What Do The Stars Want?

Prologue

"Beetleheart, no!  You need to eat the seeds, they'll make the pain better, they'll make you better."

"It's okay Wrenpaw, really, I'm fine."

"No you're NOT! Just look at you! You can't even stand up anymore!"

Hot tears stung Wrenpaw's eyes as she said this, because in reality, it was true.  Beetleheart wasn't able to really do anything anymore, yet her sister stubbornly persisted that she, in fact, could go out hunting and she could walk around, but when she tried to, she keeled over, often times unconscious.  For days after an attempt at any of those things, Beetleheart would cry out in agony and obvious pain, each time saying that her head and neck were either "on fire" or simply "not there".  

Beetleheart wasn't always like this, though.  She used to be a happy, beautiful, free-to-roam loner, often times taking Wrenpaw, or Wrennie as she was called back then, on adventures through the forest, where Beetleheart, who was just called Beetle back then, would show Wrennie how to find the weirdest bugs and coolest butterflies.  Often times Beetle would teach her the basics of hunting birds, and how to pluck the best-looking feathers for their mother, but now Beetle was Beetleheart, Wrennie was Wrenpaw, and Beetleheart was severely sick, and with no explanation as to why.  Now all Beetleheart could do was lie down and waste away.

"I've failed you,"  Wrenpaw whispered, hanging her head and beginning let tears fall from her eyes.  "You're sick, and I'm supposed to be able to make that better, but I can't.  ARGH WHY CAN'T I SAVE YOU, YOU'RE DYING AND I CAN'T HELP!"    Wrenpaw's yells of anguish echoed throughout the camp, and many cats heard the cry of the amber-eyed apprentice.  Yet no one entered the medicine den to comfort little Wrenpaw, instead everyone seemed to just stand still, ears perked to listen for a reply. 

 "Wrenpaw,"  Beetleheart whispered, her matching amber eyes softening with pity and regret,"None of this is your fault, it never was, and never will be.  Besides, I'm not dying, just recovering slowly, that's all."  With that statement, the black-furred she-cat moved over towards the poppy seeds, craning her head to lap them up, and instantly beginning to feel sleepy from the rather high dosage.  

Wrenpaw stood there silently, sniffling once before saying in a limp tone,"Hey Beetle, can I sleep with you, like old times?"  Beetleheart moved to the side, making space for Wrenpaw in the nest. 

"Everything's not lost, okay Wrennie?" Beetleheart whispered, her eyes slowly shutting as Wrenpaw clambered into the nest.  "Oh, also, I know you don't think you're a good medicine cat, and you're wrong.  That 'Marshclan' guy just isn't teaching you right, trust me."

"Maybe... but he could be right, we don't know if marigold is good for stomach aches or not."  Wrenpaw mumbled, glancing up at Beetleheart, only to find that she was already asleep.