Thread:Winterwhisper432/@comment-27172956-20160623061711

CuredWritten by Cypresspaw I stand at the edge of the Moonpool after running from my clan. Do I deserve to share the fate I brought upon them while I was playing StarClan? I do. I'm fixing them, curing them of the disease that threatened us. I did the right thing. I did the right thing. The full moon blazes through the starry sky. It's like I can hear the panicked whispers at the future Gathering only the healthy could attend, all asking the same question: Where is WindClan? WindClan isn't coming to this Gathering or the next or any Gathering after that. WindClan is gone. Eventually, someone who isn't sick is going to enter that camp. They will drop to their knees and scream. They'll count the bodies and find everyone except me. Then the medicine cats are going to visit the Moonpool and see me, the last one. My corpse will be here, rotting with the stars. This could easily be a beautiful night. Greenleaf heat tamed by the breeze. Hazy yet electric, as if the sleeping air dreams of thunderstorms. Dusklight would have loved this. Dusklight, a coward and my best friend. What a team we were! The weak and the crazy. Sorry Dusklight, but there's no more gauzy greenleafs for us. No more midday swims and poultices. If I were to pinpoint when things went wrong, I wouldn't start with Dusklight. I wouldn't even start with the plague. I would start with the first thing I ever saw. My mother, Wolfpelt. The first thing I ever laid eyes on was her, heaving and bloodied. Cats said before me, Wolfpelt was powerful. She was going to be leader. It was all great, until she fell in love with a rogue who left her. She was a force of nature, an inferno with fur. But I will remember her as I saw her, wearing disappointment like a butterfly wears its wings. Disappointment, in me and in herself, was an integral part of her. If someone were to pull her disappointment out of her, they should be ready to have her bones come along for the ride. "Rosekit," she murmured. "Thorny little Rosekit." I was thorny but not as thorny as her. Wolfpelt had a claw wound for a mouth and I was no exception to her temper. I would do anything to please her. I was three moons old and there was a turtle outside of the nursery. Wolfpelt adored turtles. Everyone said stay inside, there's a hawk out there. But if a turtle was going to make Wolfpelt happy with me, then a turtle she would have. I scampered out of the nursery, easily catching the turtle in my jaws. "Wolfpelt lo-" Screaming. Wind. One second I was on the ground with a turtle in my mouth and the next the turtle was on the ground and the ground was getting farther away. There was a sharp pain in my side, where talons were digging in. I shrieked, for Wolfpelt, for StarClan. And then the hawk was on the ground and I was buried in Stormstar's fluffy, white chest. "Thank StarClan," Daisystem breathed, heavy with what would later be Dusklight. Wolfpelt made her way to the front of the crowd that had gathered around me and the dead hawk. "You idiot!" she hissed, cuffing my ear. "What is wrong with you?  You knew there was a hawk!  Why were you out there?" I burrowed further into Stormstar's chest. It didn't make sense! This was supposed to make her happy! "Answer me!" Wolfpelt snapped. "I-I wanted to get you the turtle," I blubbered. "I know y-you like t-turtles." Daisystem flinched. Wolfpelt fell quiet with the clan. They were all waiting for her to say something. "The last cat to catch me a turtle left me," Wolfpelt whispered. "I don't know if I want the same thing to happen to you." She walked me back to the nursery. "I never wanted kits," she said. "I wanted to be leader and I was going to be but-" She sighed, and collapsed. "I'm sorry," I murmured, cuddling into the curve of her stomach. "I'm really sorry, Wolfpelt." But nothing I did could repent for the awful sin of being born and ruining my mother's life the same way she ruined mine. You don't just tell your kits you don't want them. You also don't have them make excuses for thing you did. I told Falconstrike I had long thorns in my nest when he treated the wounds on my flank. I told him I fell off a rock when he healed my twisted paw. I used to hate her for making me a medicine cat apprentice. I wanted to