tainted line - chapter thirteen

The heated conversations within the camp kept the apprentice from actually calming down, and she had more than once been snapped at by the gray tabby she-cat who was determined to prod at every inch of her leg as if to be sure the injury was only in one spot. Skypaw didn't mention it, but she was hurting all over. But to be honest, that might have been a given.

"Brindlestar isn't happy about this," the she-cat mumbled, reaching behind her to grab a root that was wedged in a secure spot. Skypaw was surprised when she turned to address her. "You are very lucky that our warriors took pity on you. You've already seen our predicament—bringing in other cats is not helping in the slightest."

"I appreciate your show of compassion," Skypaw replied through gritted teeth, the words coming out politely yet holding every bit of tension that she felt.

"Yes, yes…" she replied, shaking her head as she pulled at the roots once more. "I am prepared to handle an injury, but the things I am lacking are the herbs to help it actually heal. Swallowtuft went out searching for herbs this morning…"

"Swallowtuft…?" Skypaw echoed, prompting her to explain.

"Our medicine cat," she replied without skipping a beat, finally managing to pull the root from its spot.

"Wait…" the apprentice paused, confused. "…You mean you're not the medicine cat?"

"Medicine cat apprentice," the tabby corrected. "Swallowtuft is my mentor."

Skypaw was stumped. She had seen two she-cats sitting with Bristlefur at the gatherings, but never managed to catch either of their names before Adderstrike mentioning them earlier. Truthfully, from how experienced this she-cat was, it seemed like an easy mistake to think that she was the one and only medicine cat of the Clan.

"…Sorry," the she-cat murmured, turning her head away to focus on the other cats within the camp. She couldn't see Brackenpaw, but she assumed he was close enough that if she were to call him, he would come. He was almost always the first to the scene when anything happened.

For the most part, the young apprentice ignored Perchcloud as she gathered together the herbs she had managed to find given the circumstances, but when the she-cat let out a frustrated grunt, Skypaw's ears pricked in curiosity.

Unsure of whether or not the she-cat still held hostile feelings towards her, Skypaw proceeded with caution. "What's wrong?" she asked slowly.

"I don't have anything that can help your wound right now. Keeping pressure off of it helps, but rest can only do so much." The she-cat was suddenly moving past her and out of the makeshift den, leaving the confused she-cat to only watch. Before Skypaw could even open her mouth to question her, Perchcloud looked back. "I need to go out and see if I can find any herbs that could help. Or at the least, see if I can find Swallowtuft."

She didn't waste another moment, and was already gone by the time Skypaw thought of saying something. Her blue eyes were wide as she tried to acknowledge the speed of which things were happening, but thankfully she wasn't left to figure it out herself. Not a heartbeat after she heard Perchcloud's pawsteps fade away, another set grew louder and announced their presence in the den.

"You look great," Skypaw commented, noting at the marbled tabby's soaked fur.

"I try," Brackenpaw replied dryly, shaking out his pelt and managing to hit Skypaw with the few droplets that flew her way. Her expression expressed her distaste, but the tom paid it no heed as he settled down beside her.

"I saw Perchcloud leaving camp in a hurry—I thought maybe something had happened. Why was she in such a rush?" he asked.

So that was her name, Skypaw thought to herself, sighing. "She said she doesn't have the herbs to help me. She went out to see if she could find some. Didn't really give me much of a choice but to sit tight."

"You'd kind of have to do that anyway," Brackenpaw laughed, tipping his head comically. "You've never managed to bang yourself up this much. Usually it's Snowpaw that's in the dirt."

"Snowpaw?" Skypaw repeated.

"Yeah, Quickbreeze doesn't go easy on him when we're training." Brackenpaw took a moment to groom his side before continuing. "Occasionally Duskleap would join her and we'd have a joint training session. From the looks of him, he's been thrown around quite a bit."

"She hasn't… hurt him, has she?" Skypaw inquired, her voice tense.

"No, not bad," he reassured her, shaking his head. "Quickbreeze can be a bit strict, but their training is fairly harmless. The dirt will scratch you more than her claws," he chuckled.

