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Fandom A medicine cat’s loyalty

Moonpetal raised her chin high, refusing to be intimidated. She knew that Shadowclan wouldn't attack her, their clan was too weak to fend off the whole of Thunderclan.

"You can refuse the help, or you can accept. We both know that the monsters are taking over your territory. If the sick cats are all close to the herbs they need, we can give them better treatment." Moonpetal explained.

She forced her fur to stay flat as Muckflower stalked closer. Her only movement was her tail flicking back and forth and her shoulder occasionally twitching in pain.
 
“We’ll take you’re offer!” Interrupted a pale muscular Tom, his fur making him standout amongst the black colored cats, along side a black and ginger she cat with a white face.

The warriors seemed hesitant to agree with their leader, while the medicine cat and the deputy exchanged a glanced of quiet disagreement.

The tortoiseshell she-cat turned to Palestar, whispering something to his ear. He paused looking around at the questioning warriors as his deputy spoke.

“Amberwound may be right. How can we be sure to trust thunderclan?” Palestar voiced what all of Shadowclan was thinking, Amberwound glaring at the smaller she-cat as she made way besides Muckflower, the two seeming like odd friends.

“…what’s the end game? Shadowclan can’t live in thunderclan territory forever, and two-legs are already making way for thunderclan camp..” Muckflower spoke pointedly at the white thunderclan cat. Amberwound standing by his side, nodding to the tom’s statement.
 
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Moonpetal was starting to get impatient, and as a result her natural sharpness seeped through the sweet facade.

"What other choice do you have? You know your clan can't survive without assistance. You can trust Thunderclan, because at this point your own clan is so weak that if we really wanted to take Shadowclan over, we could have." Her mew was cold, and she ignored Muckflower's growl.

"As for the twolegs, we will worry about that later. You can either trust Thunderclan or not. Makes no difference to me." Moonpetal's fur was bristling at this point in anger. Muckflower's apprentice and Shadowclan's deputy looked ready to tear off her fur at calling their clan weak. Muckflower, on the other hand, looked like he would have torn her throat out if Palestar wasn't there. Moonpetal wasn't exactly off to the best start with Shadowclan.
 
Palestar professional manner was broken by Moonpetal’s words, but quick to fix himself despite the thunderclan’s rudeness. He breathed to collected himself easily, the white Tom leveled headed as he understood that most cats wouldn’t understand their predicament.

The other cats didn’t seem as calm, not bothering to hide their boiling aggression as they circled the cat. They claws itched begging to drag the she-cat and toss her in the newly built thunder path where shadowclan camp stood, wishing to see her corpse smeared along the pavement like crow food at her disrespect.

“I’ll be talking to Rosestar about this when we house with Thunderclan.” Palestar spoke honestly, not being able to help it sounding like a threat. He knew Shadowclan wouldn’t enjoy the move, as they would leave the graves of their loved ones and friends, and their home.

Palestar motions for the patrol to step back, something they seemed very hesitant to do. Muckflower growls to speak a word of advice at the smaller medicine cat before Amberwound stopped him, her pelt brushing against his.

The Shadowclan warriors step back, taking their herbs back to camp. Amberwound and Muckflower speaking of meeting up with a ‘Swanpaw’.

All have left the thunderclan she-cat in the fog, except a small white apprentice that seemed invisible before the parting of her older clan mates.

“I’m sorry about that…but to be fair what you said was kinda touchy.” The apprentice spoke seriously but softly, starting a conversation with the medicine cat.
 
Moonpetal huffed out her breath, both relieved that she didn't get attacked and ashamed at her rudeness. It would have been her own fault if her fur got ripped off, though she knew that Rosestar would lead Thunderclan against Shadowclan. The white she-cat licked her shoulder, face screwing up in pain.

A young she-cat mewed softly and Moonpetal jumped a tail-length in the air. She could have sworn that she was alone. She stared at the other cat, blinking a few times in attempt to reassure herself that she wasn't seeing Starclan. Against the dark forest, the little cat seemed to glow.

"Who..Who are you?" Moonpetal inquired nervously. Perhaps her wound was getting festered and she was seeing things. Hopefully not, she was Thunderclans only medicine cat. The other cat let out a small purr of amusement, seeming to try and reassure Moonpetal. The strange cat had no scent except death coming from her.
 
“I’m Cloverpaw, Muckflower’s appreciate. I’m sure you two met.” She spoke politely, despite referring to the Tom she just couldn’t bare to get along with.

“…Shadowclan been growing through a lot, we have a lot to lose with so much already lost. Anyone would be hesitant to trust a single cat’s word..” the dawn spotted she-cat explained, hoping to provide.