be out on the moor, with the wind in my fur. When I told Wolfpelt this, she told me we don't always get what we want. "I think you'll make a great medicine cat!" Duskkit exclaimed before my apprentice ceremony. "Whatever," I grumbled. "My stupid nightmares don't even have any prophecies." Every night, I dreamed and thought they were nothing. I dreamed of marvelous greenleafs turning muggy. I dreamed of fever and sweat and warm, sticky blood splattering across my face, up my nose, into my mouth. They weren't prophecies, but they did hold the future, even if I didn't know it at the time. Mallow. Poppy seeds. Marigold. Yarrow. Deathberries. Traveling herbs and painkillers. Duskkit liked to come in and watch me. "It looks fun!" she squeaked. "Then why don't you do it?" I snarled. Duskkit curled up. "No.  I want to be a warrior." "Exactly." That half-moon Falconstrike took me to the Moonpool. "Are you excited?" he asked. He knew I wasn't passionate about healing, but I was never difficult with him. "I guess," I said half-heartedly. "It's going to be pretty interesting, meeting StarClan." We were the first ones there. Falconstrike was completely calm, but I thought we were being watched. A rustle in the bushes as cats trickled in. Someone breathed down my neck. I had been here before. It was like something I had forgotten that I wanted so badly to remember. "Rosepaw!" I snapped to attention. "Drink from the Moonpool," Falconstrike goaded. I nodded. "Right." I leaned across the starry pool, about to take a sip, and I am met with holes instead of eyes. At the bottom of the Moonpool there was a skeleton. Glistening white bones that seemed so familiar. It stated up at me, like it was warning me. "Go on, Rosepaw." I lapped up the water, my eyes never leaving the scraps of a body. My sleep was dreamless, and now I understand why. That skeleton was a prophecy, because I never saw it again. Now I know what it meant. Wooziness hits me and I keel over. I don't have much time left. Moons passed and Rosepaw became Rosethorn, Duskkit became Duskpaw and finally grew into Dusklight. A few moons ago, at the beginning of greenleaf, in what seemed like a different lifetime, I taught myself to swim. It's supposed to be therapeutic, relaxing. "It isn't so bad," I said to Dusklight, who was anxious at the mere thought of water. "Yeah!  Water's great!  Go RiverClan!" A tom with russet plumes of fur dove in from the RiverClan shore. He swam toward us not like a cat, but a fish. "Hello!" he boomed. "I'm Flamestreak!" "Rosethorn," I replied, cautiously backing out of the water. "Hi!" Dusklight practically sang. "I'm Dusklight!" "What do you want?" I deadpanned, already sick of his optimism and her airy voice. "Nothing!" Flamestreak quipped. "I swim her all the time, and this is the first time I've seen you two here.  I didn't know WindClan cats could swim!" "I can't," Dusklight cooed, playing coy. "But you seem like a good swimmer." "I could teach you," Flamestreak offered. I shook out my cherry fur and left. I wasn't needed here. Dusklight went starry-eyed over some random tom for about a week, before moving on to the next one. He was from RiverClan, so what? I believed Flamestreak was another naive crush. I entered the camp. The blazing sun had already dried my pelt. Falconstrike rushed up to me. "Rosethorn, right on time!" He sounded anxious, which was rare. "Come with me." I followed him to the medicine den, where the last person I wanted to heal was lying. "I told you, I'm fine!" Wolfpelt snapped. "Leave me be!" Falconstrike shook his head. "She's been coughing up blood chronically, and she has a fever." "Blood?" Wolfpelt hacked, lurching forward. Mahogany dotted the ground. "Blood," Falconstrike confirmed. "Do you think it's greencough?" "Greencough is a leafbare disease." "We should give her catmint.  