"Yep, that's a nice sprain," Bluewillow meowed, tugging on Fernpaw's paw again. The apprentice yelped, and the medicine cat nodded. "I'll wrap it up, and you can go back to your nest."

Great, Fernpaw sighed. I'll be off duties for at least two days. That means mouse bile and changing bedding! A small smile crept its way across her face. At least Locustpaw offered to help me. He's a really good friend.

Bluewillow returned, carrying a stack of large leaves. She set them on the floor, and placed a large leaf on either side of Fernpaw's foreleg. She had Briarpaw hold them in place while she secured them on with a stick and some cobwebs. Fernpaw avoided her brother's gaze. I still haven't told him it's my fault, she thought with a sigh.

The blue tabby stopped. "Did I hurt you? You sighed."

"No, sorry, Bluewillow," Fernpaw meowed. "I've just got some things on my mind."

   "I understand," Bluewillow nodded. "Alright, you can go now. Remember, no leaving camp for at least two days. Check in at sunhigh, moonrise, and dawn each day."

   Fernpaw nodded, her paws itching to leave the den. "Thanks, Bluewillow and Briarpaw," she dipped her head to them, then limped out of the den, holding her forepaw up in the air. She headed towards the fresh-kill pile, where the queens, elders, and warriors that had stayed in camp sat.

   Glancing around, she saw Locustpaw and made her way over to him. "Hi!"

   The black tom looked up from the vole he had just chosen to eat. "Hi, Fernpaw! Is it sprained?"

   "Yeah," she sighed. "Camp duties for two days."

   "I'll do them with you," Locustpaw offered. "It's not fair that you have to do them alone just because you were injured."

   Fernpaw purred and nuzzled him. "Thank you, Locustpaw. That's really nice of you."

   The black tom smiled. "Of course. Here, share this vole with me. I couldn't possibly finish it on my own!"

   She smiled and crouched down next to him to eat. He took a big bite from the prey, then she did the same. The meat was warm and chewy in her mouth, and she savored the flavor.

   This is nice, she reflected as she took another big bite. So big, in fact, that she began to choke. Coughing and spluttering, she motioned frantically with her tail to the hunk of meat lodged in her throat. Locustpaw's eyes widened, and then, in one swift move, he smacked her in the stomach with a forepaw. The meat flew out and over to the prey pile. Fernpaw was left gasping for breath, a dull ache in her stomach.

   "You ok?"

   Fernpaw panted. "Y-yes. Thank you."

   Locustpaw nodded, wrapping his tail around her. "No problem. We should probably leave the vole for some other cat, though. It seems like a safety hazard."

   Her whiskers twitched. "Ok. Let's go do..." she sighed. "Camp duties."

   The two apprentices stood, making their way over to their mentors, who sat in front of the warriors' shelter den.

   "Good morning," Marigoldshine dipped her head to them.

   Fernpaw copied her move. "Good morning. What duties are we doing today?"

   Kestrelwing answered. "Fernpaw, you will be changing the nursery residents' and the elders' bedding," she turned her gaze to her apprentice. "And you will change the apprentices bedding, then go out with Bluewillow and Briarpaw to collect herbs."

   Fernpaw shot Locustpaw a look. We're not doing separate jobs. We'll get it all done together.

   "Thank you," the white tabby dipped her head to them again. "We'll begin now."

✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎✮︎✩︎

   It was just after sunhigh when the two apprentices entered the elders' den.

   "Who knew it could take so long to change the bedding in two dens!?" Fernpaw heaved a massive sigh. "I'm exhausted!"

   "And we also gathered herbs," Locustpaw pointed out. "That took from dawn to sunrise."

   A white head lifted from a mossy nest nearby. "'Ello, youngsters! What brings 'ya in today?"

   "Hi, Palefrost," the white tabby apprentice meowed, dipping her head respectfully. "We're here to change your nests and search for ticks."

