[Thymepaw]
ˢᵏʸᶜˡᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉⁿᵗᶦᶜᵉ
With leaf-bare fast-approaching, cats from all clans were beginning to prepare themselves for the harsh weathers ahead. Extra prey was dug into the ground to freeze and preserve, medicine cats bustled around looking for the last traces of herbs that they could muster to provide for their clan through the harshest months of the year. This day was no different, Skyclan's camp had been bustling with activity all day, Firestar was preparing his clan as if it was going to be a tough leafbare, and every cat was doing what they could for the preparation. Every cat except one older apprentice.
Thymepaw panted as his paws thumped against the rock-hard ground leading him through the territory and up toward the falls, a bundle of herbs was clenched in his jaws- scraps to most cats, but he carried them with a sense of pride and purpose, racing his way up the rocks with the expert navigation of a trained Skyclan cat. As he reached the base of the falls, the tom ducked his head as water spray over him, but he persevered, pushing his way behind the gushing water, dropping his precious bundle in the small cave behind.
He sat slowly, catching his breath with rapid gulps, gaze anxiously flicking around the cave- he'd been careful not to be followed, rolling in some of the dead leaves littering the territory to rub off his scent, as well as taking the long and winding path that would lead him here instead of the easy way. Thymepaw knew that not every cat would see his actions as something normal, and something to be proud of. A small shred of guilt, like a small bone, wormed around in his stomach as he awaited his visitor.
That guilt vanished in a moment when he heard familiar, heavy and ambling pawsteps approaching the cave. As a plump, matted young tom poked his head through the gap between the cave and the waterfall, Thymepaw rushed to meet him. He bumped noses with the cat clumsily, mumbling a hasty apology as he pressed his shoulder against the other tom, clearly weak from travelling all the way here. The loner wheezed, his chest crackling as he did so. He was barely older than Thymepaw, but he looked seasons older, with the way his pelt had matted together as the sickness had stopped him from grooming it.
"Thank you for giving us your help..." The loner murmured, stooping his head to pick up the bundle of herbs. "Missy will be grateful...with her kits coming so soon, they'll need us all to be feeling better in no time..." Another cough shook the tom's body as he turned around, heading toward the exit. This was how fleeting their meetings always were- Thymepaw would bring the herbs to their meeting spot, Jack would come and collect them, and take them back to his group of sick cats.
Thymepaw had offered to get them a medicine cat's help, but Jack had refused, claiming that they had a healer, and just needed herbs. Thymepaw had agreed, despite knowing that it was against the warrior code to be helping out an enemy so easily. But these cats didn't pose any harm or threat to his clan, so why shouldn't he offer them herbs? Sure, it was getting tougher through leaf-fall, but as long as they were better by leafbare, all would be fine.
"Jack," The older apprentice started, and the older tom lifted his head, ears pricking. "Are you sure you don't need a medicine cat?" He mewed, his concern evident in his voice. The tom had padded away from him, but Thymepaw hurried back to his side, rubbing his face along the tom's cheek. "You need to eat some of those herbs yourself, you know..." He mewed, a gentleness to his voice. His heart thumped uncomfortably in his throat. Thymepaw knew that visiting the loner had let his heart give away to growing fond of him, but he knew Jack would never return those puppy-love feelings. It was a strong desire to care for him, and nurture him until he was better.
Jack's head turned away as he flicked his ears.
"They can manage without me, but I can't sit by and watch them die." He half-heartedly nudged Thymepaw's cheek with his nose, before padding away, and leaving Thymepaw listening to his footsteps slowly fading, eventually drowned out by the waterfall.
Heaving a sigh, the smoky grey-and-white tom padded from behind the falls, casting his gaze anxiously around, before a scent that was all too familiar hit his nose. Skyclan scent-!
Panic took over, and Thymepaw hurriedly skittered down from the rocks, slipping into a thick clump of bracken and holding his breath, hoping that whatever cat was there... that they hadn't noticed him, nor the weird scent now clinging to his fur.
Starclan save me. He thought.
Thymepaw exhaled a long breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding. His paws shook with relief, and he hurriedly pushed his face against Northpaw's shoulder. Hoping his relief and gratefulness showed in the way he breathed out a shaky breath, he trotted to catch up to Jack, who had been standing awkwardly a small distance away, watching as the clanmates argued.
The ginger tom nodded and flicked some of his matted fur from his eyes with a grumble. The rogue wondered if he could convince a twoleg to cut it for him once he was better, it had gotten unmanageable as he hurried himself around trying to help out his kin.
"...Ain't as bad as that, I don' think." Jack piped up, leading the way as Thymepaw hurried to his side in case he stumbled. The two walked, their pelts brushing ever so slightly with every few paces, and Thymepaw felt himself burning with self-consciousness.
"Judging by the cats I've personally seen... it's more of a whitecough, but there's... other symptoms. Some cats are being sick, and can't eat at all, some are lethargic, others are complaining of nearly constant bellyache..." Thymepaw's ears flattened. "There's this little kit, she's one of the least affected, but she's..." He frowned.
"I'm still worried. She has a lot of injuries, and infection will set in easier with the sickness going around. She's strong, but a dog got to her the other sunhigh." He glanced back toward Northpaw, eyes wide and pleading. "Thank you for changing your mind, Northpaw... it means a lot." He'd always be grateful for her help, and he knew it.
Jack veered off to the side after what felt like hours, heading in the direction of a run-down, abandoned twoleg nest that stunk of sickness. Kits wailed from inside, and Jack's eyes widened beneath the fringe of his overgrown head fur. "That ain't voices I've heard 'fore..." He started- "Missy's kits must'a come early!" There was equal parts joy and panic in his voice. The twoleg nest was separated from the clan territory by a large thunderpath. It was mostly abandoned, with the occasional monster travelling down it.
Jack's pawsteps got quicker rather suddenly, and he padded onto the thunderpath without much consideration. Before the ginger and white tom had time to register what was happening, blinding light clouded his vision, and with a sickening thud, he was sent spinning across the thunderpath.
Thymepaw let out a howl of despair, "JACK!" He yowled, racing after his first love, crouching at his side on the opposite side of the thunderpath, his tail fluffed and the fur along his spine sticking up in all directions.
There was nothing he could do.