Bearstrike's POV

I followed my brother's lead, stepping toward the half-dead medicine cat den. Leafpool looked up at me with a soft smile, her amber eyes warm despite the grim situation. "Good to have you here, Bearstrike," she said, her voice full of quiet reassurance. She then turned to nudge Cinderpelt's head gently, but the elder's limp form just slumped back, lifeless.

"I need you to gather some rosemary, comfrey, and cobwebs for me, please," Leafpool instructed, her voice steady despite the weight of the moment.

I nodded, swallowing hard. This was happening—whether I was ready or not. I had no idea what I was doing, but I couldn't back out now. I turned and headed toward the medicine den. As I walked through the entrance, the scent of herbs hit me, sharp and unfamiliar. It was strange. I had always been a warrior, focused on battle and protection, not on gathering leaves or tending to wounds. But now... now it was different.

I sniffed the air, my mind racing but focused on the task at hand. There were so many different smells: some sharp, some sweet, some medicinal. Without really thinking, I began to paw through the leaves, finding what Leafpool had asked for. The act of sniffing around felt almost instinctual—like the motions had been embedded in me without me realizing it. It was strange. But I pushed those thoughts away. Cinderpelt needed me. The clan needed me. This was my responsibility now, and I was going to do whatever I could to help.

I gathered what I could, each leaf and cobweb feeling heavier in my paws than the last. But I couldn't stop now. Not with so much at stake.

I carried the herbs back to Leafpool, who was smiling faintly at me as I approached. She nodded in approval and then began to patch up my brother's mate, Cinderpelt. Her paws moved quickly, but carefully, as she worked to tend to the deep wound in Cinderpelt's side. For a moment, I allowed myself to hope. Maybe we could still save her. Maybe it wasn't too late.

A soft rustling behind me pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Snowdrop, his face pale and stricken with grief, staring down at Cinderpelt's ravaged body. His eyes were dry, but his expression was hollow, like he was already mourning the loss of his mate.

"You're trying to save her?" His voice was distant, almost as if he were asking himself more than me. His gaze never left Cinderpelt's still form.

"Yes, brother," I said, stepping toward him, my voice firm but gentle. I pressed my tail against his flank in a silent gesture of support. "We are."

Snowdrop's eyes met mine for a brief moment, and I could see the pain in them—pain that was too raw, too fresh to hide. He didn't speak again, but he didn't need to. He understood. We were all doing everything we could. There was nothing else to say.

I turned back to Leafpool, who was still working. It wasn't much, but it was all we had. And we weren't giving up. Not yet.

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We worked through the long hours of the night, my paws growing numb and my body aching with exhaustion. Time seemed to blur as I helped Leafpool tend to Cinderpelt, gathering more herbs and carefully watching her every movement. The scent of medicine and blood filled the air, mixing with the tension that hung over us all.

By the time the sky outside had darkened completely, and the moon was high above us, I felt my strength slipping away. My eyelids grew heavy, my movements slower. I knew I couldn't keep this up forever.

Leafpool, who had been tirelessly tending to Cinderpelt's wounds, suddenly lashed her tail. Her voice was firm but gentle. "Go to sleep, Bearstrike. I'll take it from here."

I nodded, too tired to argue, and stumbled toward the warriors' den. The exhaustion hit me all at once, and my legs felt like they might give out under me. I curled up beside Dogspirit and Wolfshadow, who both immediately wrapped their tails around me in a protective embrace.

"We're proud of you, sister," Dogspirit murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and quiet pride.

I smiled, leaning into their comforting presence, letting their warmth and reassurance soothe the tension in my body. I didn't need to say anything in response—I knew they meant it.

And before I could think of another word, sleep took me. It came quickly, wrapping around me like a blanket, and I fell into it without hesitation, grateful for the brief respite from the weight of the world that I carried.

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The next day rolled around, and the sky shifted from dark to pink as the first light of dawn painted the horizon. I stirred in my nest, blinking the sleep from my eyes. When I looked around, I noticed that both my brothers were gone. A pang of disappointment tugged at my chest, but I shook it off. I stretched my stiff muscles and stood, my body aching from the long night of work.

I padded out into the clearing, my paws dragging slightly as I moved toward where Cinderpelt had been. My heart sank when I saw the space where she had once been—empty. She was no longer lying there, and the sharp scent of herbs lingered in the air, mixed with the unmistakable tang of blood.

Leafpool was standing a little distance away, gathering herbs. Her back was to me, but I called out her name softly. "Leafpool?"

She turned around slowly, her eyes tired, but there was a smile on her muzzle as she saw me. "Did we do it?" I asked, my voice tight with hope. "Did we save Cinderpelt?"

Leafpool nodded, wrapping her tail around her paws with a soft, tired sigh. "We sure did. StarClan is willing, but now it's only up to her to come back to us."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I felt my body relax for the first time in what felt like ages. Cinderpelt had survived the worst of it. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but there was hope now. And that was all we could ask for.

I stood there for a moment, watching Leafpool as she carefully placed the herbs she had gathered into a small pile. For a brief moment, we were both silent, the weight of the night behind us, and the quiet hope of the future ahead. It wasn't over yet, but we had done everything we could, and now it was up to Cinderpelt to find the strength to recover.

And somehow, I believed she would.