“…you’re lucky Palestar is as tolerate as he is.” She smartly responded under her breath with a smile.

Cloverpaw’s politeness was obviously a front, her body looking tired and hiding a deep sadness. She was only happy to speak to Moonpetal as a favor, the apprentice really still grieving like every other Shadowclan cat.
 
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Moonpetal relaxed and scolded herself. She recognized the young cat from the gathering. Cloverpaw seemed to have lost all of her excited energy now. This was just another cat, not the ghosts of Starclan. She composed herself and flicked her tail in a greeting.

"Hello Cloverpaw. I am glad that Palestar has a level head. Do you need any more herbs? I would offer prey, but.." she trailed off. She ignored the hunger that rumbled in her own belly. Moonpetal scraped her mind for any herbs that might help Shadowclan. She was still a 'paw when her mentor died, and Rosestar granted her full name. It left Thunderclan with a barely trained medicine cat. Moonpetal directed her attention back to Cloverpaw, sensing the other cat wanted to say something.
 
“Juniper. Muckflower needed juniper berries.” The apprenticed answered curtly, her fawn spotted pelt and sickly smell gave off the illusion of her being a disguise as undergrowth.

“Muckflower has theory on how to stop the plague, saying that it may be rat poison from the two-leg place or city born parasites..” she spoke absently kindly as she reminisced on her mentor’s teaching.

The wind changed direction, blowing in the smell of death and sickness. The camp practically oozing the sounds of death, calling Cloverpaw back to her duty.

“I have to go soon..” the she cat spoke shyly, getting up in turn of the camp tiredly. The fog swallowing her as she stepped only a paw away from the thunderclan healer.

“Need anything else?” She whispered, only her green eyes glowing coldly from the deep fog.
 
Juniper! Moonpetal suddenly remembered that the plant existed. She was embarrassed to not have remembered it. What a medicine cat I am. She thought bitterly to herself. At the moment though, there were more important matters to worry about.

"When will Shadowclan be moving it's sick?" Moonpetal asked quietly. The fog had already swallowed Cloverpaw, but Moonpetal knew that she was still there.
 
“Bring our sick?” She repeated, her voice carrying a sad amusement over the cool air.

“Those who can walk will be moving with the well all the same. It’s too late to differentiate from the corpses and the sick.” The white cat spoke grimly in the fog, before her steps sounded the apprentice leaving.
 
Moonpetal hung her head for a moment, grieving the almost fallen clan, before making her way back to the camp. She informed Rosestar on what happened then went to the medicine den. Blacknose had died while she was gone, slipping away so softly that no cat noticed until now. Moonpetal let out a wail of grief, Blacknose had been a close friend to her. He had a mate who was expecting kits, and now would never see them be born. Rosestar rushed into the den when Moonpetal wailed, and when she saw the dead cat her eyes filled with sadness. There were two sicknesses haunting the clans.

A vigil was carried out that night, although there was no body to be mourned, Rosestar helped Moonpetal dig a grave quickly and they had already laid the warrior in it. Sickness would otherwise spread. Moonpetal stayed up through the night again, alternating between mourning her clanmate and taking care of the sick.

As soon as dawn came, Moonpetal brought Dawnwhisker to help her gather juniper berries and brought them to the makeshift camp that was still empty at the moment. After that, she got Rosestar's permission to go wait at the Shadowclan border. She had grabbed some fresh dock on the way, and sat to wait. Her wound stung as it absorbed the healing juices of the herb, though Moonpetal suspected that it wouldn't stay on long.
 
Shadowclan whispered in a silent grief amongst themselves as they gathered supplies for the coming trip. They step over the bodies of cats they would never get to bury, gathering thorns, twisted roots, and moss for new dens.

The shaded cats didn’t take the news of losing their newly earned home so quickly in favor of housing in enemy territory. While some elders decided to stay put rather dying in their home then living in forgiven lands, but most warriors were too tired to fight and simply got to work for the long trip only a few days away.

Cloverpaw races around the medicine den, checking the ill and dead to see who was fit for the trip to thunderclan. Muckflower organizing his herbs for one last time before meeting moonpetal at the border.




Muckflower meet the medicine cat truly alone, all warriors too busy saying their goodbyes and gathering supplies.

He glared at the she-cat, remembering Moonpetal’s disrespectful to the clan and having to hold back a growl at the she-cat.

“Dock again?” He spoke sternly, the huge Tom sitting down to count the herbs unhappy with what was provided.

