Very long, but well worth reading to the end...

—

Sharp coughing broke through the night air. The grim sound was hoarse and brittle, shattering the silence which had lapsed over the den.

Nettlepaw's light blue eyes shot open at the familiar, dreadful noise. Foggy sleep pawed at her flanks, urging her to shift back in her warm nest and be lulled to a dream once more, but she pulled away from the comfort. Blinking her wide eyes to adjust to the pitch-black pine-woven den, she slowly rose to her black paws, giving a shake of her brown pelt.

The young apprentice perked her large ears to hear the faint yet recognizable snore of her mentor, snapping her attention to the limp form of the dull gray she-cat sprawled out in the nest beside her. Honeyfrost's flanks rose and fell steadily, the slivers of soft moonlight shafting into cracks in the den roof outlining the features of her mangled, unkempt fur. Nettlepaw took a tentative step toward her mentor, fur prickling with hesitation. I shouldn't wake her; this is probably nothing. Besides, last time she got really angry.

Nettlepaw turned, making her way beyond their nests huddled in the corner and their neat bundles of frost-bitten herbs. She blinked her large eyes several times, pawsteps light and gentle, uncertain of the path ahead of her in the pure darkness of the chill night.

Another bout of coughing intercepted the silence, the loud, rattling noise harsh in her ears. Her eyes met with the shaking outline of a frail feline as she approached the shallow dip towards the far end of the den where ill cats were clustered together. Her large ears slowly pressed against the side of her head to suppress the rough sound echoing through the night as it grew increasingly violent.

Nettlepaw tilted her head, trying to catch the cat's pelt in a beam of milky white light, making out a distinctly thin, black she-cat--Lizardshine. Her flanks were plastered against her ribs as she heaved for a breath, each wheeze between raspy coughs causing a shake in her chest.

Nettlepaw lowered her head, pressing her nose against Lizardshine's forehead, feeling the unusual warmth that had accumulated her body for many days, weakening her. "Still a fever", she murmured under her breath, turning away just as the black warrior's frame began to tremble with yet another violent series of coughs.

Nettlepaw crushed the rousing feeling of dread, nosing her way toward the herb storage. The stench of illness was overcome by a new, fresh and crisp scent of herbs that filled her nostrils, enticing her towards the collection. Lizardshine's croaky, grating coughs grew stronger and worse with each moment that the apprentice wasted. Nettlepaw closed her eyes, letting her nose guide her toward the alluring aroma of catmint, panic blossoming along her body as the racking sounds of coughs exploded in the air. Catmint, catmint, catmint... No, I just had some for Adderwhisper--where has it gone? It was... It was right here!

Terror flooded through Nettlepaw as she began to run her paws along the herb piles for the familiar leafy texture, tossing aside her neatly stacked flowers and plants as anxiety burned. Each raspy cough rung in the apprentice's ears, her breathing becoming rapid and neck fur rising as fear gripped her body.

Her paws met with the familiar ripples of a stalk of lavender, the powerful scent soothing her erupting panic. Forget it. If I can't tackle the greencough, I'll have to at least stop her fever. With brisk movements the apprentice snatched the lavender, her teeth crunching down hard on the intoxicating plant. She crossed the distance toward Lizardshine, bending toward her fragile body and pushing the herb near the black she-cat's mouth.

"Here, try to eat this," the apprentice murmured with a soothing voice, her tone wavering with the apprehension that she attempted to mask with calmness. "It'll help your fever. I-I can get you some honey for your cough." She nudged the purple-flowered plant toward the black cat's mouth, large ears perked for a response, yet she was met with silence.

Her gaze grew wide with horror. "L-Lizardshine?" She whispered, her voice cracking. With slow, hesitant movements, Nettlepaw crept closer to press her ear against Lizardshine's chest, hearing the most unsettling sound she'd ever have to encounter--silence.

__________

Nettlepaw shivered as the cold wrapped around her small body, tiny flakes dancing in wisps of air that trailed along her brown pelt, chilling her to the bone. She shifted her body in the thin blanket of snow that encased ShadowClan's camp, caking the pine trees in a glittering white layer. The apprentice kept her eyes trained to her black paws as she picked at the ground beneath her, her tail curled tight against her body. Several sets of paws crunched along the snow as the warriors carried out Lizardshine's frail, limp body.

