The next day, it was snowing heavily. Brownstripe instructed some of the freshkill to be stored in the prey store, a big hole near the nursery.

Frostleaf was hardly visible in the snow because of her light gray pelt, and that caused Goldenfeather to jump when Frostleaf talked to her.

"So, are you and Grassheart mates yet?" Frostleaf asked her. Goldenfeather beamed with happiness. "Of course we are! After the Gathering, we went out for a nice walk and Grassheart said that he wanted to be my mate!"

"So that's why you aren't at the den earlier last night," Frostleaf commented.

"Congrats!" Stormleaf suddenly interupted. "I'm so happy for you!"

Goldenfeather looked embarrassed at the centre of attention and she made up excuses to get out of the conversations. Frostleaf purred laughingly.

~~~~

Two and a half moons have passed, but leaf-bare seemed to go on forever, causing the shortage of prey.

"I'm worried about Russeteyes," Stagwind mewed to Frostleaf one day when she was treating her injured paw. "Her appetite is getting poorer and I am afraid that the kits wouldn't have enough milk."

"I see," Frostleaf said, shaking her injured paw.

"The Clan is getting thinner and I had cases of whitecough," Stagwind sighed.

"It's not serious, right?" Frostleaf asked worriedly.

"It might get more serious and turn into greencough. I have little catmint and tansy left, if one of us have serious greencough, it might not be enough," she replied.

"I will help you find more catmint and tansy," Frostleaf promised.

"Thank you. So far only Sparrowshadow and Ashwhisker have whitecough, so my stocks of herbs would be enough for now," she mewed gratefully.

"Stagwind!" Appleshade called, ending the conversation. "Nightstar is injured by a fox. Help him quick!" Stagwind grabbed some cobwebs and horsetail and rushed to the scene.

Frostleaf helped her to carry the bundles of herbs. When they reached there, Grayclaw was crouching over Nightstar. "He's hardly breathing!" he yowled.

Stagwind's eyes lit with alarm but she started covering the wounds to stop the blood from flowing. Nightstar's breathing just became shallower and shallower until it finally stopped.

"He's in the paws of StarClan now," Stagwind sighed.

"Is this his last life?" Appleshade asked. Stagwind shook her head.

Grayclaw breathed a sigh of relief. Frostleaf paced around nervously. It was tense, all this waiting.

Suddenly, Nightstar breathed in again and rose shakily to his paws. "Are you alright?" Frostleaf asked.

"I've lost a life, but I will be fine," he rasped.

Grayclaw and Appleshade supported him back to camp. Back at camp, Brownstripe spotted them and ran towards them.

"What happened?" he demanded. "A fox attack at the ShadowClan border," Grayclaw replied.

Stagwind interupted them and mewed to Brownstripe, "I want to discuss something with you. And Frostleaf," she said, turning to her, "I still need to see your paw."

Both warriors nodded as Stagwind ushered Appleshade and Grayclaw away.

In the medicine cat den, Stagwind frowned. "You opened up a cut just now. Stay still." Frostleaf held up her paw gingerly.

The scent of marigold and horsetail hit her nose as Stagwind carefully wrapped up her paw with cobwebs. "Try not to run so much until the wound is healed."

Stagwind dropped to a whisper and told Brownstripe, "Nightstar is on his last life. I am worried that when you become leader, you might suffer old age related illnesses."

"I am telling you to look after Nightstar more," she explained.

Brownstripe nodded. "I understand your concerns."

"The Clan must not know," Stagwind insisted. Frostleaf backed out of the den, almost bumping into Timberkit.

"Sorry," he squeaked.

She quickly walked over to the meger freshkill pile. "We need to hunt again soon," Frostleaf mumbled to Grassheart.

"You need to rest. You have been hunting all morning and your paw has not recovered," Grassheart replied. "I will go hunting later."

Frostleaf sneezed and said, "Is it me, or the wind is getting colder?"

"It's probably nothing," he shrugged it off.

What they don't know is that a storm is coming. Not just any storm, it is a snow storm that will bury half the camp.