The two were content to sit in silence, as neither was too concerned about filling the space with idle conversation. If one wanted to say something, they would say it without any hesitation. Skypaw wasn't normally prone to speaking her every thought, but Brackenpaw was open enough that even the most personal things can be spoken about at the appropriate time. As expected, he was the first to speak.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, surprising her. Such a comment would normally be paired with a grin and a laugh, but his gaze was steady and voice even as he faced her. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to say, but he seemed to realize that and continued. "Fighting rogues is one thing. So is chasing off foxes…" he trailed off, and Skypaw had to lean in closer to hear. "…This time was different."

"It definitely felt different…" Skypaw murmured. "Claws are awfully different from water."

"I wanted to help you. I did," he said suddenly, and it was impossible to miss the guilt in his voice, however much he might try and hide it. "Mosspaw got ahead of me and I saw him jump into the river. WillowClan cats can swim, but I didn't think he'd have a chance, either."

"The odds weren't high when you consider the circumstances," she pointed out.

"Don't you think I know that already?" he snapped, although it was hard to pinpoint if he was more impatient or emotional. "I didn't think you'd get out of this alive. When Mosspaw jumped in after you, I debated whether or not I should, too."

Skypaw felt a chill run down her spine at the memory. Water everywhere—in her mouth, her nose, dragging her down into the depths. In that moment she couldn't be more sure of her response. "You were right not to," she told him sternly, earning herself a hard stare. "It wouldn't have been worth risking your life, too. I… felt it," she tried to explain, although she felt the struggle of recalling the memory just as much as actually experiencing it. "…I didn't know what panic felt like before then."

"I thought you were dead," Brackenpaw said, pushing his muzzle into her shoulder. Despite the height difference that caused her to lean away slightly, she didn't try and push him away or reassure him with false comforts. "When Mosspaw pulled you out of the water, you weren't breathing… he said you could come back, but we both knew there was a chance that you wouldn't. Not knowing was what killed me."

"But you know now," Skypaw reminded him. His concerns were worrying to her; guilt and regret were some of the strongest feelings, and from how he was speaking, he was starting to let it consume him. "It wasn't your fault and there wasn't anything you could have done to change what happened. Neither could Snowpaw, or Jaggedclaw… accidents happen."

"Accidents that almost get you killed?" Brackenpaw laughed dryly, pulling away to meet her gaze. "I don't think I consider that an accident."

"What do you mean?" Skypaw asked, feeling even greater confusion. His focus on the conversation was changing so quickly, she felt like she couldn't keep up.

"When Whitepaw ate those deathberries—that was an accident. None of you knew what it was or what it could do. We were all young, all mouse-brains… we made mistakes. We keep risking our lives, and we end up getting hurt. It could have been anyone else, but it was you," he said, a small growl escaping from him. "And if Mosspaw hadn't been there, you would have been dead. All because I couldn't do what I was supposed to do when a Clanmate… when a friend, was in need."

"Brackenpaw, you need to stop," Skypaw said, shuffling in her makeshift nest to get a better look at him. "There was nothing you could have done besides get yourself killed. That wouldn't have helped anyone, either."

"Mosspaw didn't hesitate, though," Brackenpaw said, completely glossing over her entire point. "When he and the rest of his patrol caught up to ours, he didn't hesitate. He wasn't afraid of what could happen to him."

"You don't know that," Skypaw interrupted. "Sometimes cats do things—mouse-brained things—without thinking it through first. It has nothing to do with fear. Thankfully you aren't one of those cats."

"Thankfully, Mosspaw is," the tom snapped. "That cat saved your life. I can't say I like him—StarClan's kits, I can barely tolerate him. But he did what had to be done and he didn't stop to think about it. I don't know what he said to you, but I already thanked him."

You don't want to know what he said to me… She refrained from speaking about his subtle threat, but it still remained in the back of her mind. "…I thanked him, too," she said, choosing her words carefully. But she wasn't good at forcing words—most of what she was saying came out as fake. "I think he's… a good cat. If you get past his ego, I think."