She couldn't lift her gaze to watch Lizardshine's final moment in camp. The apprentice fought back the tears that threatened to spring from her somber, glistening blue eyes as she was overcome by deep remorse. If I had only been a second faster... I could've... I could've saved her, I could've done something...

"Nettlepaw," called a gruff voice from behind the brown apprentice, jolting her from her thoughts. She let out a shaky breath that she wasn't aware she was holding in, turning her head over her shoulder to meet her mentor's sharp yellow eyes. "Come inside. You'll catch a cold, and I need you right now."

Nettlepaw dipped her head, turning away as the sound of pawsteps began to fade from camp. She couldn't pity herself forever; she had a promise to fulfill as a training medicine cat, even if she couldn't always be there for her clanmates. Rising unsteadily to her paws, she turned toward the medicine cat's den, ignoring a small sting in her pads from the bitter leaf-fall weather.

Raising her gaze, she watched Honeyfrost tend to the disorganized storage where bundled herbs were still scattered about from two nights ago as a result of Nettlepaw's panic to find the catmint. The thought sent a strike of unease through her, but she brushed it off with a gentle twitch of her whiskers. As her mother had always said, it was important to live in the present, not the past; she had already sat vigil for the former ShadowClan warrior, and she needed to come to terms with the reality of the situation. After all, she was just recovering from Thistlestripe's death a quarter-moon ago--he'd been the first to succumb to the intense disease that gripped the clan as leaf-fall began to settle, and after insisting that he was healthy, the gray mackerel-tabby had rapidly collapsed from fierce coughing that transcended into a deep fever. The trend seemed to explode in the clan, corrupting the lives of several once-healthy and thriving warriors.

Her eyes glazed over the delicate, weary forms of Ferretheart, Adderwhisper, Ravenflight, and the most recently affected, Pinepaw. The four felines were huddled close in their nests, and Nettlepaw couldn't help but notice Lizardshine's absence in the den.

"One gruesome way to look at it is that at least we won't have to waste more herbs," Honeyfrost's raspy, cold voice muttered from behind Nettlepaw, giving her a small fright as she was distracted in her thoughts once more. The apprentice turned her attention to the large, gray-furred she-cat. Waste...? Nettlepaw couldn't help but narrow her gaze at the medicine cat's careless selection of words, a flicker of anger bursting inside her. What's that supposed to mean, waste? No herbs put to use on a cat is a waste, regardless of the outcome.

"Take these to them," she continued, not turning to face Nettlepaw as she flicked a small bundle of shredded petals with her tail toward the apprentice. Nettlepaw tilted her head at the unfamiliar, delicate purple petals, and as she examined them closer, she picked out small, darker spots.

"What is this?" Nettlepaw queried, bending to scoop them in her mouth.

Honeyfrost swiftly turned to her, pushing her apprentice away from the shredded flower petals with a harsh shove of her leg. "Don't touch them with your mouth. You absolutely cannot carry them like that," she snapped, her voice brittle.

Nettlepaw was taken aback by the she-cat's sudden harsh tone, ears flattening defensively. "Why not? What are they?"

"You ask too many questions," Honeyfrost muttered, irritation lacing her voice as she stared at her apprentice with a stern expression. "It's just... lavender. The cold weather has damaged the appearance, but that doesn't change the effectiveness. I don't want you to pick it up because I'm trying to keep our herbs as sanitary as possible."
Her mentor was often intolerant of Nettlepaw. She hardly ever pleased Honeyfrost, and when she did, it was only if she surprised the old she-cat with fresh-kill in the morning or successfully cleaned her mangled pelt from ticks.

"Well, how can I--"

"I don't know, figure it out, Nettlepaw," Honeyfrost growled bitterly as she broke into the brown she-cat's hesitant sentence. "You're the one with four paws."

