why?

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Swiftfoot padded through the trees, searching for herbs. "Perfect!" He mewed, leaning down to pick a couple stems of coltsfoot. Hopefully this helps Mossheart. The elderly medicine cat was getting weaker every day. The black and white tom walked back to camp, passing a clump of comfrey on the way back.

I must remember to gather that later. Swiftfoot thought, pushing through the thorn tunnel. Fernpaw and Cedarpaw were demonstrating battle moves to Cherryfeather's kits as Frogkit and Shellkit watched on from inside the nursery with wide eyes. He swerved around them and headed into the medicine den, dropping the stalks of coltsfoot by Mossheart's paws. "This will help, don't worry!" Swiftfoot mewed as encouragingly as he could. "Don't waste herbs on me." Mossheart purred with amusement. "I'm joining StarClan soon. As talented as you are, there's nothing you can do to stop it." The black and white medicine cat sighed, knowing she was right. "At least eat this one. It will ease your journey." Mossheart nodded and reluctantly ate the stalk. Swiftfoot purred.
"Goodnight, Mossheart." The old medicine cat nodded and curled up in her mossy nest, resting her tail on her muzzle, and after a brief hesitation, Swiftfoot did too. His dreams were confusing, but two faces kept appearing over and over again, their jaws open in a silent cry for help. Fernpelt and Raggedear, the two cats who had died when ThunderClan attacked their camp. But why? Swiftfoot thought, sitting up in his nest. He started to wash the scraps of bracken and moss out of his black and white pelt, thinking.

A/N
Shortest chapter so far! Not even a chapter, just a little filler one. 

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