"That's where our differences lie," Brackenpaw suddenly said, and she looked at him, confused. He didn't say anything for a few heartbeats, and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to say more, but he soon elaborated. "He's… not normal."

"Normal?" Skypaw echoed. "Brackenpaw, I don't think anyone is truly normal."

"That's not what I mean," he objected with a shake of his head. The marbled tabby looked caught in his own thoughts, and seemed to have trouble saying what was on his mind. "…I told you that I thanked him, that I am beyond grateful to him, but I know in my heart that something is… off. I don't trust him. From the first time I met him at a gathering, I thought he was just stuck-up. It wasn't until now that I realized that something wasn't right."

"Just because he saved me?" the white and silver tabby questioned.

The tom explained, "I was with you at the last gathering you went to. I'm sure you remember Mosspaw interrupting our conversation." It took Skypaw a moment, but she could recall when the brown tabby joined in their conversation. Unsurprisingly, she couldn't remember as much as Brackenpaw, but there were some details that she found it hard to believe he remembered. "…He looked at you. He didn't look away. He didn't even try and argue with Whitepaw after that."

"So… what?" she asked. "You think he likes me? I highly doubt it. We've barely spoken more than a few words to each other."

"I don't think it's that," Brackenpaw said, and Skypaw was surprised when he pushed his muzzle against her shoulder once more. "But I refuse to believe that he dove into that river because of a change of heart. It was no selfless act. There's just… something."

There was a long pause where neither of them said anything to one another. They were both very still, and it was out of character that Skypaw began to grow uncomfortable with the silence. His words began to weigh down on her, prompting her to try and remember every interaction she ever had with Mosspaw—which was hard enough, considering their interactions were few and far apart. There wasn't much for her to see besides arrogance, but as she recalled the few times they spoke, she began to wonder if there was truth to Brackenpaw's words.

Suddenly, she wondered if she had just missed it the first time. She thought of herself as being fairly observant, but it seemed like she had missed a seemingly crucial part that someone else had caught. How was she supposed to tell him that he was wrong and that, despite his observations, it was probably nothing?

"I won't say I don't believe you," Skypaw started, torn between what to say. The only time she had felt uneasy around the tom was when they stood together after arriving at the camp. They had been alone… and that was when his mere presence set her fur on end. It couldn't have been a coincidence. "But I do trust you," she assured him.

It wouldn't have been unlike Brackenpaw to say more on the topic, but her small reassurances seemed to appease him enough to let it go. The lack of a response wasn't unnoticeable, but she was more focused on the fact that he still hadn't moved away from resting his muzzle against her shoulder.

The size difference between them had grown within the past few moons, which truly wasn't a surprise when considering Brackenpaw's larger size, but it was still a strange thing to actually take a moment to observe how much each of them had grown—not just physically, but mentally as well.

Their young minds were easily influenced, and they took every opportunity to learn what they could. But as they grew older, especially over the past few moons, their true colors were starting to shine. For some, this could be a positive development. For others… they were not so easily changed.

Brackenpaw's walls were starting to crack, and she couldn't help but think it was the first time she had ever really seen him.


Her thoughts were muddled and unaware of her surroundings as a voice calling out grew stronger. She couldn't for the life of her remember where she was or what was going on. The moss under her felt damp and unfamiliar, and the warm body beside her was definitely not her mother or Snowpaw. She lifted her head in confusion, looking around to try and pinpoint the voice, and soon it hit her: she was in WillowClan's makeshift cat, and the cat sleeping beside her was Brackenpaw.

"Perchcloud!" the voice called out, and now that her eyes were open and she was aware of where she was, it was clear to see who they were calling for.

She could feel the marbled tabby shifting beside her, probably going through the same initial thoughts as she had. By now, the voice—decidedly female—had grown close enough to pinpoint their location, and she almost jumped in surprise when a tall, gray she-cat with shaggy fur approached them. From the look on her face, however, it wasn't hard to see that she was less than interested in them.

"Where is Perchcloud? We need her now!"

The urgency in her voice wasn't lost on either of them, and while Brackenpaw was still a bit lost, Skypaw was willing to respond. "She went out looking for herbs. What's going on?"

