Secrets And Choices

Prologue
A slim, dark coloured she-cat weaved her way through the tight spots between trees. Her luminous green eyes reflected moonlight back at the deep indigo sky. Hard, shining, white stars dotted up above, an almost full moon sending shafts of light down onto the grassy landscape. Water from a river gurgled loudly as it rushed through the night, sending the liquid down to the lake.

A brown pelt shone in the darkness. It was the she-cat’s fur as she padded on the soft, earthy ground. It was an odd time to be out collecting herbs, especially if one of her Clanmates woke up with a severe bellyache. It had happened before, and the she-cat was sure it would happen again.

But the night was so pleasant. It was New-leaf, when the flowers start to bud and the shiny leaves start to grow back after a harsh Leaf-bare. The night wasn’t cold, or too humid. It was warm, with a few cooling breezes here and there. Pale clouds drifted above.

The forest was alive with sounds. Soft birdcalls, the skittering of mice along the ground as they scurried about looking for food, not having to worry about an unsuspected predator leaping out of nowhere to kill them. The chirping of crickets enlightened the woods with music, whilst the buzzing of other insects danced around the brown cat’s head.

The plant the young she-cat was looking for in particular was tansy, or maybe some juniper berries as well. At the start of New-leaf, some of the cats get coughs and sneezes. They never really turn into anything serious,-and they go away quickly, though they occasionally re-appear throughout the season-but it’s good to have them treated if the patient is in pain.

The she-cat stifled a yawn, and gaze a slight sneeze. Pollen was flying around the air, and it stung her eyes. Luckily, a quick breeze blew past, taking the yellow dust with it. The cat shook her drawn head and closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, she took a step forward and continued to look for the tansy.

Her paws thumped on the ground as she walked. She came to a slope and carefully put her paw forward to step down it. She began to slide down, sending up dust and small pebbles. Soil scraped against her paw pads and small, short stones sliced through them.

When she reached the bottom, she lifted up her paw. A thin stream of blood trickled from it and it stung like fury, but she gave it a good, rough lick and made a mental note to put yarrow on it when she got back to camp. She rubbed them on the springy grass to get off the last of the blood.

Out of the corner of her green eyes, she spotted a small, flowering plant. It had round, yellow blossoms and a very strong scent. Tansy! The she-cat thought, and she left towards the green leafed plant. She gently leaned down and nipped the stalks. She was doing so when she heard a voice call her name.

“Seeeeedwhisker...”

“What? Who’s there?” Seedwhisker turned around, startled, her eyes looking all around, scoping the landscape. The voice came again, but this time, it sounded closer, and more eerie. Seedwhisker backed up, her eyes wide with fear as the voice sounded a third time. “Show yourself, coward!” she shouted angrily, her voice shaking.

“I’m cooommming for youuuu,” it said. It was like a snake hiss. Smooth, yet drawn out and freaky. The fourth time, it sounded like whatever was speaking was right behind Seedwhisker. “If you’re trying to scare me, Spruceface, it’s not working!” She screamed, trembling. Her small, brown shoulders were shaking, betraying her true feelings.

She was backing up, and when her tail touched something behind her, she froze. Her heart skipped a couple beats, her breath caught in her throat, and basically all of the key working features of her body stopped for a moment. As she turned, she was greeted with large, narrowed, sinister blue eyes.

“Say goodbye!” shouted the voice. A horrible screeched ebbed from his mouth, and he launched forward, knocking Seedwhisker to the ground. He dug his claws into her shoulder, and Seedwhisker, paralyzed with fear, could do nothing to defend herself. She let out a shrill wail as the warm blood welled at her wounds and slid down her body, like shimmering, crimson water in the moonlight.

She screeched in agony as long teeth slid into her neck, biting down on the soft flesh. Seedwhisker’s eyes shot open in pain as she wailed. The bite felt like torture, as if venom had shot through her veins and bloodstream. The crimson liquid streamed out of her throat as the medicine cat tried to gasp for breath.