“We need tansy and water mint along with the feverfew you provided for the clan to make the trip to thunderclan camp..” he spoke with a huff, planning herb dispute in his head to increase shadowclan’s stamina for the long harrowing trip.

The maned brown Tom stood tall to meet Moonpetal’s gaze, looking for her response with a scrutinize glare after overhearing her inexperience as a healer in a way to test the pale cat.
 
Moonpetal paused in her grooming, tongue stuck halfway out. She thought for a bit before looking Muckflower in confusion.

"Tansy is for colds, unless you have cats getting sniffly in there, wouldn't it be better to give them a little bit of borage instead of tansy?" She didn't realize that the tom was testing her, and was looking at him like he had two tails. Her wound was starting to look irritated, even with the reapplied dock.
 
“Tansy can sooth the throat and prevent further spread of coughs, far better for a large group of sick cats to travel through the cold.” he spoke as he searched though the herbs, his tone so straight forward it can seem condescending.

“..Borage is for stomach aches and fevers, something that we’ve been using for the sick cats. Something we need to save” he repeated sternly, as if talking to Cloverpaw. Despite coming off as rude, the Tom really enjoyed talking about his knowledge of herbs and their benefits.

He smiled as he finally finished organizing the herbs placed in front of him, each herb in it’s own place in order of most likely to spoil. He only now looking up to see Moonpetal’s growing wound, it causing the smile to erase with gap in his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
 
Moonpetal absorbed the information, the knowledge being locked away for future reference. She helped Muckflower with the herbs, trying not to focus on her wounded shoulder. The white she-cat had assumed that the wound wasn't healing properly yet only because how much she was running back and forth between camp and other places.

"Let's start bringing the cats to Thunderclan territory." Moonpetal mewed, desperate to do something. Her tail was twitching and her whiskers twitched in surprise when Muckflower started examining her wound.
 
“Do you clean wounds before you apply dock?” The Tom asked skeptical, moving in closer to examine the wound. Muckflower raises his paw with a professional confidence, touching the cut with wound with his paw gently to see for a reaction.

He bag an to mutter something about ‘infection’ and needing ‘chamomile’ but made no effort to speak up until he was finished poking around. The pale cat’s yellow wound oozing under his probing made him grimace.

“Reopen this, clean it properly with some wet moss and through grooming. Treat it with marigold, horse tail, and then dock. Make sure to roll on wild garlic til you sure it’s completely healed.” He spoke sternly as if ordering around a patient. He forgotten himself as he talked, continuing to murmur on about various herbs and treatments.
 
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Moonpetal felt thoroughly scolded. She should have known that!

"I-I did clean it," the she-cat started defensively, "I just forgot the other herbs, is all." Muckflower just stared at the young cat. Moonpetal shifted her paws and took a few steps back from the tom, too embarrassed to continue her argument. It was clear now just how little training Moonpetal had received.
 
“…” the tom simply stared at the the white she-cat, almost feeling pity for Moonpetal if it wasn’t for her rude remarks during the herb patrol’s arrival.

“…We’ll need chamomile, lavender, and perhaps thyme when Shadowclan settles in thunderclan. Starclan knows our warriors need it.” He spoke over his shoulder as he stepped into the foggy territory, wordlessly expecting her to follow.


The territory was stark in contrast to Moonpetal’s home, the forest clawing dark shadows on the hard earth. The trees were twisted and bare, completely different to the thunderclan strong oaks.

The fog consumed all it touched, rendering anything more than a fox tail away invisible. The wind cold, carrying the smell of sickness all the way from camp. The stench of death and pain grew stronger as the two healer’s walked.

As the two drew nearer, they could hear more clearly the moans of those still alive. Sounding through out the woods as if a portal to the dark forest itself has open, releasing all those damned souls screaming for forgiveness with broken lungs.


“We’re here.” Said Muckflower coming to a stop, the fog hiding the lower plateau of the camp’s horrors, just behind a veil of thorns and bramble.
 
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Moonpetal couldn't help but flinch in shock as she took in the Shadowclan camp. Dead cats were everywhere. She had never seen so many dead cats in her young life, especially not all at once. Fog clung to the cat's bodies, as if trying to hide the horror of scene. The white cat stuck close to Muckflower, too horrified to stray far from him.
 
The atmosphere was grim if it wasn’t already for the dead cats that littered the forest floor. No cat wanted to leave their home, and some used this as their last opportunity to try to awaken their clan mates in hope that they’d be able to walk to Thunderclan. No cat was successful in doing so.

The few who were well enough to walk were very busy, tearing down the camp for its parts. Dark pelted cats picking at thorns and sticks to carry to Thunderclan. Shadowclan cats stuff the material into their tangle pelts, moss, and twigs sticking out of fur coats.