It might help." Falconstrike nodded and retrieved some fresh leaves from the store. "Thank StarClan it's greenleaf." Wolfpelt ate the catmint between coughing fits. I didn't like the way she shuddered, or how she struggled to breath even after the coughing receded. The blood was something I had never seen before. Something told me this infection was something worse than greencough. Wolfpelt kept Falconstrike and I up all night, with her violent coughing and feverish delirium. In the morning, we found her nest drenched in sweat. "I don't think the catmint helped," I remarked. "She seems worse." Wolfstrike spluttered all over Falconstrike. "My h-head," she moaned. "It feels like someone smashed my head against a rock." I placed my paw on Wolfpelt's chest. "Breathe." She inhaled, and it felt like there were stones in her lungs. "Rosethorn, fetch whatever herbs you can find." Falconstrike coughed blood onto the ground. The Gathering a few days later was hectic. Falconstrike couldn't even attend. Three sick in ThunderClan. Four sick in RiverClan. Six sick in ShadowClan. Two sick in WindClan. Hootfeather, ThunderClan's medicine cat, thought it was blackcough, or redcough. I argued neither of those progressed that fast, and they were able to be cured. ShadowClan was using up its catmint at an alarming rate, with no results. Nobody had any idea for a cure. "It's going to be fine," Dusklight said, leaning into Flamestreak's shoulder. I was surprised she was still into him. "I wouldn't be so sure," I cautioned. "This disease is highly contagious and fast spreading." "Do you think Wolfpelt is going to be okay?" "I don't know." We returned home. I stopped to pick up catmint along the way, for Wolfpelt and Falconstrike. Falconstrike looked dead, save the rise and fall of his chest. Wolfpelt was still, but her eyes were open. Her gaze locked with mine, and she beckoned me over. "I-Is it really you?" I bit my lip and looked down. "Yeah.  I brought some catmi-" Wolfpelt giggled, her whole body trembling. "You're back!  Just like you promised!  I knew it!" "Sure.  Can you take your medicine now?" Wolfpelt extended her arm as if to touch me. I backed away, not wanting to end up like Falconstrike in the nest over. "Cedar, I've missed you!  What took you so long?  Oh!  It doesn't matter.  You're back, back, back, I knew you would come back.  They called me crazy, but I knew.  Love doesn't die, you would come for me!" Cedar, that's who she thought I was. My father. He was named Cedar. Did he look like me? Did he even know about me? Cedar, who completely destroyed my mother. Was he charming? Was he kind? Would he love me if he saw me? Wolfpelt looked blissful, the disappointment absent from her face. She was rather pretty without it. Happy. The she-cat she once was. "Cedar, have you met our daughter?  Her name is Rosethorn.  She acts just like you, Cedar." So that's it then. I reminded her of the cat who broke her heart, who left her to the vultures. "Cedar, why did you leave?  I remember our last conversation.  We were on the roof of that Twoleg den, watching the sunset.  You promised you would always be there, and then you stopped coming.  Why?" I set the catmint in the store. Wolfpelt was hopeless. I sat down next to her. "C-Cedar you can't leave again.  No!  Where are you going?  No, you have to come back!  Don't do this!  Cedar!  You promised!  You promised me!  Stop!  Don't walk away again!  Please!  Cedar!" She was dead by sunrise. I didn't know. I just didn't know. She was my mother. Wolfpelt, never smiling, who I saw at her weakest. She hated me, right? I'm supposed to hate her too. I found myself at the lake, staring at my reflection. My face was gaunt, my eyes weary. Something in the water caught my attention, so I turned towards it. A turtle. On the glistening stone there was a turtle, alone, content. An anomaly. It stuck out, like a sore on a paw. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. Turtles. Turtles and Wolfpelt and Cedar. I hated him for leaving her. I hoped he died. I hoped he burned while everyone watched. He froze in the dead of leafbare. He begged for my mother in fits of delirium. He was impaled through the head. A hawk clawed out his eyes and forced them down his throat. Flies feasted on his body, black, buzzing, hysterical. I grabbed the turtle and smashed it onto the rocks. Falconstrike died the next day. Several more cats became infected. I had to move them to a separate area in the territory. A quarantine. Dusklight helped me in the medicine den, when she was here. "I hope you aren't seeing Flamestreak.  