Suddenly all went quiet. Seedwhisker let out a quiet moan and then her head drooped to the side, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

After the bloody murder, the killer quietly and efficiently rolled the body across the ground and into a nearby bush, caking the corpse with dust. After that, he drew his tongue over his paw, lapping up the blood. He snatched a branch from a tree that was sweeping low to the ground, and awkwardly did his best to clean up the bloodstain. He then placed the branch over Seedwhisker and slowly started away.

Chapter One
Brindlepaw was lying in her mossy nest, stretching as morning light seeped through the den’s leaves. Her brother, Ashenpaw, was still asleep, letting out a gentle snore. Their sister, Blizzardfoot, had become a warrior earlier because of her bravery in the war between IceClan and ForestClan. Brindlepaw had tried to push away her jealousy, but it always lingered.

The grey tabby stood up, shaking away dry moss and grass. The light that poured in was warm to the touch, and it lit up and warmed her pelt as soon as it hit her fur. Her blue eyes glowed in the newly-lit den, as she scanned the inside of the bush. Her best friend, Brownpaw, lay drooling in the corner, his flank rising up and down.

She padded over to him and prodded his belly with her dainty paw. “Wake up, Brownpaw!” She shouted as she pressed down on his soft, white belly fur. Brownpaw was a heavy sleeper, and it usually took forever to get the lump of fur up from his slumber.

As Brindlepaw was trying, Ashenpaw rose from his nest and fixed his sister with a fiery, burning blue stare that could melt an iceberg. “Can’t you wake up your boyfriend more quietly?” He spat, turning, and strutting out of the den, his grey speckled tail disappearing out the small entrance.

“Salty,” Brindlepaw muttered. These days, for some reason the she-cat couldn’t explain, her brother had been more cross and rude lately. Maybe it was those hormones that their mother was telling them about, but she couldn’t be sure. The grey apprentice turned back to her work on waking up her friend, but by then she realized that just prodding him wouldn’t wake up, so she quietly slid behind the tuxedo tom and stepped on his fluffy tail.

That did the trick.

Brownpaw leaped up with a loud ‘ouch’ and hit the ground with an abrupt thumping noise. His bright amber eyes whipped back to Brindlepaw. “Why’d you wake me up?!” he screamed in outrage, stamping his white paw on the ground. “I was having the best dream! You and I had kits, and they...” he trailed off as Brindlepaw collapsed to the ground in laughter, fighting to get enough oxygen in her lungs. “

O-ohmyStarC-clan!” she chuckled. “T-take it slow, b-big guy!” Brownpaw was laughing too.

“Come on, I can’t help what I dream!” he protested, his white pointed tail twitching. He stretched open his mouth wide and heaved a giant yawn. “So,” he continued. “Why did you wake me up?”

Brindlepaw stood up, dusting some dirt of her brindled pelt. He stretched, arching her back in the air and yawned. “Duh, we have chores.” She paused for a moment, and then brought her face so she was nose to nose, her bright, icy blue eyes burning into his. “Did you seriously forget?” she asked, her breath icy. “It’s our warrior ceremony today, dummy!”

The brown and white tom’s eyes widened. His pupils grew dilated as he held her gaze. He then brought his white paw up to his head and pretended to slap himself. “Oh!!!! That’s right!!” he exclaimed as he collapsed into giggles. Brindlepaw chuckled. Brownpaw was forgetful, clumsy, and every quality you would want in a best friend... and crush. When the grey tabby thought of this, she quickly shook away the thought. Besides, it was weird to crush on your best friend, who you’ve gone through everything with! Death, sadness, happiness, birth...

As this came to her, she started thinking about why she and Brownpaw were so close anyway...

''The den was dark. The faint scent of milk drifted through the air as Brindlekit was snug in her nest, pressed against her mother’s pale silver belly. Her siblings, Blizzardkit and Ashenkit, had their eyes shut tight as their flanks rose up and down rhythmically. But something was keeping Brindlekit awake. She was tossing and turning in her sleep, and her dreams were dark and filled with screams.''

''So she blinked open her large blue eyes and quietly stood up. Ivyclaw had her tail tightly coiled around her kits, but the grey tabby she-kit managed to find her way out. A cool breeze rushed towards her as she stepped near the entrance to the nursery. She poked her head out and let the night air flatten her face. The sky was a vivid, dark indigo colour, and the moon glowed bright, shining down on the grassy floor. It was quiet. Everything was silent but a lone cricket.''

