Mossdapple's Faith

Chapter 15

   Mosspaw's paws were heavy as they crunched on vibrant red and orange leaves as she walked. The forest had transformed into a golden landscape, with leaves gracefully falling from the trees to the ground. The forest floor was dappled with pools of sunlight, which offered spots of warm recluse in the midst of the chilly beginning of leaf-fall.

"Mosspaw!"

She lifted her head from the herb she was gathering, suddenly realizing that she had been dozing off, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"Why are you so tired? You sleep like a dormice every night,' Featherwhisker teased.

"Sorry," Mosspaw mumbled. "I was up with a bellyache last night." Realizing her excuse might worry her mentor, she corrected herself. "But it's fine now. Must have been a bad mouse."

Her mentor glanced at her with suspicion but said no more. What he didn't know was that Mosspaw had been visiting StarClan every night for the last half moon, and she hadn't gotten any real sleep. Every night she was awake either training or lounging in StarClan.

She had realized after the first few days that she wasn't getting any real rest when she was there, but she couldn't help returning to the peaceful realm every night. As long as she was there, she felt energized, relaxed, and excited to learn or spend time with her ancestors. But once she woke, she was still just as exhausted as the night before.

But she couldn't help it.

"You're making a mess of those stems," Featherwhisker observed. "Mosspaw, are you even awake? What's going on with you?"

She looked at her collection of marigold. Petals littered her chest and the stems were torn and chewed up. Mosspaw shook her head to clear it but nearly toppled over.

"Mosspaw!"

"Sorry!" She mustered her energy. "I'm just tired from last night. Maybe I should go back to camp." It's not like she was being useful. She started gathering up her marigold.

"Stop."

Mosspaw looked at her mentor, whose gaze was stern and serious.

"Tell me what's really going on."

Mosspaw tensed. "There's nothing going on," she insisted.

"You're always tired these days." He sighed. "I don't get it, Mosspaw. You sleep soundly all night, but you wake up exhausted and clumsy. Your pelt is a mess. You haven't made any friends other than Spottedpaw. Something is wrong."

Mosspaw was fully awake now, her heart feeling like it was beating out of her chest. The ground swayed beneath her feet.

"Are you sick? Are you in pain anywhere?" Featherwhisker pressed.

"No, it's nothing like that," Mosspaw insisted.

"Then what is it?" He stared at her. "You can trust me, Mosspaw. But I know something is wrong, and I deserve to know what it is."

Fox-dung! What do I say?

"Tell me."

Mosspaw looked at her paws. "I can't," she mumbled.

"Speak up."

She looked at her mentor. "I can't!" she mewed, almost yelling. "I just can't." She turned to go back to camp. Featherwhisker stepped in front of her.

"Why not?"

Mosspaw searched for the right words. But they didn't come.

"Whatever it is, it can stay between us. But I need to know why my apprentice is acting so sickly. Did you know that your sister came to me and asked if you were okay? How do you think that made me feel? That I couldn't answer her?"