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Beware, there is mentions of corpses, mummification, death, and TOES. And writing. Good lird this boy can yap.
Warmpaw was never in the forefront of Nettleclan’s mind, and that was perfectly fine for him. They were always in the background, content to lie in the shadows of others. It was humble. That didn't explain why, somehow, it felt like Starclan was turning its wrath on Warmpaw. Why every night, the poor cat's dreams were filled with falling, painfully crashing, and sand between her toes. They knew about Pebblespeckle, the cat who met their demise in a cave under the sands... so why did he torment her?!
Greydrizzle was of no help, neither were Perch, or Mothleaf. Even Fallowshell, when she was alive, had no help to give. They all had conflicting diagnoses, opinions- none of them helpful. It got worse when Warmpaw's eyes were clawed at by a hare- the dreams came every night, disrupting his sleep. It felt like torture. They did manage to recover, with both eyes intact, but that helped little. The only thing that helped was being with Rainflick. He helped soothe their worries, and was just overall a good cat to vent to.
So that was the name they screamed when the soft sands of the eastern territory caved in, plummeting her into the unknown. Thankfully, she didn't land on anything hard- only sand. It was plush, soft, and warm- like a nest laid out in the sun. They struggled to their feet, shaking off the sands clinging to his pelt like fleas. It felt... less intense than their dreams. Now that he actually knew what falling felt like... it wasn't that bad. But then, there was the issue of getting out.
The cave was dark, with only the light of midday to guide her. There were sandstone walls, clawed at by small, desperate claws, leading to a tunnel. At the end of that partially dug out tunnel was the mummy of a cat. ‘Flailpaw,’ Warmpaw knew instantly. His body was small, hardly apprentice sized, and clearly malnourished. How long did the poor thing spend down here? How long would Warmpaw?
Warmpaw refused to let this cave remain a graveyard for apprentices. They, very carefully, dug around the corpse of the kit, and easily- at least, easily in comparison to Flailpaw- began to dig a good enough tunnel to the surface, just barely wide enough to fit themself. It took hours, long into the night, until Warmpaw finally broke through the dirt and soil to the surface. The tunnel ended along Nettleclan and Bigclan's border.
With no strength to haul herself to camp, she rested under the roots of a scraggly scrub-tree. When he woke, it was barely dawn. Using what strength they had gathered in the night, she went back into the cave to gather the remains of the departed. In the mouth of the tunnel, he set Flailpaw. They knew, somewhere in that death trap, Pebblespeckle's remains were lying. Perhaps, that was why she was being tormented. So in the sand, they dug, smoothing down the fall, removing stones and beach rock that made a fall into there deadly. The rocks were shoved onto the walls, reinforcement like no other. Warmpaw felt like she was making a den out of the sand cave.
By the time she heard her name being called by a terribly worried Rainflick, she had found every bone from Pebblespeckle's skeleton and placed them in a shallow hole for the time being. It was nearing night by the time Rainflick’s voice pierced the skies. A cry of Come Home! Her legs burned with effort, but the thought of stopping for a moment hurt worse, so they kept moving. They dug more of the tunnel out, to where she could finally bring out the malnourished Flailpaw and herself in a single trip. He'd have to bring a basket for Pebblespeckle, unfortunately.
"Warmpaw?!" Yowled Rainflick, backed up by Lavenderstep and Billowspot. They all stopped in horror when Warmpaw emerged from the earth, holding an apprentice-sized body in her large jaws. "What..." Rainflick was immediately by their side, as the two apprentices fell to the earth - one exhausted, the other...
~~~
When Warmpaw woke, she was in a hospital nest, lying at the back where it was coolest. The only cats in the Hospital were Nettle, Sleepykit, and Octopuskit. Nettle was assisting the two newborn kittens in eating their milk (totally not stolen from the cows that roamed the border of the clans. Totally)
Nettle used her foreleg to dip a paw into the milk, then allowed a kit to nurse off her. Gross- but surprisingly effective. Warmpaw purred while watching, which caused the injured molly to look up, and she smiled at Warmpaw.
"You're awake." She said, matter-of-factly. "You've slept through two moonrises." She looked back down to Octopuskit, who finished suckling with a full, sleepy look. Instantly Sleepykit was trying to latch, mewing pitifully. Nettle had to gently push the kit off with her nose, then wetted her paw. Warmpaw laughed a little.
"Mothleaf has milk, " Warmpaw croaked, "why are you feeding them?"
"Mothleaf only has so much. She's weaning her kits, and isn't making as much as the new ones need." Nettle said, helping Sleepykit suckle. "So I am filling in. My previous colony did this for the orphans. If not with milk, then with prey-blood. Didn't… always work, but it was better than letting kits starve." Warmpaw didn't speak after that, a bit sheepish at being corrected. Nettle sure was a strange, but wise cat...
Warmpaw only meant to close his eyes for a minute, but when they were open again, a bowl full of Nettleclan's signature clam chowder was resting to the side of her nest. It was still steaming, so Warmpaw wasted no time in lapping it up. Out of the corner of their eye, she saw Mothleaf curled around her kittens, along with Lavenderstep and Honeypelt's. Despite the two or so moon difference, they were all curled up like siblings. Greydrizzle was nearby, preparing a salve for storage and replacing what looked like an old, moldy one. Warmpaw didn't know- she's not the medic here. Perch emerged from the entrance of the Hospital with a wad of fresh moss to line the spot where new patients lay. He was the one to notice Warmpaw awake.