''She suddenly heard something leap up behind her and start to scream. She recognized the voice. She spun around so quickly that it hurt her neck, and sure enough, Brownkit, one of her denmates, was standing up suddenly, screaming so loud Brindlekit was sure it would wake up the Clan. The tom-kit’s eyes were wide with fear, his body shaking, and his fur on its end.''

''“What’s wrong?” cried Brindlekit, rushing over, alarmed. The grey she-cat’s tail was up in the air, poofed up as Ivyclaw raised her head, Ashenkit mewling in annoyance. The she-cat slowly got up, leaving her kit in the nest. She padded over to the nest, gently pushing Brownkit away.''

“Let me see," Ivyclaw mewed.

''“NO!” Brownkit screamed, trying to push past the she-cat. Ivyclaw held him back firmly as he wailed in distress, tears flowing down his face. Brindlekit felt torn. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew it was enough to upset the kit. She awkwardly walked over and started to calm Brownkit, stroking her tail down his back.''

''Brownkit looked at her, his eyes sad, but gratitude sparkled in them. Brindlekit had given him a small smile, and it was the start of their new friendship.''

What had happened that fateful night they became friends was the Brownpaw had woken up because he felt cold. He looked at his mother, who wasn’t breathing, and was stiff and cold. Seedwhisker had told them that she died in her sleep from unknown causes.

Brindlepaw brushed up against the tom. “Come on, let’s go!”

Brownpaw tipped his head and purred at his best friend, returning her gesture.”I’m in!”

The two of them burst out of the den, leaving Swirledpaw in the dust. The sky was pale blue, the Sun slowly rising from behind the mountains. Orange and magenta clouds flanked the glowing ball of light, dark indigo stretching up from the bottom. Brindlepaw’s heart leaped. Today was going to be a good day.

“You two!” It was Mistyrain’s voice, calling them from the other side of camp. Her yellow eyes sparkled in the dawn light. Next to her was her brother, Frozenfoot, and besides being siblings, the two of them were also Brindlepaw and Brownpaw’s mentors.

The apprentices trotted over to them, their tails held high, heads held up in pride. Mistyrain met them, however, with a disapproving look.

“Look at you!” the she-cat exclaimed, stepping forward to brush bits of moss out of Brindlepaw’s fur. “Your warrior ceremony will be any minute now, and---” Mistyrain was cut off by the sound of another cat’s voice ringing through ForestClan’s camp.

“All cats skilled enough to climb a tree gather for a Clan meeting.” Fawnstar’s voice was soft yet powerful, her dark paws gripped to the moss covered Highstone. Blearily, some cats stumbled out of their dens, shrinking away at the bright, dawn light. Others calmly walked over and sat in the great shadow of the Highstone, flicking their tails in anticipation.

“Quick!” Mistyrain hissed urgently. “Clean yourselves up!” Frozenfoot snickered as the ceremony began. Brownpaw shrugged as he rushed over to beside the Highstone. Giggling at the glare Mistyrain gave her brother, she dashed over to join her friend.

“We’re gathered here today to promote two of our apprentices to warriors,” Fawnstar meowed, casting a fond glance at Brindlepaw and Brownpaw. She cleared her throat. Brownpaw was eagerly hopping up and down, Brindlepaw standing calmly beside him.

“I, Fawnstar, leader of ForestClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices. They have trained hard and long to understand the ways of your code, and I commend them a warrior in their turn.” The speckled she-cat looked down at the two apprentices.

Brownpaw’s eyes gleamed with ambition. Fawnstar leapt down from the stone gracefully to stand in front of them. Both stepped back.

“Brownpaw, Brindlepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, to protect and defend the Clan, even at the cost of your very lives?”

“Yes!” Brownpaw exclaimed immediately, “I do.” Brindlepaw dipped her head and meowed, “I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Brownpaw, from this moment forth, you shall be known as Brownfire,” Fawnstar named him. She paused as her licked her shoulder. “We thank you for your lightheartedness and optimism, and we welcome you as a full member of ForestClan.” The leader then turned to Brindlepaw, blue eyes warm.

“Brindlepaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Brindle-” she was cut off by a blur of dark ginger fur bursting into camp, followed closely by a dark and light mottled tom. The two crashed into a heap. Heads turned. Fawnstar tipped her head quizzically, looking at them.

Rowanscar stood up, his legs shaking. His dark blue eyes were clouded with fear as he tried to take a confident stance. “What’s wrong, Rowanscar?” Sycamorebranch asked, concern lighting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” the deputy repeated, sounding more forceful.

Rowanscar struggled to catch his breath while Muddypelt stood up, shaking out his brown pelt, eyes glittering with terror. Everyone was in a daze, confused at what they were so worked up over. Then they saw it.

Palelight strode into camp carrying something-something too big to be an oversized rabbit. The whole Clan caught their breath. Brindlepaw’s eyes widened, her chest freezing, tail sticking straight up in the air. Palelight dropped what she was holding in her jaws, nudging it forward. A cat’s body, splayed out over the dusty ground of camp. Coat matted with blood, bearing wounds, missing patches of fur, and a messy pelt. Normally dark eyes milky and glazed over. Something in Brindlepaw’s mind clicked as she exchanged a glance with Brownpaw. She knew who it was.

Rowanscar swallowed and raised his voice to state the obvious:

“Seedwhisker is dead!”

Chapter Two
An uproar of murmurs and shouts quickly rampaged through the cats gathered around. Alarmed, Fawnstar quickly paced over to Seedwhisker’s still body, gazing down at it with wide eyes. Her gaze flashed to Rowanscar, who was trembling. Palelight came and sat beside her leader.

“How did this happen?” Fawnstar demanded, but a shaking Brindlepaw barely heard the speckled she-cat. She was frozen stiff, heart skipping beats. Her sky blue eyes were wide in disbelief, pupils narrowed into tiny slits. She stared straight forward through the crowd screaming cats, quickly manoeuvring around each other to steal a glance at their dead medicine cat.

Brownfire slowly turned to her. “Brindlepaw?” he asked, seeing his best friend straightened up tall, eyes glassy. He prodded her shoulder, hard. “Brindlepaw!” he repeated, louder and more forceful. His fiery amber eyes shone with worry.

Brindlepaw shuddered and swallowed, whipping her head towards him. “What!” she screeched, her voice high-pitched. Brownfire stepped back from her, one paw lifted. His expression was one of fear for a quick heartbeat, before fading into one of concern.

He nodded towards Seedwhisker. “Let’s go see what’s up.” Without waiting for a reply, the tom swiftly padded towards the quickly growing group of cats surrounding the body.

The grey tabby narrowed her eyes. “Did becoming a warrior suddenly make you Mister Mature?” she asked sarcastically, ignoring Brownfire as he turned to roll his eyes at her. Giggling to herself, the apprentice picked up her pace and followed her friend.

Murmurs circulated the group of cats.

“How did she die?”

“When did she die?”

“Who’s going to be our medicine cat now?”

But when Brindlepaw had pushed through the crowd and got a decent look at Seedwhisker’s body, she thought that it was pretty obvious how the young molly died. The tabby was fighting against others to keep her view of the medicine cat.

Deep clawmarks marred her body, several in different locations. Her green eyes were frozen open, never again to close. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the scratches were much too small to belong to a predator like a badger or fox. There was a sickening jolt to her heart when she realized that the markings could’ve been carved from her own claws.

Unsheathing them, she looked at Brownfire, who shared a glance of fear with her. Brindlepaw looked around for someone other than Brownfire to console in, but Blizzardfoot was on the other side of Seedwhisker and she didn’t see Ashenpaw anywhere. Restlessly, her gaze darted back and forth in search of him, but alas, he was nowhere to be found.

Rowanscar was telling an elongated story on Seedwhisker’s death. “... We found her in a bush, under a branch. She was caked with blood,” he told Fawnstar, horrified.

Fawnstar’s face was a mixture of confusion and fear as she studied the marks in the young she-cat’s pelt. Small bite marks in her throat. Wounds that were caused by claws raking down her sides. Her gaze flickered between the body, Rowanscar, and the crowd of cats demanding questions she couldn’t answer.

