Super Edition - Lightstar's Wrath

Chapter 18

It's been a moon since Russetheart left. When Lightclaw returned to camp, he said they ran into a huge fox. He claimed they managed to drive it out, but the fox killed Russetheart and ran off with her body. He didn't need to fake his grief, it was as real as could be.

Snowfeather leaned against Lightclaw as they made their way to the medicine den. Snowfeather had woken up with terrible nausea. As they approached, Stormshrew and Owlpaw came into earshot. "Good, now which one is this one?" Stormshrew quizzed.

"Uh, that one's, um, goldenrod?" Owlpaw responded.

"Not quite. This one is marigold. Do you remember which-" Stormshrew's sentence stopped when he noticed the two cats entering the den. "Oh, hello. Need something?"

"Yeah, Snowfeather is really nauseous this morning," Lightclaw explained, casting a sympathetic glance at his queasy mate. 

"Alright, Owlpaw, lay her down on one of the moss nests," Stormshrew mewed at his apprentice. Owlpaw nodded, guiding the she-cat to a nest. She lied down with a plop and a groan. Stormshrew snatched a hay pouch and brought it to Snowfeather in case she vomited. "Now, Owlpaw, what herb do we use for a stomachache?"

The apprentice paused, seemingly to think. He seemed to grow nervous as his mentor gazed intensely at him. "Uh, um-," Owlpaw's ears folded back. "Marigold berries! No, uh," Embarrassment washed over the tom, his eyes trailing to the ground.

"Marigold berries?" Stormshrew's face crunched in confusion. "It's juniper berries," The grey and brown tom corrected before trotting into the herb storage. Owlpaw kept his soft gaze on the ground beneath him, lightly sighing.

"Hey, you're still learning. Give it some time," Lightclaw tried to encourage the young apprentice.

"But I can never remember anything right! I can barely tell the difference between herbs!" Owlpaw's distraught amber gaze turned toward the warrior. "I want to be a medicine cat so badly, but I'm terrible at it," His ears folded back.

"Being a medicine cat sounds awfully difficult," Lightclaw added. "But Stormshrew wouldn't give up on you,"

The conversation was set aside when Stormshrew trotted back in with a bundle of juniper berries. "Did you eat any prey that looked bad? Did it have a funny smell or sour taste?" The grey and brown om questioned Snowfeather as she lapped up the berries.

"No," She gulped down the berries in her jaws. She managed to keep everything down with another hard swallow.

"Did you come into contact with any unfamiliar plants?" Stormshrew continued. Snowfeather merely shook her head before vomiting into the hay pouch. The tom gently put the rim of his mouth on her ear tip. "No fever," He muttered. "Roll on your side, please. I wanna check your stomach."

"Alright," Snowfeather complied, exposing her stomach to the medicine cat.

"Owlpaw, come here," The tom beckoned his apprentice. The brown spotted tom padded forward, confidence still lacking. "Gently press your paw there and feel for any lumps or sores," He instructed. The apprentice nervously placed a paw on the molly's stomach and pressed around for anything. 

"I think I feel something right here," Owlpaw turned to his mentor, keeping his paw on the spot he was referring to. Owlpaw stepped away to allow Stormshrew to check. His paw pressed into Snowfeather's belly as he put an ear to it. He then reeled up, his eyes wide.

Stormshrew took a glance at Lightclaw before addressing Snowfeather. "Snowfeather, you're expecting kits," He mewed. Snowfeather nearly shot up out of her nest. Her face of shock quickly turned into a large smile, and Lightclaw couldn't help but return the emotion. 

"We're gonna be parents!" She beamed.

"We're really gonna be parents!" Ligtclaw mirrored her joy. Though the moment was cut short when Snowfeather leaned into the hay pouch to vomit again. She looked up with a queasy smile.

"Really? Congrats!" Fuzzyleaf called from outside the den. Though she staged it as if she was just walking by, it was clear she was listening to it the whole time. The black molly trotted into the den and put a friendly tail tip on Snowfeather's back. "I got plenty of advice for you! Wanna hear some?"

"Sure, that would be helpful," Lightclaw nodded.

"Okay, when you first have them, they're going to sleep a lot. But make sure someone is warming them at all times," Fuzzyleaf started. "At one moon is when trouble starts," She jokingly mewed. "It's also a good time for weaning. With my first litter, I weaned them a little late, which made switching to prey harder."

"What was I like as a kit?" Owlpaw shyly chimed in.

"When I first had you, you were very noisy," Fuzzyleaf giggled. "You'd mew all day, even in the middle of the night. Some nights, your father and I swapped nests so I could sleep. But at a moon old, you quieted down, and Rainpaw became the loud one."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet our kits!" Snowflower beamed. "How many are we having?" She turned back to Stormshrew.

"It's too early to tell," He replied. "In about a moon, I might be able to give you a rough estimate, but there's no way to know the exact number. But for now, you should be able to carry out your warrior duties. Obviously, stay out of skirmishes and don't overwork yourself. Now, I'll grab some feverfew and ragweed. Just rest for the rest of the morning, you should feel better by sun-high. But you're welcome to rest in here."

"Lightclaw! The patrol is waiting for you!" Lakebranch called from outside.

"Ack, I completely forgot about the patrol! I'll be sure to catch you something nice and juicy," Lightclaw planted a lick on his mate's forehead. "Sweet dreams, my love."

Lightclaw trotted out of the den, earning a stern glare from Alderstrike, the patrol leader. Whitecrash and Flowermask awaited nearby. "We could've been finished by now," Alderstrike snorted. "C'mon," She flicked her tail and the patrol was off.

Lightclaw's mind was busy focusing on his future kits. He had caught a juicy grouse, with Snowfeather on his mind. As he buried his catch, his eyes drifted to the rest of the patrol. Alderstrike already had a lark and was eyeing a hare. Flowermask had also gazed at the hare, giving a nod to Alderstrike. The senior warrior leaped out at the hare, sending it toward Flowermask. The younger molly aimed to swipe at it, but it did a quick turn, running toward the border.

"Whitecrash! Catch it!" Flowermask called, but the tom was just sitting by the border, gazing beyond the moor. With a sigh, he turned around to face them, but the hare had already bounded away.

"Whitecrash!" Alderstrike let out a frustrated hiss. 

"Sorry, sorry," Whitecrash huffed, returning his stare back to the horizon in front of him. "I was just... thinking,"

"About what?" Lightclaw asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Thornmuzzle..." Whitecrash's ears folded back at the mention of his littermate. "What's he doing now? Is he happy? Is he even still alive?" The last question made Whitecrash's usually calm voice crack. 

The patrol was silent for a little while, though it felt like moons dragged on. Finally, Alderstrike spoke up. "He chose to leave his clan, what he does with the rest of his life doesn't concern us anymore. I know he was your littermate, but he chose to leave." The reddish-brown molly released a sigh of her own. "There's no point in wondering, it won't make him come back." Alderstrike snatched her lark and began her way back to camp. The rest of the patrol soon followed.

Lightclaw's mind hung onto those words. As much as he cared for Thornmuzzle before, he didn't quite miss him too much. Time had eased that wound. What really hurt him was Russetheart. Though ruminating on her wouldn't make her come back, he couldn't help but regret the lack of time he spent with her. All the times he didn't share fresh-kill with her or didn't share tongues at sundown made his heart break more. Knowing that it was all gone so soon, and their negative final moments, it all hurt too much to think about.