Cross-border relationships are against the code for the reason." "I'm not seeing him!" she lied. "Even if I was, why would you care?" Don't remind her how I was born, how there was no tom pacing outside the nursery. Don't tell her how my mother acted the night she died. Don't tell her this could ruin her. "You're my friend, Dusklight.  I just want you to be safe." "I am." I sighed and went back to my poultice. It wouldn't work. Nothing did. Everyone was going to die. Gathering attendance dwindled. Walking back to camp, I noticed a patch of herbs I had never seen before. They were flowers made up of smaller flowers, all white. I plucked one from its stem. When I woke up, I noticed an infected rabbit nibbling at the flower. I made no attempt to stop it, or even catch it. There were tons of rabbits but only one medicine cat and the last thing I needed was to get sick. As I organized herbs to take to the sick camp, I noticed something. The rabbit was acting healthier, more alert. Almost like it was cured. I dashed to drop off the herbs and came back. As the sun climbed, the rabbit grew stronger. I would never have been able to tell it was sick just this morning. The rabbit was perfect. That is, until sunset. It limped and squealed, curling up into a ball on the floor. Its ears flattened, and its eyes screwed shut. It died later that night. Those flowers were a fake cure. A slow poison. And there were hundreds of them, all growing in that one clearing. I stored that in the back of my mind. I was collecting chickweed with Dusklight, far from the flowers. Thankfully, she showed no signs of infection. Neither did I. "Rosethorn, can I tell you a secret?" Dusklight whispered, eyes glued to the ground. "Of course." Her golden eyes met my green ones. "I'm leaving WindClan." I almost shredded the chickweed with my claws. "What?" "I-I'm leaving.  With Flamestreak." "I can't believe-" "No!  Listen!  It's not safe here anymore!  We're facing an incurable disease and it isn't even leafbare!  What are we going to do when the cold sets in?  We will die!" "That doesn't mean you can just leave!" "I'm having kits!" I'm slack-jawed. Kits, right now? With a RiverClan tom! "You idiot," I hissed. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" "That's why I have to leave!" Dusklight pleaded. "I don't want my kits to die, and I want them to have both parents.  You, of all cats, should know that." I shook my head. "I'm not letting you leave." "You can't stop me." Dusklight tried to walk away, but I blocked her path. "You aren't leaving." She shoved her way past me. "Stop acting like Wolfpelt.  Let me go!" Something snapped within me. Weak. A coward for leaving. Leaving, just like Cedar did. She's going to leave me empty the way he left Wolfpelt. She's evil just like him. There was screaming and my claws were unsheathed and she was begging. Blood. Blood on her neck, on my paws. Blood where her eyes should have been. Blood everywhere. I swear I could hear her unborn kits scream. What have I done? I left her body and ran, not to camp, but to the patch of flowers. I bit off as many as I could, running to the medicine den. Then I rushed back and got more. Enough for the whole clan, minus Dusklight. I was the eye of the storm, strangely calm. They were all sick and I would make them better. I was going to cure the clan, finally. Rid them all of this disease. They'll thank me for it. First I fed the flowers to the sick, which was the majority of the clan. They shouted 'eureka' and reported feeling better almost immediately. Then I fed them to the healthy, 'for prevention'. They would all be dead come twilight. I was pacing my empty den. There was a single flower left, sitting in the spot where Wolfpelt died. We're all infected. For prevention. Every last one must be cured. I swallowed the flower and ran. The nausea hits me in waves now. I stumble into the Moonpool. The disease is going, going, almost gone. The skeleton I saw was always meant to be me. Any second now, I'll be dead. It doesn't hurt like I thought it would. No screaming, no pain. Just vertigo. I want to pass out. I collapse face-first into the water. Curing. I lose my breath. Curing. My lungs burn. Curing. I'm about to die. Curing. I spasm, thrashing, but I have no energy to reach the top. The Moonpool is deeper than I thought. It's never-ending. Curing. My fight dies, succumbing to the inevitable. Curing. I fall into the black abyss. Cured. 