A lump formed in Brindlepaw’s throat. Brownfire’s tail had wrapped itself protectively around her body, amber eyes narrowed in both suspicion and horror, his expression puzzled.

Brindlepaw’s stomach turned. Who would be their new medicine cat? Maybe she could help... she knew a little about herbs. The she-cat looked at her best friend. “What are we going to do?” she asked, hoping he had the answers she did not. “Our medicine cat is dead.”

Before Brownfire could answer, Sycamorebranch shouldered his way to the front. Brindlepaw stepped back as he collided with her. The brown and white tom looked down at the body before glaring at his leader.

“I don’t know how she died, but first things first; we must get a new medicine cat.” The deputy said loudly. Immediately, murmurs made their way through the crowd. Cats whispered to each other, but Brindlepaw couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Suddenly, everything hit her in a wave of confusion. She knew what she had to do. Heart racing, she felt her legs start to tremble. Then she opened her mouth and let out what she wanted to be a confident statement, but was instead a shrill squeak.

“I’ll do it.”

The cats fell dead silent. Brindlepaw shrank down, growing hot as gazes all gazes whipped towards her. Brownfire’s eyes were wide in awe, pupils slits in shock. Suddenly, she wondered if she had made a horrible mistake. Anxiety sat like a rock in her gut, but she knew that she was doing the right thing... wasn’t she?

The silence was broken when Fawnstar took a small step closer to the apprentice, eyes shining with disbelief. “Brindlepaw?” she asked, voice airy. “Are you sure?” Even though she wasn’t so sure anymore, unease creeping into her stomach, something possessed Brindlepaw to say “yes. I will be ForestClan’s new medicine cat.” She tried to stand up straight, but her legs crumpled beneath her once again.

There was a pause. “Alright...” she started, sounding unsure. Sycamorebranch’s eyes were narrowed, as were most of the crowds. Worry was alight in the eyes of the crowd, but some shone with relief that they weren’t going to be left all alone without someone to treat their wounds.

“I guess....” Fawnstar began. “Even though you’ve chosen a different path, I must finish the ceremony. Brindlepaw, you shall be known as Brindlefrost. We thank you for your integrity and bravery, and we welcome you as a member of ForestClan.”

Brindlefrost flinched after being called a simple member instead of a full one, and that she knew that medicine cats weren’t given that ceremony. She felt empty inside, like she had made a terrible error. The Clan broke apart, and the tabby tried to ignore the looks that were shot her way. Fawnstar and Sycamorebranch were discussing how she would be trained in hushed voices. She headed to the medicine cat den, trying not to look at Seedwhisker’s body, splayed out on the ground. Brownfire, of course, ran up to her. She tried to veer around him, but he blocked her path.

“What the heck was that?!” The tom exclaimed. Not able to meet his gaze, Brindlefrost looked away in shame. “Why did you throw away your own life just like that?!” he hissed.

“I didn’t throw away my own life! I am doing something no one else had the courage to!” Brindlefrost retorted, swishing her tail. Brownfire stepped back, eyes angry.

“Someone else would’ve!” he hissed furiously. “My best friend didn’t have to downgrade to a medicine cat!” Bitter betrayal dripped from his mouth as he continued. Brindlefrost took every word he said to heart; he could’ve just stabbed her in the chest. It would’ve been easier.

“I imagined us together. Romping through the forest without a care in the world. I wanted us to be mates, have beautiful, perfect kits, and grow old together.” His eyes were narrowed. “Now that’s not going to happen.” His growl was low and rumbled in his throat. “I thought you were different.”

The tom lashed his tail. Brindlefrost felt like something had tore out her heart as she watched him walk away. Maybe the same thing that made her choose the medicine cat path. Focusing on the ground, she continued towards the medicine cat den, guilt flooding her body.

“I am different,” she whispered. “I am different...”

Chapter Three
Fawnstar had decided to bring in a medicine cat from a different Clan to teach Brindlefrost about how to be a medicine cat. The one who agreed was Tulipheart, a gingerish she-cat with pale green eyes. She was older and had an apprentice, Dawnflight, who was more than ready to take over his mentor’s lead of absence.