Skypaw noticed her momentary hesitation, which might have been understandable since they were essentially strangers, but the she-cat appeared to get over it quickly. "Rippleheart is kitting—it's her first time."

"Her… first time?" Skypaw swallowed.

"Did Perchcloud say when she'd be back?" Brackenpaw spoke up, directing his question at Skypaw, who shook her head with a blank stare. She could now see how leaving the Clan without a medicine cat could negatively affect them—even worse, there was a queen who needed a medicine cat more than anything.

The gray she-cat let out a quick sigh, but didn't waste any more time with questions. "We need to do what we can. Sorry to say, but it looks that that nest would be better use for a cat about to have kits."

It didn't take more than a heartbeat for Skypaw to realize that the she-cat was referring to the nest she was currently settled in, and there was no doubt that the statement was more of a command than anything.

"She can't move far," Brackenpaw commented.

"Neither can Rippleheart," the she-cat replied. "Look, I need both of you to work with me. I have to help Rippleheart. This is the driest spot in the camp since water started getting into the nursery, and StarClan knows having kits without a medicine cat is hard enough."

"I get it," Skypaw replied through gritted teeth as she struggled to bring herself to her paws. It wasn't a struggle to keep the weight off of her injured pay, but the damp moss didn't help her joints and she found it hard to stretch them out after being stationary for so long. "Are you going to be able to help her?"

"I've had kits of my own," she said, beginning to straighten out the nest to give the queen enough room. "They're back with Rippleheart. I need to keep them out of the way, though. We'd have enough kits without another pair trampling around the den."

"Is there anything we can do?" Brackenpaw asked, and Skypaw was grateful to him for speaking her thoughts.

"Yes, there is," the she-cat responded, finishing off the nest preparations. "I need you to watch my two kits—Morningkit and Puddlekit."

Skypaw and Brackenpaw reacted similarly, with surprised glances moving from each other back to the she-cat. "You want us to watch your kits?" Skypaw asked.

"I want you to watch my kits," the queen snapped impatiently, finally standing up to address them but only making direct eye contact with Skypaw. "They know what's happening, but aren't entirely smart enough to keep their distance and stay out of trouble. You keep them occupied, and I can help Rippleheart."

"…Alright," Skypaw said, sounding a little more certain that she really was.

"You," the she-cat said, tail pointing at Brackenpaw. "Come with me. Most of the warriors are outside monitoring the flooding—we need every able paw we can find. You stay here," she finished, her line of sight connecting with Skypaw's.

Her lack of ability to do anything other than sit and wait was something that irked her to no end, but it was obvious that trying to push herself to do anything more would only prove to be a hindrance to everyone else. It was the harsh reality, and one that she didn't really want to admit to herself, but she would offer whatever help she could.

"Fernpaw!" the queen called out as they headed out of the den. "We need your help. Go see if you can find Wavepaw or Sootpaw. Let them know that Rippleheart is having her kits."

Skypaw watched the off-white tabby nod quickly, and bolt out of camp with every bit of urgency that they felt. The rain didn't seem to slow any of them down; but then again, when the situation was dire enough, it wasn't something to really focus on when there were other things to worry about.

"What's going on?"

She almost jumped at the sudden voice behind her, and didn't really calm down even after seeing who it was. Mosspaw stood behind her, his muzzle and paws caked with mud, and a brow raised in question. She wondered briefly why he was so muddy, but it didn't occur to her to ask. Brackenpaw's warning still lingered in her ears, but from the wholly innocent look he gave her, it was hard to think that her Clanmate noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"One of the queens… she said Rippleheart was having her kits," she told him, watching her tone as she did so.

"Maplestream," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Her name is Maplestream—the one who told you Rippleheart was kitting," he explained.

"Wait, you knew she started kitting?" she asked, taking note of just how he spoke. "Why did you ask, then?"

"I didn't mean 'what's going on?' as in 'what's the news?'" he said, rolling his eyes. "I meant more along the lines of, why are you hanging out over here, away from the action?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she answered slyly. "I'm waiting for Brackenpaw and Maplestream to bring Rippleheart over here; it's drier. She asked Brackenpaw and I to keep her two kits out of the way."

