#>doc

It was a wet, cloudy day. The only things the clan could do was gather the moss of the walls of the camp before the stray rain drop or two started to pelt down upon the cats. Even their hunting was spoiled, the beaches too precarious to hunt in. During the storm's earliest phase, Honeypelt decided to re-check the two-leg dirt road. The clan use the man-made paths to get up and down the beaches in a pinch. He took Honeytide, Sporepond, Chasingleaf, Slipgoose, and Bluepaw.

While the rain lazily fell, it didn't obscure the horrible stench of the two-legs- it smelled fresh even. A two-leg beetle had been here, recently. Bluepaw gagged at the stench. Honeypelt had half a mind to tell the 7 moon old apprentice off until the stang of blood hit his nose and made his stomach churn.

"Someone's been injured!" He yowled even though everyone was in a tight group. He and Honeytide led the rest along the trail until they came upon the body of a cat, one leg sprawled out and marked with the pawprint of a two-leg beetle. Honeytide ran to the cat's side and gently sniffed at their face, which was responded to with a lazy growl from the injured loner. With haste, the patrol shifted their focus to getting them to camp, where Greydrizzle could attend to them.

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When the patrol arrived to their home, the storm was finally closing in. Through the gloom, Juniperstar lay grooming Meadowshade by the fire of the hearth, with Springpaw and Snapchomp mixing in chunks of stew meat into the pot of perpetual stew. Bluepaw ran ahead and rushed to the hospital to grab the herbalists, which alerted the leader. He froze mid lick, tongue out, and stared owlishly at the cat on the Honey Bitches (of oats) backs.

"Nettle?" He shakily mewed, getting up and following them into the sheltered hospital.

"You know them?" Honeypelt asked, helping ease the injured cat into a nest freshly done up.

"Of course... that's my sister!"