The DustClan medicine cat had arrived early the next morning, after Seedwhisker’s body had been purified with rosemary and lavender, and properly buried in solemn silence. Her eyes were half closed as she walked in on a sleeping Brindlefrost. She prodded the tabby with her paw. “Wake up.”

Brindlefrost stirred and forced herself to awake. When her eyes opened and stared bleary-eyed into the pale gaze of an older she-cat. Panic seized her heart for a quick moment before recognizing the face of the yellow-ginger she-cat. Hot with embarrassment, she quickly sat up.

“Tulipheart!” she greeted, extending her tail in welcome. The she-cat threw her a strange look, while Brindlefrost brought back her tail sheepishly. “Thanks for coming to train me.”

“You’re brave, you know that?” Tulipheart said, staring into the other cat’s eyes. Her gaze didn’t waver, and Brindlefrost tried with all her might not to drop hers. “There’s not many cats out there who would give up the prospect of fighting for their Clan and having a mate to become a medicine cat,” she continued in a thick accent.

Brindlefrost shrugged, pushing away the thought of Brownfire. “My Clans need a medicine cat. I can’t give them kits, but I can give them service.”

Tulipheart had retreated to the back of the den to scope out their herb storage when she craned her neck to smile at the grey tabby. “You’re already getting wise,” she murmured, continuing to look for herbs.

While Brindlefrost watched the she-cat pull out different leaves and flowers for a lesson, she had realization hit her once again like icy water. She had left life as she knew it to pursue a career she knew nothing of. She swallowed and shuddered. Though there were the two of them there, the cave felt eerily empty as shadows danced on the walls. She could still feel Seedwhisker’s presence.

“Come back here,” Tulipheart called and indicated a pile of herbs. A shaft of sunlight shone brightly down on the leaves. Brindlefrost padded over to the medicine cat and sat down, feeling excitement rise up in her, almost eliminating the cold feeling of knowing her best friend didn’t like her anymore.

“Hmm?” she asked, sweeping her gaze over the herbs.

Tulipheart pushed one closer to Brindlefrost. It was a stem with thin, soft looking leaves and pale purple flowers. A sweet scent wafted up from it. “This is lavender,” she said, looking at the tabby. “Good for fever, helpful for restless kits who are trying to fall asleep.”

Brindlefrost nodded as Tulipheart went over different types of herbs. “Cobwebs for bleeding,” she said as she pushed a clump of white towards her. “Marigold and dried oak leaf stop infections.” Brindlefrost’s head was spinning, not recognizing all these foreign leaves. How was she supposed to remember all of these? She had made a horrible mistake.

“Stop,” Brindlefrost spluttered. Tulipheart looked at her weirdly, her paw resting on a flowering plant. “I-I don’t understand. You’re going too fast.”

There was a pause as Tulipheart searched her eyes carefully. Shyly, Brindlefrost shrank down. Was she even fit to be a medicine cat? Once again, the possibility that she had made an awful mistake came back to her. Was Brownfire right? Had she thrown away her life? “I..I’ll never remember all of these...” she added.

But Tulipheart just looked at her. “Do you think I’m that stupid?” she asked. Before Brindlefrost could reply, she continued on. “Do you think I’m gonna teach you about the herbs once, and then leave you on your own?” the yellowish she-cat shook her head. “Honey, I never would’ve trained Slimpaw or Dawnflight as well as I did if I followed that rule.”

She pushed the herb that was under her paw forwards. “Coltsfoot. Good for cats who are having trouble breathing.” Brindlefrost felt as if she might need some coltsfoot. Her breathing was heavy as she analyzed each herb carefully, marking numbers in the ground with her claws, her head spinning. Drawing in a deep breath, she held it for a brief moment. She released in a large sigh. “Then can we go a little slower, please?”

..-^*^-..

Tulipheart had left the den in search of food for her and Brindlefrost. The she-cat had flopped onto her nest after an exhausting lesson with the older cat. ''Yarrow for sick stomachs or poison. Mouse bile for ticks.'' She went over the basic remedies in her head.

