Nightshade's POV

"Why have you brought her here?" Wildstar challenged with her tail and chin raised. Wolftail, Amberthroat, Foxtuft, and Thornpaw came back from patrol with a small Bengal she-cat. Her eyes were a brilliant green color, one that could be seen through the thickest mist. She seemed nothing more than a harmless kit.

Wolftail nudged the small she-cat forward. "Her name is Zinnia. She knows how to make us immune." He insisted, grabbing the attention from anyone around. Whitefeather bolted over and sized the she-cat up. He didn't say anything.

Zinnia gave the hostile leader an excited - yet clueless - look.

Is that the one from Whisperecho and Ivysplash's prophecy? I wondered. I confirmed it with a nod to myself as Wolftail explained to Wildstar that she knows the cure. "Isn't it ironic that she has the same uncommon name from the prophecy?" He pleaded. "Wildstar, the prophecy was about a cat not a flower!" Wildstar watched the small cat while he spoke. Thornpaw gazed blankly at the she-cat.

"Unless she can prove it within a quarter-moon, then she cannot stay here. She will be killed or thrown to the infected if she does not prove this," Wolftail dipped his head to his leader and nudged the small she-cat away softly. Zinnia didn't seem to care or notice Wildstar's comment.

Wolftail stopped and stood in the center of the clearing. Zinnia mimicked his movements without him noticing as he announced two more patrols to go out. "Crescentmoon, Whisperpaw, Ghostglow, go upstream to check the borders. Nightshade, Whitefeather, go downstream to check the borders and maybe the fence," He instructed.

Whitefeather's ear twitched and, without waiting, he headed off. Oh sweet SoulClan, I thought as I began to pad off. Reluctantly, I headed out beside Whitefeather. I wanted to learn more about the quiet and bubbly she-cat but I knew the patrols had to be done. I felt tense, uneasy, and timid as we traveled away silently. The wind blew behind us harshly, whipping our fur the wrong way. Whitefeather didn't talk to me nor look at me. What do I say? He hates me... Will he hurt me if I defend myself? Did Ivysplash tell him something untrue while giving him the prophecy? I wondered, rambling on in my head. It was hard to keep quiet for so long.

Ivysplash wouldn't lie like that. She would have defended me, I am sure. What do I say, what do I say?

As I thought about something to say, Whitefeather just kept to himself, in his own little world. The birds chirped and cooed in the tree tops, a squirrel chattered away in alarm as we padded by. The sky was dark, the sun was going down, and the air was chilly and unwelcoming. My fur stood on end as I prepared myself to bring up a conversation.

"So," I murmured. Whitefeather's muscles rippled on his back. I gulped but continued, "you know I tried everything I could to save Ivysplash, right?"

Whitefeather halted and so did I. I could feel his rage radiating from his body. He lashed his fluffy tail. I swallowed again and began to back away in fear. Whitefeather slowly glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were filled with hatred, anger, and pure pain. "Obviously not," He snapped, lunging for me.

I bolted to the side just in time and dashed out of our territory. What am I doing? I barely know our territory, let alone outside of it! I thought as I dashed through the darkening forest. I looked over my shoulder with wide eyes just as the huge white tom leaped for me with his claws extended and his jaws wide open.

Yowling in terror and distress, he landed on me and we plunged down the hill. Why don't you love me like you used to? I wanted to ask. As apprentices, Whitefeather and I had been great friends, but nothing stood in his way with his sister. The both of us had fallen in love and promised to have beautiful kits... But as we grew up, he became cold... Colder than the hardest ice. With the death of his sister, he found just the right reason to hate me.

I tried to kick him off but he was too strong. I hissed at him and clawed back at him. In return, Whitefeather slashed at my throat and my eyes while I aimed for his muzzle. I kicked at his stomach until my hind legs went weak. As he smashed me harder in the face, I lost all my strength and let him hit me.

The world around me grew dark as blood from my neck and my face bled like a waterfall. My eyes were coated with blood so I blinked over and over, but it didn't get rid of it. My neck and face stung unbelievably bad. Whitefeather stopped just as I blacked out.

***

Blinking open my eyes, I realized it was now dark outside. It was cold and scary out. I could barely see anything. I didn't move because I was in so much pain in my neck, face, and lower back. I knew what he had done while I was asleep, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.

Something was dragging me by the scruff, but I didn't know what. Moaning, I tried to squirm out of its grip, but with so much blood loss, I passed out again.

***

I woke again to a lot of moaning and thumping. I glanced around. My vision was blurry and when I lifted my head, my eyes went to the back of my head. My head hit the muddy ground with a splash. I could feel the warm liquid from my neck ooze out from the deep wound again. I must have reopened it.

Gaining the strength, I turned my head to the left to see a white figure padding away. "Don't leave me..." I pleaded, realizing it was Whitefeather. I whined in pain and began to pant. I grew even more lightheaded when I tried to move. The sound of the thumping behind me becoming more desperate made me jolt slightly. The sounds seemed to be far off. I looked behind me towards the forest. He was going to leave me by the fence for someone else to find.

Not thinking, I yowled to him, "Whitefeather! No, come back!" He wasn't even moving anymore. He was watching the fence sway violently over his shoulder. The banging made the fence creak and sway. The boards began to pull apart.

"Now look what you've done!" Whitefeather bellowed, running off into the night.

"No! Whitefeather, you can't leave me!" I screeched as the fence caved in. I tried to stand, but when I did, I fell back down. "Whitefeather..." I breathed, stumbling after him slowly.

My neck and face stung greatly, my head pounded, and I grew cold as if I had a fever. I looked behind me as something came over the fence with a loud groan. A pool of blood was laying where I once lay. So much blood...

More and more infected Twolegs, dogs, and cats hurried over to me. Their torn skin and gashes and their bulging white eyes frightened me. I wasn't even able to let out a scream.

As the blood dripped from my wounds, I fell to the ground again. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as the infected Twolegs, dogs, and cats tore at my small, innocent body. Whitefeather didn't come to my rescue like I had hoped.

"One day we'll have a litter of kits!" I squeaked. The moon hung in the sky as far as it would go. Stars twinkled above, reminding us that SoulClan was watching. We sat by the churning stream while everyone in StreamClan slept peacefully. Whitepaw glanced at me briefly with a small smile. His eyes glowed with excitement. He looked down and shuffled his paws. "When would that day come?" Whitepaw murmured, scooting over closer to me. Whitepaw had to look down at me because I was two moons younger than him.

I tilted my head toward him. "I don't know," I meowed. He gave me a small smile again. I could feel his awkwardness as he stared into my eyes.

"We'll name them Snowkit, Blizzardkit, or Thistlekit, right?" I asked when he didn't reply to my comment. "Something like that," Whitepaw purred, nuzzling my cheek. "If you or any of my kits are in danger, I promise on my sisters life that I will protect you with all the might I have." He vowed quietly. I blinked up at him hopefully.

As my memory and my life faded away, I realized that promise had been broken the moment his heart had.