   Locustpaw wrinkled his nose at the mouse -bile-soaked moss he carried on a stick. "I don't know how you three stand the smell of this vile stuff."

   Palefrost flicked her tail tip dismissively. "Ya get used to it."

   Another cat, this one black with gray flecks lining their muzzle and ears, stretched in his nest. He parted his jaws in a massive yawn, and turned his sightless scarred eyes to the apprentices. "Who's this? They ain't smell like Twigpaw and Breezepaw... are they the new ones?"

   His white denmate nodded. "Crowscar, these are Fernpaw and Locustpaw."

   "They aren't Leafkit's littermates, are they?"

   "Fernpaw is," Palefrost said. "But Locustpaw is brothers with Rabbitpaw."

   Leafkit... Fernpaw felt a pang in her chest. That name carries so much sorrow and grief.

   Crowscar's nose twitched as he scented the air. "Alright, which one of you two are tending to my ticks? I got a real nasty one at the base of my tail."

   Locustpaw sighed. "I'll get right to it, Crowscar." As he settled down next to the old black tom, a third elder shook awake.

   "Eh? What's goin' on?"

   "There are apprentices here, Fawnspark," Palefrost meowed to the ginger-brown she-cat. Fawnspark had sparkling green eyes and pretty white dapples on her shoulders and flanks.

   She must have been very pretty in youth, Fernpaw guessed from her silky fur that was matted in a few places, as well as her lean build and short ears.

   Fawnspark turned her gaze to the white tabby apprentice who was grabbing a big chunk of Palefrost's nest. "Fernpaw, right? You and your littermates are the youngest apprentices, correct?"

   Fernpaw nodded. "Yes, that's me." She saw Locustpaw's whiskers twitch, and she shot him a glare.

   "Well, do you want to hear a story while you're tending to us?"

   "Yes, please!" Fernpaw had never been able to visit the elders as a kit, as she was supposed to go for the first time on the day after Leafkit died.

   Fawnspark's whiskers twitched. "Alright, I'll tell you the story of Brokentail."

   "Is this an Ancient Era story?" Fernpaw asked, eyes sparking with interest.

   The elder nodded. "Brokentail was born to a medicine cat with the name of Yellowfang, in ShadowClan."

   "But medicine cats can't have kits!" The apprentice gasped. "That's against their code!"

   "I know," Fawnspark meowed. "She was a warrior before she became a medicine cat, and was already carrying kits when she took up the position. Anyway, when Brokenkit was born, she had to give him away to another queen, so that the Clan wouldn't find out that she had had kits with the leader, Raggedstar."

   "That must have been horrible," Fernpaw muttered, imagining having to give up her kits to keep her position in the Clan. "For both of them."

   Fawnspark sighed. "It was. Brokenkit grew up to be the viscous and ruthless Brokentail. He killed many cats to become leader, including his father, Raggedstar. He killed two kits and blamed it on Yellowfang, and banished her."

   "But why?"

   "So that he could have total power over ShadowClan," the elder scowled. "He drove out WindClan and almost destroyed ThunderClan, but a young cat named Firepaw and his Clanmates in ThunderClan took Brokenstar prisoner, demoting him to Brokentail."

   The apprentice gasped. "Firepaw! Isn't that the great Firestar?"

   "Yes," she nodded. "It was. Anyway, Brokentail was blinded in the battle, and Yellowfang later poisoned him with deathberries."

   "Her own son..." Fernpaw suddenly felt queasy. "D-did he know Yellowfang was his mother?"

   "Yes, she told him in his dying breath," Fawnspark meowed solemnly. "But, the moral of this story is to not let ambition blind you and force you to do terrible, terrible things."

   Fernpaw nodded, still feeling stung. "Thank you for telling me a story, Fawnspark," she dipped her head shakily, then carried another mouthful of bedding out of camp.

   Yellowfang, a medicine cat, had to kill her own son!? The Ancient Era must have been a terrible, terrible time for the Clans.