Pooling Blood (Shadows of Revenge Book 3)

Chapter 2

Cinderflame lounged gracefully outside the entrance of the medicine den, savoring the remnants of a crow he shared with his sister, Curlywhisker. In the backdrop of the camp, life continued its steady rhythm, but for Curlywhisker, a palpable tension lingered. While she now diligently performed her warrior duties, a part of her heart insisted on staying close to the medicine den, a silent vigil for Spottedstrike's awakening.

Spottedstrike, the once-vibrant warrior, had been unconscious for nearly two moons. Featherleaf, the dedicated medicine cat, had assumed the role of caretaker, meticulously attending to her needs. His days were a blur of monitoring, mincing prey, and administering life-sustaining droplets of water to the comatose feline. The rest of the clan, wearied by the passage of time, began to harbor doubts about Spottedstrike's chances of ever regaining consciousness. Yet, Curlywhisker clung fervently to hope.

Observing Curlywhisker's stolen glances toward the medicine den, Cinderflame offered a comforting gesture, placing his golden tail gently on his sister's back. "She'll wake up one day," he reassured, his voice a soothing balm.

A mixture of longing and sorrow echoed in Curlywhisker's sigh. "I miss her, okay? I haven't heard her purr in moons. I haven't looked into her beautiful eyes in moons! I haven't heard her laugh, or seen her smile, or—" She paused, fighting back tears. "I just miss my mate, okay?"

Overhearing the conversation, Featherleaf, with a reassuring smile, emerged from the medicine den. "If it makes you feel better, Spottedstrike's condition has been slowly improving. Her breathing is steadier, and she requires fewer herbs. I've even experimented with new herb mixes, and so far, she's responding positively."

The glimmer of hope sparked in Curlywhisker's eyes. "Can I see her?" she eagerly inquired, rushing past Featherleaf into the dimly lit den.

Spottedstrike lay still, her breaths no longer as feeble as before. Curlywhisker wasted no time in settling beside her, the emotional weight lifting, if only for a moment. Cinderflame and Featherleaf followed, empathizing with the tender scene before them. "Please, by the Divinity, wake up," Curlywhisker whispered, leaning against her mate. 

The air hung heavy with anticipation until Spottedstrike's eyes fluttered open, her voice a faint murmur. "Curly...whi...sker."

A surge of emotion overwhelmed Curlywhisker, tears welling up in her eyes. "Spottedstrike! You're awake! Thank the Divi- er, StarClan. Thank StarClan you're okay," The dark golden molly corrected herself. She had mentioned the Divinity, Ivyear's faith, a few times now. Had she started to believe in that instead of StarClan?

"Bri... bright..." Spottedstrike weakly mewed.

"Is it too bright in here, love? Here," Curlywhisker used her fuzzy tail to shield Spottedstrike's eyes from the seeping sunlight bleeding into the stone den. Spottedstrike gave a purr of thanks to her mate.

"Spottedstrike!" Stonefire yelped, rushing into the den. Whitetip was close behind. "Featherleaf just told us the news. Oh, my daughter's up!" Stonefire purred, curling near his daughter.

"We were so worried" Whitetip added, shedding tears of her own. "My poor baby has been stuck in here, but now you're awake!"

"She's not quite out yet," Featherleaf trotted back into the den.  "She's been out for two moons, she'll need to get used to walking and eating on her own again," He explained.

The den seemed to shrink as the joyous commotion filled the air. Stonefire and Whitetip, overcome with relief, surrounded their daughter, their love palpable. Spottedstrike's weak gaze wandered around the familiar faces, registering the gravity of her situation.

Spottedstrike's voice, still fragile, broke through the emotional atmosphere. "I thought... I thought I'd never wake up. The last thing I remember is the battle with IcyClan," she murmured, her memory struggling to piece together the events leading to her incapacitation.

"Quite a lot has happened," Curlywhisker mewed, curling her tail around her mate. "Now we're at war with IcyClan, I think we're winning but I'm not sure. Deerclaw- oh yeah, Deerpaw became a warrior now, Deerclaw- she's a spy in IcyClan. And Flickerpelt had her kits, but Mistwing died a few days ago. There was this huge battle at the Three Stones! I was held captive in IcyClan with Flightwing for a little while, but I managed to escape. Flightwing almost escaped, but I'm sure he'll be able to get out soon."

"Slow down," Spottedstrike gave a small smile.

"Sorry, I just got excited," Curlywhisker mewed back, leaning her head on her mate.

"I'm surpri...surprised I'm not de..ead," The spotted warrior raspily added.

Cinderflame, standing beside his sister, interjected, "Featherleaf has been taking great care of you. You're in good paws now."

The mention of Featherleaf prompted Spottedstrike to look toward the medicine cat with gratitude. "Thank you, Featherleaf. I owe you my life," she rasped, a glimmer of her former strength shining in her eyes.

Featherleaf, though usually composed, couldn't hide the relief in his expression. "It's my duty, Spottedstrike. I'm just glad to see you awake."

As the initial wave of excitement settled, Featherleaf took the opportunity to speak. "It might be best to quiet down. She's been through a lot, and her ears need time to recover," Featherleaf advised, his experienced eyes assessing Spottedstrike's condition.

Curlywhisker as well as Whitetip and Stonefire remained close, unwilling to let Spottedstrike out of their sights. Cinderflame lingered as well, offering silent support. The den, once a haven of despair, now echoed with a sense of hope and renewal.

Outside the den, the rest of the clan, having caught wind of the news, gathered around, their expressions a mix of curiosity and joy. The word spread like wildfire through the camp, and the atmosphere transformed into a celebration of Spottedstrike's miraculous return.

As the night descended, casting an ethereal glow upon the camp, Cinderflame couldn't help but feel the warmth within his chest. Perhaps, he mused, ValleyClan was not teetering on the precipice of despair after all. In the face of adversity, the clan had shown resilience, unity, and an unwavering determination to navigate the challenges that lay ahead. The night held the promise of a brighter tomorrow, and Cinderflame couldn't help but be hopeful for the future of ValleyClan.