Nettlepaw couldn't help but briefly glance at Honeyfrost's front left leg, or at least, what should have been there. The gray cat's disease-bitten leg left it with a mere lump where there should've been a limb. Often the medicine cat padded along with a limp, her body slumped forward at the lack of support. Honeyfrost never spoke a word about it. She's probably sensitive.

Silently, Nettlepaw cupped the herbs into her paw, holding it out at an awkward angle as she stumbled toward the ill. Gently, she let the shredded petals slide from her black paw before distributing it to each cat, nudging them awake. As she watched the four felines weakly stretch their necks to lap up a few small pieces of the purple and spotted petals, the apprentice let out a deep, weary sigh. StarClan, please let these cats recover well. They are strong, and I trust them in your paws.

__________

Crunch, crunch. Crunch, crunch.

The snow fell delicately beneath Nettlepaw's soft pawsteps. The quiet, subtle sound was washed away by the light wind that gave a frangible shake of the bare branches overhead. The apprentice tread through the forest, the strong stench of ThunderClan's territory overwhelming her senses.

She fluffed up her brown fur against the bitter cold that bit at her skin as she made her way along the shoreline of the lake, though kept herself distanced enough to be under the protection of the trees. The snow glistened on the forest floor as beams of bright moonlight illuminated the pristine, glistering white flakes cluttered over frostbitten stems of grass. The stars gleamed brightly in the dark night sky as the half-moon climbed farther from the horizon.

It had been less than a quarter-moon since Lizardshine's death, and Pinepaw had also fallen to the fatal and quickly-spreading disease. The dark-brown apprentice's health worsened incredibly quickly, and without the strength of a fully-grown warrior, his life was torn from him swiftly. Now, only Ferretheart, Adderwhisper, and Ravenflight remained in the medicine cat's den, and while they were constantly given herbs, food, and water, they were only displaying signs of weakening health.

I just don't understand... Nettlepaw pondered as she continued along the edge of the treeline, growing closer to the moonpool with each pawstep. We've been giving them catmint and that lavender... They're growing too weak to eat, just like the ones who died. It always starts out with mild coughs and yet it worses so quickly, no matter how much we treat it. Perhaps the other cats have experienced a similar disease... Has greencough rendered catmint useless; does it need a new herb to cure it? Oh, why didn't I talk to Honeyfrost about this? Well... She would've gotten angry at me anyway.

Her thoughts faded to the back of her mind as a familiar scent broke into the air. Amberwing. The tom's WindClan-driven smell began to grow stronger as Nettlepaw approached the path toward the moonpool, and despite the lingering concern of a hostile clan, the desire to communicate with a cat outside of the damaged, wounded ShadowClan that had begun to reek with the stench of death and illness drove her toward the WindClan tom.

As she emerged from behind a large oak, she spotted the ginger-tabby tom relaxed on his haunches, fluffy tail curled around him. "Hey!" Nettlepaw called out, dashing forward, her paws kicking up clumps of snow. Amberwing glanced up toward the she-cat, his surprised expression replaced with that of a familiar, warm smile.

"Hello, Nettlepaw, it's nice to see you. It seems as if it's been quite a while since the last Gathering, no?" Amberwing shook out his thick fur--which Nettlepaw glanced at enviously--before glancing over the medicine cat apprentice's shoulder. "Are you traveling alone tonight?"

Nettlepaw nodded her head. "Yes, we've had... We've had bad disease in ShadowClan and we've lost three cats because of it. One of our warriors, Ferretheart, has gotten severely sick, so Honeyfrost doesn't want to leave him."

"And you've used the standard herbs?"

"Well, we started with catmint to treat what seemed like whitecough, but when they showed symptoms of fevers, Honeyfrost gave them lavender. We've run out of honey so we're supplementing with heather nectar for cats who had bad coughs."

"Have you tried feverfew?" Amberwing suggested, puffing out his fur as a gust of wind wove through the tree branches and brushed against the two felines. "It grows everywhere around the lake. And a few moons ago, ThunderClan had a minor cough outbreak, according to Brindlespark. He said he cured it through tansy. You should ask him if he has any to spare."

Nettlepaw dipped her head, appreciation glittering in her soft gaze. "That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Amberwing." She lifted her head, jaws parting to taste the air. Traces of RiverClan or ThunderClan cats had yet to emerge.