“Warmpaw, ye be in a world of trouble. Rainflick’s mighty cross wit’ ye, and Juniperstar be too.” He said as Warmpaw ate. Their ears lowered instinctively, and they bashfully looked away. “But-” he started again, “yer heroics be not ignored. Peace has come to the Starred Clan, and Wayfinders of the Lost be taking back their charges. Yer punishment be delaying yer warrior naming ‘til the next moon.”
“Th-thank you, Perch. I- I didn’t mean to worry everyone! I- I swear! I just- fell. It was like it came out of nowhere…” Warmpaw huffed, but honestly was thankful there wasn’t any real punishment. “... Did they get Pebblespeckle’s bones? I- I had them all collected ‘nd ready to take out-”
“Aye, laddy, his bones be buried right next ta Longriver’s, as be Flailpaw’s. I be arguing wit’ Juniperstar ta name Flail something ta’night, but Greydrizzle will be the one to officiate, wit dem being a healer bef’r.” Warmpaw nodded, supposing that made sense, Greydrizzle is the head medic, so he’d have the final say. She doesn’t know how Starclan works, honestly. Only the torment they brought. Hopefully with this, they’d finally leave him alone.
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Shimmerprickle was babysitting the kittens, as was her duties as campkeeper. Sporekit was snoozing lazily under the shade cast of the Herbalist's rocks, while Sorrelkit and Chasingkit wrestled. Larkkit and Warmkit were both fearfully taking turns putting their little paws in the tide pools that made the outter border of camp, right next to where Shimmerprickle sat. She was always there to be a big sister to the little balls of nervous floof, especially now that they were up and walking. She hoped to mentor one of them when the time came- Sorrelkit, especially. He was spunky and would go along great with her prima donna attitude.
She barely felt the bite when the snake sank its teeth into her. She blinked and looked over to the small snake, a bright orange-yellow thing, with pink-red eyes. It had darker yellow spots, and a scoop shaped nose. It dug into her fur more, like she was a mouse, and it hit skin. Only them did she hiss in pain, and bit at it. Warmkit and Larkkit looked over as she tore it off her, leaving a gnarly looking wound in her right shoulder, and began crying- loudly. They ran straight for Greydrizzle, babbling and talking over each other. Shimmerprickle rolled her eyes and followed them, the snake making a foul smelling musk as she walked. Gross.
Greydrizzle began making a bandage and herbs slop mixture when Mothleaf and Perch got a good look at the snake that bit Shimmerprickle.
"Oh, thank Starclan, that's not a rattlesnake!" Mothleaf sighed, watching as Shimmerprickle set it down. The snake, oddly, turned belly up, stuck out its tongue, and stopped breathing as heavily.
"How do you know?" Shimmerprickle asked, flipping the snake over, to which it flopped back over and musked. Again.
"Well, for one, it's really small, and the tail has no big segments on the end. And for two, that behavior! This is what Quietclan calls a 'Puff Adder'! They're huffy little things, only mildly venomous. You'll be fine with a bit of poultice, you might get a bit of irritated skin, or like you've been stung by a bee. We'll have to monitor you for any allergic reaction- Murmurstar had- has... a pretty bad reaction to Puff Adder bites." Mothleaf morosely looked at the adder as it refused to participate in the conversation. Perch put a paw on its neck and it wriggled around.
"I wonder how a snake like this got here. It's too... bright. A hawk or... some other critter would've already made it their lunch at this point." He picked it up gently, making sure to keep his mouth over its neck, so it couldn't move its head to bite.
"Twolegs sometimes keep them things as pets." Badgerpatch said, leading in a tired looking patrol of Slipgoose and Meadowshade. "By the way, Perch, next time you an' yer," he cast a scathing look at Mothleaf, "ladyfriend, wanna go rollin' th' clovers, TELL US WHAT THE NINE HELLS TANSY LOOKS LIKE!" Badgerpatch hissed, hackles raised. Perch held his jaw open as he scoffed, face red. Mothleaf hid her face in her fur, as Meadowshade put a paw over the snake Perch accidentally dropped.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I HAVE A MIGRAINE!" A weak but still feisty voice screeched back. Poor Fennelspot. Greydrizzle lead Shimmerprickle over to an empty nest, close to Honeytide, who was still stricken with a mangled tail. His heat exhaustion had left him, along with Rainflick's heat stroke. Shimmerprickle settled down nicely as Greydrizzle began dressing her bite, two little sets of eyes watching.
Warmkit was the first to approach, ears and tail tucked as she waddled up to Shimmerprickle. "S-sorry I din't tell you sooner..." She sniffled. Shimmerprickle just smiled and pulled the kitten closer, and licked her wild fur calm again.
"It's okay, baby girl, you're not the one whose supposed to keep the camp safe by her lonesome. I was the one who should've been watching out." She cuddled Warmkit close as Larkkit scrambled over, huddling into her left side. "Same goes for you, little sunbeam! I'm not mad at either of you." Larkkit didn't say anything, but his body untensed. Shimmerprickle laid down fully, 'trapping' Warmkit in her paws and under her chin, as she began to give the baby a bath.
~~~
Outside the medicine den, Sorrelkit found an opening in the walls of camp, a tunnel just barely kit sized, that he could squeeze through. Nobody knew, and he always made sure to come back home before too long. But his confidence grew more and more with each visit. Soon, he thought, he'll try catching his own prey! That'll make him a warrior even before his siblings! Maybe next moon, when he's three whole moons? That was the age a big bad leader from a long forgotten clan made kittens like him apprentices, but it'll be all right!
