WITHERING HERBS || A Warriors Fanfiction

A sickness - like a mere case of the chills or a minor whitecough in a patient - is often something a medicine cat can easily fix, with some leafy catmint or perhaps a pawful of feverfew. It is vanquished effortlessly, and the illness is gone. It does not come back unless someone receives it again.

But when the Clans have contracted a terrible sickness, StarClan has not answered for moons, and they are losing numbers quickly, nobody knows what to do. The medicine cats have done all they can for their Clanmates, however, nothing has worked. No longer outside the elder's den lay a lazy, gray-muzzled cat. The nursery, ever so faintly smelling of milk, only contains memories of what used to happen in the usually cheery den. The warrior's den only have three or four inhabitants, each of which thinks grimly of the day that the sickness could come upon them. The apprentice's den, in some Clans, has one cat who comes to sleep in it each night, cold and alone. Others are empty, filled with grief for lost futures.

Leaf-fall has tumbled upon the Clans. Leaf-bare approaches, peeking over the treetops some mornings. This awful illness has lasted since Green-leaf and, still, with the medicine cats searching every day and the warrior's eyes peeled for it, a cure has not been found. However, each Clan has a reason for StarClan not answering them, and they mostly stick to it. Withering herbs, Clanmates, may wilt until they are nothing but a pile of dust, blown away by wind.

{ Copying of any sort is NOT PERMITTED. }
{ The cover is made by the lovely @Talfli - go give her a follow & some votes. }
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