"I have a feeling that the others might be waiting further along the bank." The ginger medicine cat rose to his large paws, angling his head towards to dip toward the ground beyond them, where the earth fell to a bank and a gushing stream gurgled past. "We should look. Besides, it's reaching moonhigh."

Nettlepaw nodded silently, feeling a cold gust of wind ruffle her brown fur as she rose. Shivers dancing along her spine, the apprentice followed Amberwing as he lumbered upstream. "I just don't get it," she blurted suddenly. "All these cats are suddenly just dying. We've lost two warriors and an apprentice in the span of a quarter-moon. But how?"

The apprentice paused, allowing her thoughts to simmer and collect, the silence growing between them. She half-expected the wiser medicine cat to reply, but his only response was the crunching of paws against snow. "We've used up all of our catmint, and time and time again I've had to restock with crippling and frost-bitten leaves. I just don't understand how all these cats are hurting from this disease that has been treated the same for seasons, as Honeyfrost told me. How come suddenly our herbs won't work? Or no other clans are experiencing this? StarClan never even warned us, at the very least!" Her words were edged with a growing, bursting anger. How come they had to suffer from this dumb greencough and StarClan didn't even bother to look their way?

Amberwing was quiet, whiskers twitching. After a long, painful moment, he spoke: "I don't think StarClan can control everything that happens. Each cat's death is fate; there's no avoiding it."

Nettlepaw was irritated at his response. Why can't he just say something I want to hear? she grumbled inwardly, tail whisking along the snow. Surely StarClan could have done something to alter the situation, or hinder the disease, even? It didn't seem like a very fair fate to surrender to death because of greencough, especially for a young cat like Pinepaw.

Amberwing glanced over in the medicine cat apprentice's direction, eyes swirling with sympathy. "I am sorry that your clan has to face this. It's an experience no medicine cat should have to deal with, but I feel like we must all understand that herbs don't solve everything."

Nettlepaw's brief annoyance was suppressed by the understanding in the tom's voice, and she lowered her head in defeat. "I guess..." she murmured, still not completely satisfied with the conversation.

A flash of an unusual color amongst the glittering white in the snow-covered forest immediately snatched away Nettlepaw's short attention. She stopped in her tracks, craning her neck to peer into the thick foliage. Is that...?

"Yes, more lavender!" Nettlepaw cried out with a burst of exhilaration. We'd just ran out this morning! Oh, Honeyfrost is going to be very pleased that I managed to find some! The brown she-cat dashed forward to the young, small plant. From a distance, the herb perfectly resembled a lavender stalk, but as she approached, she noticed the difference. Honeyfrost did say weather changes nature.

"Nettlepaw, where are you going?" Amberwing called out from behind the apprentice as she slowed down, now upon the herb. "Why are you so excited about laven--"
"Look, it's hardly touched by the cold! It's perfect--!" The apprentice turned to face the WindClan tom, but her movements were halted as she examined the horrified expression locked on the ginger's face. She felt deep panic flowering in her chest, stone settling in her paws, fear spiking her fur.

"Nettlepaw, step away from that, now. You mustn't touch it. Please, come here. Now."

Nettlepaw inched away from the plant. "It-it's lavender," she protested, her breath quickening. What was the problem?

"It's foxglove," Amberwing hissed out, his tail lashing to and fro. "Lavender? It looks nothing of the sort! Get over here now!"

The brown she-cat dashed toward the medicine cat, ears flattened against her head, anxiety swimming in her wide blue eyes. "Honeyfrost said it's lavender," she croaked out, voice hushed.

The ginger tom curled his body around Nettlepaw, tail curling protectively along her back. "No," He growled out in reply, voice low. "You are mistaken. That is not lavender."

"But Honeyfrost said--"

"Honeyfrost is wrong! Foxglove is nothing like lavender. Can't you smell? Can't you see?"

Nettlepaw grew silent for a moment, her heart thumping in her chest wildly, blanketed by the WindClan tom's comforting, warm and thick fur shielding her from the cold--or from something worse. "Foxglove?" The word was bitter on her tongue.