Muckflower began to lead Moonpetal through the maze of bodies, each varying in rot and some still half alive. Some corpses seemed to just lose their souls with freshly glazed eyes, while others were withered and bloated as if mummified in parasitic water with worms squirming out their noses. Moonpetal sometimes couldn’t tell the difference, whether it was gas released from corpses' mouths or the last of pitiful moans leaving the dying.

Cloverpaw raced to her mentor, seeming an expert at bouncing between body and body. The white cat appeared like a quick ghost, tiredly and exhausted she began to speak.

“I sent out a herb patrol. Is it really time to go?” she began, a knowing melancholy seeped into her voice like water to a drowned cat’s lungs. Muckflower was about to respond, but a gurgling yowl screeched through the camp, interrupting him.


“You can’t take me from my home! You can’t! I’ll claw your face off I will-“ haggled an elder, before spilling into a coughing fit. A group of younger warriors was trying to drag them from their filthy dens.

“I’ll drag you to the marsh instead Frogear!” Brutally scolded the tom dragging the old black cat. Despite the words seeming relatively unthreatening, it shut for a moment before going back to bickering with the poor tom.


Their scuffle now relatively quiet allowed Muckflower to finally respond to his apprentice. As he spoke, he led Moonpetal to the medicine den, where the bodies seemed to pile out like dead rats around poison.

“We’ll begin handing out strengthening herbs to the warriors for the trip.” He answered so stalely that everything might have seemed normal.
 
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Moonpetal felt a stab of empathy for Shadowclan, an unexpected but a feeling that she had to act on. The white cat left the medicine den, ignoring Muckflower trying to get her back.

"Thunderclan will provide the materials needed for your nests and dens!" Moonpetal mewed loudly for the cats to hear. The remains of Shadowclan murmured among themselves, some shooting her glares and some simply ignoring her.

"Let me help you bury your dead." The medicine cat pleaded. She went over to an older warrior and assisted him in digging a hole for fallen clanmates. The tom gave her a disbelieving look, but accepted the help.
 
A white apprentice and the deputy, Amberwound, helped tear down the medicine den as Muckflower and Cloverpaw entered. The two give the medicine cat curt nods of respect, seeming to know the tom closely.

The large tom turned to order his apprentice to fetch the last batches of traveling herbs, only to find Moonpetal has run off. He turned his head to the foggy clearing to see the white she-cat busing herself with bothering warriors.

He murmurs at Cloverpaw to get started and search the two-leg gardens. He makes his way through the fog to the digging thunderclan cat, his breath visible in the cool moist air.

“We have a job to do, separate from warriors' duties. Now come along, we have work to do.” He ordered, annoyed at having to boss a fully grown cat around. He attempted to tear the she-cat away from Swifthallow with a flick of his tail to her pelt.
 
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Moonpetal huffed and her tail was twitching in distress. She had to help these warriors. No cat should be left unburied, and she will make sure every dead cat was buried before she left for her own territory. Maybe it wasn't proper etiquette for a medicine cat, but nor was a clan leader begging for help from other clans.

"Cats need to be buried. I would be useless helping you with herbs." Moonpetal mewed in a dismissing tone, trying not to notice how the brown tom narrowed his eyes at her. Hopefully, he wouldn't drag her back to the medicine den.
 
“You’re intruding, like every Thunderclan cat you think your presence is a blessing. Have you ever thought that maybe we would want a moment alone?” He scolded as he would a kit, his face souring the more he spoke. His tail flicked in impatient, angry at seeing such a disqualified healer.

The older darker brown Tom seemed to shuffle away from Moonpetal, the whole situation making him uncomfortable. Swifthallow didn’t say anything directly but seemed to agree with Muckflower, his eyes avoiding the she-cat facing the corpse instead. The tom lovingly petted the fur of the gray cat he was burying.

“Now stop being full of yourself and get to work. We’re gathering sorrel, daisy, chamomile, and burnet.” Muckflower huffed the information, his annoyance coming from him in hot breaths.
 
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Moonpetal hung her head and told herself to get her emotions in check. Cats died. Rest of the forest life goes on. End of story. No need to get emotional about it, she should just ignore her own emotions and focus on what she has to do. What she had to do is help Muckflower prepare herbs.

Blinking an apology to the grieving tom, Moonpetal turned away and stalked to the medicine den. She started sorting herbs to make identical piles with the ones Muckflower already started. Focused on the task, she didn't notice when a tail lightly brushed over her back.
 

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