[the siege]

ix. chapter nine

A bitter odour entered Larkflower's nose as her eyes fluttered open, revealing her amber orbs. The scent got even stronger until Larkflower sat up, her nostrils flaring with discomfort around the disgusting smell.

The first thing she noticed was that instead of being curled up in the warriors' den next to her mate and friends, she was lying in a mossy nest in the little crack of a boulder. She was in Harewing's den. But why?

The next thing she noticed, answering her former question, was a sharp pain that was starting to throb until it seared with agony. It was coming from her lower abdomen, right above her left flank. The pain was bearable but was still excruciating, nonetheless.

Larkflower blinked away sudden tears and she glanced down at her wound. It was a swollen, jagged scar that had two claw marks running side by side as if there were two warriors speeding after a rabbit on the moorland.

Larkflower whimpered and tucked herself back into the curled shape she was in before, thinking that if she were laid like that, it was by Harewing who knew best since he was the medicine cat.

"Don't move." A gruff voice ordered. Larkflower arched her neck, trying her best not to move her body, and saw the hunched figure of Harewing sorting herbs in the corner.

But when Larkflower turned to find Harewing, she saw other cats as well. She saw Pebbleslip, Jaysight, Heathershade, and Flickersight. They were all bundled into small nests in the den as well. Their curled bodies were all visibly breathing but they all seemed pretty injured.

At first, Larkflower couldn't see anything wrong with Pebbleslip but then, she rolled over in her sleep, exposing a thin but deep-looking cut running across her stomach. Jaysight had multiple noticeable scratches all over his body and Heathershade's tail seemed to have been torn. Her right ear was cut in two and one side was drooping. Flickersight, however, appeared to be the worst. His front paw looked as if it were completely crushed and he had a short but jagged gash on his face starting from his nose and running over his eye as if a cat had snagged their claw in his face and tore it.

A surge of guilt tore through Larkflower as if she was being attacked by the Siege. She had been Flickersight's mentor! They had grown an unbreakable bond between them from being through highs and lows together. Larkflower couldn't help but feel responsible for Flickersight's injuries. Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest and she cried out softly, laying her head on her front paws.

"Are you okay? Do you need something?" Harewing murmured, for once, sounding gentle. "I'm sorry, Larkflower. I know what you're thinking. Flickersight should get better." Then, more quietly, "The scar on his face should at least."

This didn't help. Larkflower felt terrible. Would Flickersight be crippled? He had only just become a warrior and she didn't want to see all of his hard work as an apprentice be wasted because of one battle. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping for sleep.

❦ ❦ ❦

Squirrel was okay, but Larkflower preferred the soothing taste of rabbit. Of course, she had no right to complain since the remaining warriors were too busy fighting the Siege, defending the camp, hunting, and training their apprentices. She couldn't complain if they didn't get her the right sort of prey. Four days had passed since she had woken in the medicine cat den and her injury was starting to heal itself, with the help of herbs, of course.

She was lazily grooming herself under the little sun that the sky had to offer.

There were dark clouds gathering on the horizon, creating smoky wisps that threatened rain and thunder. At least that meant that it was the start of the newleaf and that warmer weather was coming. Larkflower was trying to be as optimistic as possible about her situation but the fact that Flickersight didn't seem to be getting any better wasn't helping her broken spirit.

Snakeshine was constantly visiting her, fretting over her and worrying about her. Larkflower didn't know why, though. The clawmarks that ran down her flank were starting to turn a pale pink colour and Harewing said that they were healing fine. It didn't hurt to move anymore and Larkflower could at least walk around camp every once in a while.

Larkflower veered around a tumbling mess of kits that were play-fighting and almost gagged from the horrid scent of mousebile. She had been caring for the elders for the past few days since she really didn't see anything else that she could do other than try her best to stay useful to the Clan.

"Hurry up, will you, Larkflower?" the distinct voice of Willowstripe sounded from inside the elders' den. "I've been waiting forever to get these wretched ticks off my back."

As Larkflower stepped inside, untroubled by the elder's characteristic temper, and dropped the mouse bile on the floor. "Okay, Willowstripe."

"Good. Finally a warrior with enough sense to not talk back to me!" She scoffed.

Larkflower dabbed the mouse bile onto her grey shoulder. "Ah . . ." the ash coloured she-cat trailed off as the tick let go of her skin and fell to the floor.

"Tell us about how you got that nasty cut again, Larkflower!" one of the most playful elders, Lizardpelt, exclaimed.

"Oh, come on, furball. We're the ones that are always telling the stories. We wouldn't want someone else to get the hang of it and take over our job." Hollysmoke joked, their eyes shimmering with amusement. "No, really, though, Larkflower. Tell us the story!"

"Oh, okay." Larkflower murmured, not used to so much attention. She continued to dab away at the elders' ticks while she spoke smoothly, recalling the battle as she remembered. "Well, to start off, even though it might sound heroic and amazing, it wasn't. It was a battle, like any other."

"Trust me, little one." Doesky chuckled. "We know. We've had too many battles to count in our lifetimes." The others laughed and Larkflower tried to smile.

"Well, it started out like any hunting patrol. Me, Snakeshine, Brackenstripe, Poppylight, and Pebbleslip were hunting over our section of the woodland. I had just run after a rabbit so I was further down the hill than the others were. Pebbleslip and Snakeshine managed to run down before the cats appeared but Brackenstripe and Poppylight . . . They weren't fast enough. The Siege attacked and dragged them both down behind the hill so that we couldn't see them." Larkflower shook her head, trying to rid herself of the horrifying images that were replaying in her mind.

"We carried them back to camp and then we got more patrols to go out and fight the Siege. We fought like lions but it wasn't enough. The Siege must've knocked me unconscious because the last thing I remember was going down in a tussle of cats, all of them on top of me. I woke up and Harewing told me that Flickersight had leapt down from a giant rock and saved me from those cats that were attacking me. He broke his ankle in the fall."

The last piece of information had already spread around camp and had reached the elders, but Larkflower had mostly just murmured the last part to herself as if she were reminding herself that Flickersight was hurt and there was nothing she could do about it.

Maybe that's what it was. Larkflower hated not being able to be in control. Her apprentice had always gotten into trouble—not doing his tasks properly, eating on hunting patrols, everything that a warrior or apprentice had done at least once. But this time, it felt like Larkflower couldn't protect him. He had grown up and she couldn't do anything to stop that from happening.

Is this what being a mother feels like? Larkflower thought, anxious. If it is, I'm not sure that I want to feel like this every day of my life.

"Trust me, he's going to be okay." Doesky started to comfort Larkflower. Before she could say anything else, though, Larkflower interrupted her.
"But how could StarClan let this happen?" She wailed, falling to the hard ground.

"There, there," Willowstripe nestled down next to the fallen warrior. "It's okay. Flickersight will get better, with time. Even if he never heals, maybe that's what StarClan wanted. Maybe he has some sort of destiny that isn't to be a warrior."

Larkflower sniffled, trying to see some sort of sense in her words. Could her apprentice that she had taught for so many seasons really have some other destiny than being a loyal warrior of WindClan?

If so, what kind of destiny was calling him?