"It's deadly. Very deadly. One of those flowers could instantly kill a cat. What has Honeyfrost been teaching you?"
His words swirled in her head as her mind began to process it, the world slowing down, crumbling beneath her paws. One of those flowers could instantly kill a cat. One of those flowers could instantly kill a cat. One of those flowers could instantly kill a cat.

"No." The word escaped her mouth slowly, her voice harsh, hardly even a whisper-her thoughts were tumbling violently in her head, and suddenly Amberwing's gentle soothing seemed as if invisible claws were fastening around her, tearing at her pelt, piercing her skin, entangling her and tightening around her... Oh, StarClan, no.

Her black paws scrambled at the tom's fluffy chest as she pushed herself out of his grasp, kicking her legs as he let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled back. "Nettlepaw, what are you doing?"

"I have to go," she cried out, twirling around in the snow, eyes briefly catching sight of the pretty purple figure in the distance before she propelled her small legs forward. "I have to go." The words slipped from her mouth in a broken voice, her mind shattered and eyes wide with despair. Snow burst behind her as she bolted from the tom and through the forest faster than a hare. Oh, StarClan, no. No, no, no.

For a moment, she thought she could hear Amberwing yowl after her, but the tom's voice was whisked away in the sharp wind as she burst through the forest. The environment around her seemed to muddle away; Thunderclan's strong scent dissipated in the crisp air, the sounds of chittering from rodents and a melody of birds overhead was washed over by Nettlepaw's heavy pants, and the heavy snow that wore down Nettlepaw's pace only seemed like a figure of her imagination.

A deep, throbbing pain began to settle in Nettlepaw's legs as she swerved around trees, leaping over rises of the snow-covered ground where roots lay. How could I have not noticed? Honeyfrost must've been giving me the wrong herbs-surely she was mistaken, surely this is all an accident. But how hasn't she recognized the different scents and appearances? Leafbare can't change a simple lavender plant like that--how does she not know? I have to save her, I have to save my clanmates!

Beyond her, the large, towering oaks began to break, thinning as a swath of evergreen trees swept over the horizon. Nettlepaw felt her twisted heart leap for joy, her strained legs desperate to slow down and relax, but she pushed forward, head lowered and ears flat. The shade of the enormous pines above her that covered the star-littered sky and sheltered the beautiful marshland below gave her a burst of energy as ShadowClan's familiar scent washed over the stench of ThunderClan. I need to find Honeyfrost, I need to tell her-

A shocked yowl split the air as a thicket shook before the dull gray she-cat emerged only for Nettlepaw to collide into her, body slamming into the large medicine cat. She attempted to skid to a stop but her rapid speed and the darkness of the night delayed her reaction, causing her to topple over her mentor.

"Nettlepaw, what in the name of StarClan are you doing?" Honeyfrost snarled. A sliver of moonlight glittered between the trees above, illuminating Honeyfrost's features, her unkempt fur now smeared with mud. The medicine cat struggled to rise to her paws, her lump of a leg swaying helplessly, her sharp yellow eyes flared with a spark of vexation. "It's the half-moon, you should be at the moonpool right now!"

Nettlepaw's chest burned violently with the sudden consequence of her fierce running. She panted heavily, her chest heaving in a desperate attempt to control her shaky breath, but as she opened her mouth the reply, she fought for words.

"You've gone and made me spill all of my herbs," Honeyfrost spat furiously as she stumbled toward crinkled leaves and petals strown loosely along the marsh floor that were crushed by the apprentice's body. "I spent all night collecting them because I had to take care of that damned-sick Ferretheart, and you've gone and undone everything. You useless heap of a cat."

Nettlepaw could hardly register the cruel words slipping from her mentor's mouth as Honeyfrost reached for a familiar clump of purple petals dotted with a darker color. "No!" She cried out, a burst of energy shooting through her as she staggered to her paws before barrelling into the large feline. "Foxglove! F-Foxglove!" Her voice was raspy but she mustered as much power into her words as she could as she yowled out desperately. Honeyfrost's eyes went wide, pupils sharpening into slits like claws.