Tulipheart had wandered out into the bright day, staggering over to the pile of fresh-kill. She got her footing and continued forward, ignoring the side glances that the ForestClan cats threw her way, or the murmurs that immediately started up when she walked out into the open.

Kneeling down, she picked up two mice from their tails. She saw a flash of white and brown wander into her vision. She looked up and straightened, and saw the cat. A rich brown tom, with white points. His amber eyes blazed in subtle anger at the sight of her.

"Hello, Tulipheart," the young tom said in strained politeness. The medicine cat nodded back in acknowledgement, turning her head and heading back to the den. She could feel his gaze on her pelt. She glanced back and saw he was closer.

"How is Brindlefrost's training going?" he asked. Tulipheart narrowed her eyes in suspicion. The tom was too smooth, obviously hiding some emotion.

"Her training is going fine," she said cautiously, stumbling on some of the words from the mice hanging from her jaws, and trying to reveal as minimal amount of information as possible. Something about the tom rubbed her fur the wrong way.

He walked away, and Tulipheart continued back to the den. Once back in the half-light, her eyes adjusted. Plopping down on the floor and tossing the tired Brindlefrost a piece of fresh-kill, she cleared her throat.

"So, I encountered this tom," she began. "Brown with white paws, belly, muzzle, ear tips, and tail tip. Bright amber eyes. He seemed interested in your progress. Who is he?"

Brindlefrost hesitated. It was for less than a heartbeat, but Tulipheart could tell that there was some tension between them. "That was Brownfire. We are- were friends," she corrected.

Tulipheart's eyes assumed a narrowed position. "Did he not approve of your decision? Do you like him?" pressed the yellow she-cat in her accent. Brindlefrost shifted uncomfortably, looking pained.

"No, and yes." She admitted. "A little. You can't control your feelings, right?" she asked, her eyes desperate. Tulipheart searched them and flicked her tail before replying.

"Sometimes the heart can lead astray. You're a medicine cat now, Brindlefrost. Don't make the same mistake I did." Tulipheart's voice dropped an octave and she stared deep into the grey tabby's sky blue eyes. Surprised, Brindlefrost changed positions.

“You...” she began, but Tulipheart had already shut her out and started eating her mouse quietly, avoiding Brindlefrost’s intent gaze. Her eyes were wide and bright with surprise at the medicine cat’s words. Had she fallen in love? Had she made the mistake the Brindlefrost might make in the future?

Tucking into her meal, the grey tabby she-cat wondered about the warrior code and Tulipheart. Brownfire was so upset at the prospect of him and her not being able to become mates and live a happy life, side by side. But if Tulipheart could do it, why couldn’t she?

Chapter Four
Rain pattered on the roof of the thickly entwined branches of the medicine cat den. The morning was quiet and the sky was mottled with grey and white. The cold air drafted into the dark den where Tulipheart was sleeping quietly in a makeshift den at the back. Raindrops flashed past the entrance to the den.

Brindlefrost sat near beside the hole that led outside, tail wrapped neatly around her paws. Light hit her chest fur to light it up, pale white light against the blackness of the den. She watched as rain soared down from above and drummed on the ground with a satisfying sound.

She spotted Brownfire crossing back from the entrance to camp to the warrior’s den. The grey tabby stifled a chuckle. His fur was sleek from water and dripping, tail like a rat’s. But she saw the glance he casted towards her way. Once of hurt and betrayal, and it made her heart drop like a rock.

It had been seven days. Seven days since Seedwhisker died. Seven days since she decided to become a medicine cat. Seven days since Tulipheart arrived. Seven days since she had broken the trust of her former best friend. It pained her greatly.

In the past quarter moon, it seemed more interesting then it should’ve been. In addition to the scent of SlickClan barely inside their side of the border, Ashenfire had became a warrior after taking his final assessment, and seemed less than happy to be sleeping in the same space with Brownfire again. Brindlefrost shook her head. It seemed that just a few moons ago, Ashenfire and Brownfire had been buddy-buddy. But lately, it seemed that her brother was developing a hatred for the brown and white tom.

She sighed. The morning was peaceful. The only sounds were her breathing and the soft pitter-patter of the rain. It was like a blanket of silence had been thrown over the camp. Not a rumble of thunder was to be heard anywhere. Though Brindlefrost suspected tough luck for catching as much prey as they had been, it was nice to have a rainy day.

