#pepperfoot

stupid willowclan sketch for something that happens like 2 and a half years in the future (scratch and pepper ARE still the current medicine cats where the comic is tho. scratchdusk is a whopping 118 moons old)

Meadowtree and her parents (Kestral — mother, Pepper — father)

They never did find their daughter, but they also never gave up hope, holding onto it until the day they both died

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Nightfly origin

Previous

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“Still no sign?” Nightdrift asked the returning patrol. He stood by the fresh-kill pile, and was making his pick when the cats padded through the entrance. Their drooping tails and discouraged looks gave Nightdrift the answer before any of them spoke.

“Not a single scent,” Kestrelspot reported, before hissing to herself.

“We’ll find her,” Pepperfoot, her mate, promised,  pressing against her side. 

But Kestrelspot shook him off, bristling. “It’s been moons! How has no one found a single trace of her?!” She trembled. “If I had known…I never would have let her hunt alone! I–I didn’t know there’d be a flood! RiverClan didn’t say anything!”

“She drowned,” Ravenfrost, an elder that was sunning herself nearby, broke in. Her voice was raspy, scratching along her throat as much as her words scratched at Kestrelspot’s heart. 

Kestrelspot glared slits at her. “No one ever found a body!”

“Washed away,” Ravenfrost responded simply. “I know it’s hard, Kestrel, and I’m sorry for your loss, but we can’t keep wasting resources on a lost cause.”

“My daughter is not a lost cause!” Kestralspot snapped. She looked ready to pounce, and Nightdrift held his breath, half-expecting the grieving mother to attack the elder.

Pepperfoot pressed more deeply against her side, brushing his tail over her back soothingly. He glared at the old calico. “Just stop talking, Ravenfrost. Nothing you say will make us give up on our daughter. If we have to search for the next hundred seasons, so be it.”

Ravenfrost sighed. “Forgive me for wanting to spare you the pain hope can bring.” With that, she stood and padded into the elder’s den.

As soon as she was gone, Kestralspot dropped heavily to the ground, as if the short argument drained all the energy from her. She gasped, shaking as waves of sobs wracked her body. “She can’t be dead,” she cried. “She can’t be! She’s strong. She survived, I know she did! It’s just taking her a little bit to return, that’s all.”

Nightdrift frowned, wishing he could do something to ease her pain. Glancing around the camp, he saw that no one who had witnessed the exchange seemed to share Meadowtree’s parents' belief. Everyone either looked away or shook their heads sadly, and every gaze that Nightdrift found was filled with hopelessness. No one else thought that Meadowtree would come back. No one thinks she’s even still alive….

He couldn’t imagine the pain. His kits were only born the other day, and already the thought of losing them, worse, the thought of losing them and never knowing where they are or if they’re okay–it well near gave him an anxiety attack. He resisted the urge to run straight to the nursery to make sure that his two little kits, and their mother, were safe.

“Kestrelspot?” Nightdrift spoke up, nearing the she-cat. “How about a rabbit? There’s a fresh one on the pile, still warm.”

Kestrelspot sniffled. “I need to go back out.”

“I’ll go,” Nightdrift offered. 

Pepperfoot blinked. “You will?”

Nightdrift nodded. “Yes, of course. Meadowtree is our Clanmate. You eat and rest. Catch up on all the food and sleep you’ve been missing for the past moons. I will look for Meadowtree. I promise,” he added when Kestrelspot opened her jaws, “I will look for her as if she were my own kit.”

Kestrelspot nodded slowly. “Th-thank you,” she breathed. “It means a lot, it really does. Everyone else…they’ve given up on her.”

“I haven’t,” Nightdrift reassured her. “Go, eat. I will be back at dusk.”

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