"Get off of me!" she snarled, heaving off Nettlepaw with a violent shove, causing the apprentice to fall back with a squelching smack against the wet mud.

"No, you don't understand! Y-You've made a mistake!" Nettlepaw's hoarse and broken voice was pleading as she tried to struggle to her paws once more before exhaustion made her bones shake and collapse beneath her. "You've made a mistake! That's no herb, it's foxglove! Foxglove!"

Her desperate words were met by a strange, unsettling silence. Beside her, she could make out Honeyfrost's frame in the darkness as she pushed herself to her paw, piercing yellow gaze rounding on her. "I know."

Nettlepaw struggled to understand the she-cat's words, an unexplainable emotion settling deep in her stomach. "N-No, Honeyfrost, foxglove--it's-it's a dangerous plant, it's deadly--"

"I know," Honeyfrost repeated, harsher this time. She paused as though letting the words sink in--Nettlepaw's head began to spin and for a moment she forgot to breath.

"Who do you think I am, Nettlepaw? Am I just some medicine cat to you, some cat destined for this role?" The she-cat let out a cold laugh that scraped against Nettlepaw's ears, sending a deep shiver down her spine.

"I don't understand," Nettlepaw whispered. Honeyfrost looked much bigger now, she realized--the she-cat's towering form, large legs tensed and muscled beneath the ragged fur. Fear clawed at her chest.

"I think you do, Nettlepaw. I think you're smarter than that," the medicine cat hissed sweetly. "But really, how smart can one apprentice be when they're so gullible? I mean really, Nettlepaw, you didn't question the fact that weather can alter herbs like that? You didn't stop to question how bad their health was, even after so much treatment?"
"I-I did..."

"Clearly not enough to save those cat's lives." Her words pierced Nettlepaw's hearing like a sharp thorn. Her eyes widened as a wave of lucid realization washed over her, creating a deep feeling of nausea.

"You... killed them. You purposefully gave them a deadly plant."

"It doesn't sound so fun when you put it like that."

"Fun?" Nettlepaw choked on the word, a look of bewilderment and dismay glittering in her shocked gaze. "That's what you do it for? For fun?"

The medicine cat tipped her head back to let out a shrill laugh. "Are you serious? This is no game, fleabag. It runs much deeper," she hissed out.

Nettlepaw shifted back, her hind legs pressed up against a thicket. "No, I don't believe it," she protested, voice cracking. "What kind of cat kills another, their clanmates none-the-less?" Her head shook in dismay; for moons she trained under her medicine cat, the she-cat she had grown to appreciate despite her rough edges--but this? Where did this come from?

Honeyfrost stood with a darkening glint in her eye, slicing at the night air with her extended claws. "Don't you ever think that maybe not every cat is happy with their fate? That not every cat wants to follow a medicine cat's path, forbidden to have a mate or kits, sentenced to a destiny away from the glorified warrior life?"

Nettlepaw felt the thorns pierce her skin as she shuffled further from the deranged she-cat, her tail between her legs and body trembling. "What do you mean? Every cat gets to follow their own paths--StarClan just forges the destinies of a medicine cat. You... You told me that once. You told me that medicine cats are chosen."

"Exactly!" Honeyfrost's sudden loud snarl spooked Nettlepaw, giving the brown she-cat a small jump, pushing further into the thicket. "StarClan is the one who put me here. It's their damned fault I was shoved into this mouse-dunged position as a medicine cat. Do you know how it feels to be forced into this cat-healing bondage?" The gray she-cat thrust her accusing, furious glare toward Nettlepaw, who shook her head, fear gripping her body like tendrils of terror, clamping her mouth shut and entangling her in a fierce hold.

"No. Of course not. Because you never got to experience that. You enjoyed this life, you wanted it. StarClan rewarded you with this position. You'll never get to know that crushing feeling of knowing you'll never get to have a family, or how dreadful each day was to wake up to the taunts of my littermates that I'd never get to have the enriched life of a warrior. No, instead, I'm plunged into this despair. And you know why, Nettlepaw? Do you know why I had to be so special?"