"She asked you?" Mosspaw huffed, shaking his head in annoyance. "I think she would have been better off asking someone from her own Clan to watch her own kits. I could have done it—they're my family."

"Your family?" she echoed.

"Half-siblings," he clarified. "But it doesn't make them any less of my family. I don't care for Maplestream—never will. But she could have at least asked."

Labored cries were what brought their attention elsewhere, and they did nothing but watch as Maplestream and Brackenpaw balanced a black she-cat—who Skypaw assumed to be Rippleheart—between them. It was a hard thing to see, considering how thin the she-cat looked at first sight, and the only thing that really stuck out—both figuratively and literally—was her rounded belly.

"She looks half-starved," Skypaw whispered under her breath, but apparently it was still loud enough for Mosspaw to hear.

"She's been sick for days," he said, tone uncharacteristically flat. "Hasn't been able to keep anything down. We don't exactly have the resources to help her right now, as you can see."

A short nod was the only sign that she had heard him, and she willed herself to look away just so she wouldn't have to look at the pitiful sight. Now that she had noticed it, it didn't take much to see how thin some of the other WillowClan cats were. Mosspaw didn't have incredibly long fur, but it was long enough to hide any sign of emaciation from casual eyes. Now that she was actively searching for it, she could see it almost immediately.

She was finally forced to look back at the black she-cat, whose pained yowls had subsided into quick breaths and an occasional low growl. Without having to be asked, she moved off to the side to allow Maplestream and Brackenpaw to help her in, hoping that the smell of disease was only just her imagination.

Both her and the tom beside her turned their heads at the sound of tiny pawsteps, and weren't surprised when two she-kits—one a brown and white tabby and the other a pale cream color—stumbled after them, presumably to follow their mother. They were both quite a bit larger than Larksplash's kits, which led Skypaw to assume that they were at least three moons old—maybe older.

"Maplestream," the tabby kit called. "We want to see the new kits!"

"Hush up," Mosspaw grunted, sticking out a paw to keep them from following the three cats into the "den." From the way they looked at him, it was obvious that they knew him well, which was only proven further by the way they spoke to him.

"Mosspaw, we want to see," the cream kit pushed. "Rippleheart told us a moon ago that we'd be able to see them."

"Well that was then," Mosspaw said passively, pulling his paw away. "This is now. Rippleheart is busy and doesn't need either of you bothering her. If either of you hope to become apprentices I would learn to do what you're told."

Both kits looked down at his rebuke, but it was obvious enough that there was also some annoyance that passed between the sisters at having to be told off by another cat. Skypaw actually thought that they might push the issue, but was surprised when instead, they looked up at her with curiosity.

"Who are you?" the tabby asked, taking a small sniff. "You smell different. Really weird… you're not from our Clan."

Skypaw didn't say anything at first, fully expecting and even hoping that Mosspaw would explain for her, but in a turn of events, he actually stayed quiet this time around. Deciding that it was best to just answer the question, she sighed. "I'm from AspenClan," she said. "My name is Skypaw."

A loud cry pulled all of them away from their distraction, and the apprentice wanted nothing more than to cover her ears and pretend she was somewhere else. She couldn't help but be reminded of her mother's own outbursts of pain when Bristlefur attempted to treat the wounds she had received from the fox. It was something she hoped to never be a witness to again.

She had been there for her mother then, but Hailcry seemed to realize why Skypaw kept a good distance between herself and the medicine den. This time was very different, as she felt like she should be helping more, rather than hang back like she had when her mother was injured. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"Don't pass out on me." The harsh voice was accompanied by a not-so-gentle nudge to the side, but she couldn't even bring herself to glare at Mosspaw—or at least, put any effort into looking intimidating.

"Mosspaw!" They both lifted their heads at the sound of Maplestream. "Mosspaw, we need your help."

"I'm watching your kits at the moment," he responded, and Skypaw cocked a brow at how indifferent he sounded. She waited with a held breath to see if he would eventually give in, but he kept his attention on the two kits and kept his mouth shut.

