River Clan 18 (18/20!)

Rustling reeds alerted Brackentail. Rosepaw glanced over to the worried cat.

“It’s ok, Brackentail, she will turn up soon!” Rosepaw mewed.

“That’s what I’m worried about. She said she was going hunting!” Brackentail lashed her tail out and chided herself for letting Fuzzypelt go. As she turned away to talk to Rosepaw about the increasing troubles of Green Cough, a white and dark grey cat burst out of the underbrush.

“Fuzzypelt!” Brackentail’s eyes sparkled. She was wrong.

But there was something wrong.

“Fuzzypelt?” Rosepaw mewed, concerned at Fuzzypelt’s rugged appearence.

Fuzzypelt’s fur was matted with clots of dry mud and sore wounds.

“I’m ok. But soon, River Clan will not be.” Fuzzypelt replied dully.

Fuzzypelt collapsed. Leaffrost and Rosepaw rushed over and picked her up, carrying her to the medicine cat’s den. Brackentail was worried. Fuzzypelt had said that River Clan would not be safe. From what?

“Take it easy, Fuzzypelt.” Rosepaw whispered.

“Stone and Flower, they told me!” Fuzzypelt mewed deleriously.

She clawed the air in pain as Rosepaw smothered her wounds in herbs.

“Youch!” Fuzzypelt yowled, eyes brightened with recongnization. Her sight was blurred. She tried to claw the strange feeling out of her eyes. Rosepaw raised a claw to stop her. Fuzzypelt rolled her eyes and moaned about her wound. Her head throbbed with the pain of the branch that had hit her in the head when she fell into the swamp. Fuzzypelt shivered at the disgusting thought of the slimy stuff surrounding her. Suddenly she remembered the message she had to deliver.

“I need to speak to the clan, Rosepaw! Bring Skystar here now!”

She slowly lowered herself to the ground, nursing her throbbing wounds.

“Skystar!” Rosepaw mewed urgently. “Fuzzypelt needs to speak with you!”

Skystar rose and quickly hustled over to Leaffrost’s den. She sat down and licked her paw. Fuzzypelt winced as she stood up, only to be sat down again by eagle-eye Leaffrost.

“River Clan is in danger. A dark danger. You know how many times I talked about the attackers of Beestripe and Sharpclaw?” Fuzzypelt mewed.

Skystar nodded. Indeed, Fuzzypelt had talked many times about them.

“I went to look for them!” Fuzzypelt mewed, pawing away the pile of herbs Rosepaw was offering. “I slipped into the swamp. Two outcasts of Luna’s clan rescued me. Luna’s clan is a group of scraggly, yet strong and ruthless cats who have been secretly gathering on the edge of our territory. Before leaving me to return, the two warned me that the leader, Luna, was planning to attack and wipe out the cats-who-live-by-the-river. Starting tomorrow, their attack is planned to surprise us.” Fuzzypelt ended her speech with a groan.

“And now we will be ready,” Brackentail mewed calmly. “Extra protection on the nursery, and every cat should not go hunting alone.”

Skystar’s fur felt the danger. She padded out of the medicine cat’s den, and shivered. Oh, of all things, this danger was by far the greatest leafbare had brought. She eyed a leaf growing on one of the trees. It was frosted over with sparkling, inviting snow. Skystar glanced up to the sky. Clouds shrouded the camp. It was begining to snow.