The brown she-cat shook her head once more, too panicked to find her voice.

"Because of this leg," she snarled lowly, swinging around her body unsteadily, the gentle and soft light shifting down through the pine trees giving a light outline to Honeyfrost's missing limb. "All because of a lack of a flea-bitten leg." Her voice grew high and bitter as she resumed her pace. "They didn't give me one chance, not one chance, no, they gave me a single look and thought I was a mistake."

Nettlepaw froze up as the dull gray feline grew closer with each turn and limp. "You're not a mistake, Honeyfrost," she objected, her words slurred and hesitant, too terrified at the possibility of the she-cat's outlash. "You've served this clan for so long, you've helped so many cats--"
"So that's what I am now, huh?" she snapped back, sharp yellow eyes practically glowing with a burning anger. "Just a servant to this clan? I'll never get to do what I want. I'll never get to help myself. It's always about somecat else, it's always about another cat's problems. Well now it's StarClan's problem. They can atone for their mistakes. I'll help them by adding more cats to their ranks." She rose her head to the clear night sky where the band of stars glistened overhead, almost in disapproval. "Is that what you want, StarClan? More suffering and pain?"

Nettlepaw shook her head to and fro, her wild, wide eyes betraying a look of horror and disbelief at Honeyfrost's anguish. I have to stop this. I can't let her kill another cat because of her own anger. Her limbs still ached with the gentle throb of her furious run earlier, and although it eased, each movement strained her muscles. Bunching her legs together, she mustered as much energy as she could before sprinting off, feeling her pelt being snagged on the sharp thorns of the thicket.

"Don't you dare! Stop, Nettlepaw!" Honeyfrost's outraged cry was edged with desperation. The apprentice dashed madly through the marshland, following a familiar route to the camp nestled deep in the forest. Her legs throbbed violently with each strenuous leap over a log, but her slow pace still outmatched that of Honeyfrost who staggered after her, her missing leg causing her to lose balance and stumble.

Fear began to settle deep in her chest as she head the crashing and slam of pawsteps against the ground become closer and louder, her legs and lungs screaming in protest. But the scent of ShadowClan cats grew incredibly stronger as she began to approach camp, allowing a new energy to course through her body. I can stop this, I can stop the misery, I can--

She broke off in an ear-splitting yowl as her paw collided with a thorn that was hidden under the shadows, and it pierced into her paw, emitting such a sharp pain that she stumbled in her tracks, tumbling to her side. Sharp jolts prickled along her paw and through her leg as she cradled her paw against her chest, letting out a whimper. It was too dark to tell where the thorn had been jabbed into her paw, and she let out a cry as her nose came in contact with it. I can't pull it out, it's too deep, it hurts so much... I have to get up, I'm so close, I'm almost there...

Paw suspended in midair, Nettlepaw staggered to her feet, ignoring the growing ache burning in her pads. She heard the loud crashing behind her, close and rapid, causing her heart to beat furiously as she stumbled toward camp. Oh, StarClan, please, I can make it, I can make it--

A yowl echoed from behind her as a body barrelled into her side, causing her to smash into the ground. The breath was stolen from her lungs as she wheezed, pushing against the heavy, enormous weight of the much larger cat crushing her.

Honeyfrost pushed herself to her paws, her mangled dull gray pelt now flecked and smeared with mud, crazed yellow eyes narrowed with a piercing gaze. "I thought I could trust you, Nettlepaw," she rasped out between heavy breaths. "I thought you were smarter than to run away. And you've surely woken up the entire camp by now with your screaming. Tsk. I'll have to kill you before this goes any further."

"No-!" Nettlepaw began before Honeyfrost's paw was hooked around her neck, claws clenched into her fur, pricking her skin slowly, slowly, slowly drawing blood, piercing through her pelt and flesh. She choked on her words as a gurgled cry was wrenched from her throat The throbbing pain in her paw was growing dull in comparison to the agony seizing her throat as Honeyfrost's grip intensified. The brown apprentice swiftly kicked her hind legs up into the gray she-cat's stomach where she stood over Nettlepaw, but her weakened body quickly fell vulnerable to Honeyfrost's bloodthirst-driven strength.