"Mouse-dung!" Skypaw cringed at the angered and frustrated tone, but she felt even more anxious when Maplestream didn't say anything more.

Mosspaw gave her little more than a mere glance as she turned around, limping the few rabbit-lengths to the overhang and ducking under, taking note of Maplestream's form blocking any sight she had of Rippleheart. From her pained mews, however, it wasn't hard to assume what state she was in.

Maplestream looked busy enough attempting to help the black queen, which made it surprising that she was able to tell when Skypaw entered the vicinity.

"It's nice that some cat was willing to help," she muttered under her breath, though Skypaw knew it was meant to be heard by a dark tabby tom.

"Hey, hey!" Skypaw's head swung back, eyes glued to the two kits that skipped right past the den and scampered towards the entrance to the camp, Mosspaw not far behind. Morningkit led the way, and with her short legs, wasn't able to get far before the older tom pulled in front of her. "Who is that? I don't know them!" she squeaked.

Skypaw caught the scent before she saw them, and even Maplestream seemed to be caught off-guard as well. She felt Brackenpaw brush up beside her, but she couldn't take her eyes away from the camp entrance as, one after another, her Clanmates filed into the camp.

She was so caught up in her own surprise that she didn't realize that Brackenpaw was nudging her, trying to get her attention. Following his gaze, she saw Brindlestar stepping out of his den, accompanied by Adderstrike who lent him a shoulder to lean on. It was a subtle act, but one that didn't go unnoticed. It didn't take much to see that the WillowClan leader was in just as bad a shape—maybe worse—as his Clanmates.

Her eyes darted to the opposite end of the camp, and immediately sought out her brother and friends. Wrenpaw and Whitepaw stood together off to the side, and looked around in confusion for a few heartbeats before they spotted her and Brackenpaw. Whitepaw grinned from ear to ear, and made a move to approach, but Wrenpaw quickly held a paw out to stop her.

Skypaw understood her hesitance, and it seemed like the rest of the Clan felt the shift in the mood as well. Silentstar approached slowly and carefully, as if scared to make the wrong move. When he stood across from Brindlestar, she couldn't help but notice that, despite Brindlestar's less than healthy appearance, he still stood taller than her own leader.

The only sound she could make out was Rippleheart's pants behind her as Maplestream tried to calm her, but even they seemed to feel the tenseness of the situation. It was hard to miss. When one of the leaders finally spoke, it didn't seem to break it, either.

"Brindlestar," Silentstar greeted politely. "One of your warriors said that she could help us. She said that you were aware of the situation."

"That your territory is flooded?" Brindlestar asked. "Yes, I am aware. I assume you are also aware that this is obviously not our camp."

"Yes," Silentstar said, dipping his head. "My Clan isn't a threat to yours—not at the moment. Our camp didn't get flooded out completely, but it wasn't safe to stay there," he explained.

Skypaw could sense the hesitance in her leader—it wasn't a common thing to see. His words were chosen carefully, and without knowing it, Skypaw held her breath. "We are willing to help you if you would give us shelter for the time being."

A flash of white caught her eye, and Skypaw noticed Hailcry and Snowpaw working their way to the front of the group, whereas Foxpaw moved to join Wrenpaw and Whitepaw. Her back was arched and her movements skittish, as with everyone else's.

There was a long pause between Silentstar's request and Brindlestar's answer, but when he finally did speak, Skypaw felt the pressure sink down upon her shoulders at the implications of his words. "We will allow you to stay until the flooding has gone down. When that happens, you will return to your own camp," he said.

Skypaw knew better. This would not just be an act of kindness—no. They would have to pay them back in some way for this hospitality. They had unintentionally dug themselves into a hole that they couldn't truly escape from.

"However…" the leader's voice brought her back to the present, and she cocked her head in confusion, wondering what else would need to be said. "…Although it might not be any of my business, I think it is within my right to ask what a RavenClan apprentice is doing with your Clan."

Skypaw turned away, only then realizing just how deep the hole was.