The tabby turned to see Tulipheart stir. She had become good friends with the medicine cat in the days that she had been here. Her eyes opened just before her mouth did.

“If I had trouble breathing, what would you give me?” she quizzed.

“Coltsfoot or juniper berries,” Brindlefrost replied restlessly, staring out into camp. She was wishing that Brownfire would once again cross camp, and she could see his smooth, brown pelt again. She missed the close bond that the two had dearly.

Tulipheart heaved herself out of her nest with a little trouble. She walked over to where the grey tabby was sitting, who shivered when a bought of humid air mixed with a cold draft hit her. The yellow she-cat followed the gaze of the tabby and found her staring at the warrior’s den. Sheepishly, Brindlefrost backed away.

“This... I assume you were watching that Brownfire tom?” she asked. Brindlefrost swallowed and nodded.

“Brindlefrost,” Tulipheart breathed. “I know you’re interested in him, and I know he means something to you. But you can’t keep doing this. ForestClan is your priority now. And if Brownfire would break off a friendship just because you became a medicine cat, he’s not worth chasing.”

Brindlefrost knew that she was right in some way, but she wasn’t going to give up until she rekindled her friendship with the tom. The times she had seen him in the past days, he had been trying his best to ignore her and her den. She knew that others talked and gossiped about them, and she hated it.

She cast a glance at her herb storage. I have herbs that can combat death. I don’t have herbs for a broken heart, she thought to herself sadly. Looking back at Tulipheart, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I know, I know,” Brindlefrost muttered distractedly. “I’m just-” she didn’t meet Tulipheart’s eyes as she thrust her head out of the den. “I’m going for a walk.” She needed to clear her head. She shivered as the rain dampened her pelt, but the last seven days had been so hectic that she needed a break.

“Out in the rain?” The yellow she-cat asked, but Brindlefrost was already halfway across camp. Strikestripe was standing straight, eyes focused ahead as he guarded the entrance to camp. His gaze shifted to Brindlefrost.

“Hello,” the tom purred and stepped closer to nuzzle his daughter. “Where are you going?”

“A walk,” she told him. He looked at her, confused.

“But it’s completely down pouring!” the tom exclaimed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He flicked his striped tail.

“Dad, I’ll be fine,” she cut him off before he went all out on a safety lecture. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated, more soft.

Strikestripe looked doubtful, but still moved to the side to let his daughter pass.

Brindlefrost padded out of camp, her paws drumming on the soft, moist ground. Her claws seeped into the dirt. She felt a little uneasy about going out into the forest on her own so soon after Seedwhisker’s death.

Brindlefrost stretched her muscles, feeling the rain that had already slicked her pelt slide down it. The grass was soft and springy, dew moistening it. Puddles formed as rain battered the ground, and the tabby sighed. She already felt a little better than when she was burdened with learning all the herbs.

Humid air wreathed around her neck as she walked through the forest. Stream arose from the ground. She felt the rain pelting down on her back, either aimed directly at her or dripping off the leaves of the tall trees. She kept her ears pricked; listening for both thunder and undetected predators rustling in the bushes.

Her grey tabby tail dragged on the ground as Brindlefrost tipped her head back and thought about Brownfire. The topic made her head hurt, but it had to be addressed. She groaned quietly. Why couldn’t she stay friends with him? She understood that he was hurt, but it wasn’t any easier for her to adjust.

In her eyes, it was selfishness.

Brindlefrost heard something through her pricked ears. The sound of crashing. Gulping, she lifted up her damp tail and quickened her pace. Was she going to suffer the same fate as Seedwhisker? No, no. She couldn’t. Two deaths in the same moon was unfathomable.

Nonetheless, she skipped quicker. The sound was getting closer. She was on the verge of running when she saw a brown tabby body crash onto the ground after sprinting through a bush. It was Swirledpaw. His green and amber eyes looked up at her. They were clouded with fear.

“Brindlefrost!” he gasped, scrambling off the wet ground, shaking out his pelt. “We need your help! SlickClan is invading!”