"You were really a great apprentice, Nettlepaw," Honeyfrost whispered with a cooing voice, sickly sweet. "So hardworking, diligent. Your mind works in such intricate ways, so facinating. I'm sure any cat would be proud to mentor you." Her thorn-sharp claws seemed to fasten into her neck deeper, curling into the skin. "It's a shame you had to find out. It's a shame your knowledge will never be carried on." Her claws now began to twist, steadily sliding down the apprentice's throat, leaving blood to gush out. Nettlepaw gasped out in violent pain, her body writhing to escape Honeyfrost's clutch, but to no avail.

"I really liked you, too," she continued on. The apprentice could hear a distant shout, but the words were faded as her mind fought to keep focus.

"Please," she gasped out, agony gripping her voice, blood slipping from her open mouth, staining her tongue with a disgusting metallic taste. "Stop, please. You can st-still change. This isn't y-you. Please don't kill me-ahg!"

Honeyfrost dragged her claws along the apprentice's throat with a jagged thrust, allowing warm blood to gush out further. Nettlepaw cried out in pure pain as she grew light-headed, her body growing numb. "Shh-shh," Honerfrost purred, the hoarse noise emitting from her throat sounding more like a deep growl. The distant voices grew closer not, identifiable as faded shouts.

"You would have been such a great medicine cat," the gray she-cat murmured, seemingly unaware of the distance voices. "So happy, so content. It's just too unfair. How can one live their life, fulfilling their dreams, achieving their desires, while another will never get that chance?"

Nettlepaw coughed in response, feeling a bead of blood trail down her lip. The gash in her throat was now bleeding profusely, causing the apprentice to grow woozy. She fought for consciousness as pain gripped her body, shot after shot of agony sending spasms along her body, her legs twitching.

"I wish I could be given the same choice as you, Nettlepaw. Such a young, gifted cat. I wish StarClan could have allowed me to share your happiness. Maybe I wouldn't be like this."

You don't have to, please, please stop, Nettlepaw pleased silently, eyes screwed shut, her voice unable to present itself. So slow, so painful. StarClan, please make it stop.

The ground began to tremble, slowly, gentle quivers against Nettlepaw's body deepening. Another collection of voices and shouts, now becoming clearer.

"I almost feel sorry that you have to bear my pain," Honeyfrost had stopped sliding down her blood-stained claws across the apprentice's sliced throat, but dug them in to the deep cut, toes outstretched. "But I've grown lonely, carrying it alone. It's time somecat gets to understand how it feels. Perhaps you'll explain to StarClan when you see them."

Nettlepaw's hearing began to blur, her body gently shaking, each ragged wheeze fighting for a breath as blood poured from her wound. Time began to slow around her, and even as she gained the energy to blink open her eyes, Honeyfrost's ghastly figure seemed distant and almost transparent. She thought she could make out the movement of the large, ragged she-cat's lips, but the sound was muffled beyond recognition. Black speckles began to dot along her vision, tugging her back into a state of rest, but she resisted against the calling comfort. No. I hear somecat coming. I have to stay awake. I can't die. I can't die yet. I can't, not when I've hardly lived. Not when I did nothing wrong. Not when I have to stop her.

The shaking earth beneath her intensified tremendously as several sets of paws slammed against the ground approaching the two, the distant shouting clear yet faint in Nettlepaw's ears. The pain erupting from her throat had numbed her body and blood seeped from the tear in her skin where it pooled out, dribbling onto the marshland below. Please. Please. Please.

Suddenly, the bushes erupted with several cats, their claws outstretched, leaping forward to slam into Honeyfrost. Yowls and screeching exploded in the clearing, but the words were merged into a muddy mess, noises blurred out, vision hardly catching the blurs of browns and blacks and oranges flash in front of her, concealed under the darkness of night. Her paw gave a gentle twitch as her eyes grew dull, pained expression relaxing to a neutral state. Her fight for consciousness was ceased as the scene around her faded, sight dimming, sound dwindling away, the pain swirling around her into a sea that carried her from her woke body.

Silently, unknown to her fighting clanmates, she became limp.