Finally!!!!!
Chapter 7
For the morning of the next day, Dropstar hunted with Needletoe and Woodfleck, some of her closest friends. Needletoe kept giving her odd glances, to which Dropstar responded with only a tiny nod. Woodfleck didn’t know about the EmberClan situation and the leader wanted to guarantee her friends were safe. Woodfleck was more calm than other warriors like Frozenclaw or Goldenshine, but the speckled she cat was also terrible with secrets. Dropstar couldn’t imagine she would restrain from telling her peers for more than a day, and after that it was all downhill.
“Dropstar!” Woodfleck hissed. The thick furred she cat spun around to see a small fawn stepping over the thin layers of snow. It was rare they good get this much prey especially now, in the heart of leaf-bare. Dropstar silently nodded at the hunter, who descended into a careful crouch. Looking up just once to make sure the deer was still in reach, Woodfleck lunged out of the bushes and sprang into a chase. In seconds the tiny deer shot away, only for Needletoe to emerge from its other side and startle it for long enough for Woodfleck to pounce and swiftly bite its neck. The skilled she cat rested the prey on the ground for a moment, catching her breath after the brief jump. Dropstar offered to hold the heavy piece of fresh-kill as they walked back to the Warrior’s Camp.
For a moment, Dropstar could forget everything about EmberClan. It was so easy when nobody except for Needletoe was aware, and Needletoe tended to fret about everything, so there were no changes. Dropstar had no idea of the sick and dying cats on the mountain peaks, not when she was dragging back prey nearly as big as her to feed the whole clan in the harsh winter months.
“Wow!” exclaimed Wolfstreak as he bounded across the clearing. “Hope I’ll be able to catch something that size rather than a dumb weasel.”
“You know any prey is good enough, Wolfstreak,” Frozenclaw assured him. “And don’t listen to Pinetail. He did absolutely nothing.” The tabby shot a glare at the warm brown tom.
“Hey. Don’t pretend you hate me.” Pinetail’s expression was stern but he was obviously hiding a chuckle.
Dropstars small patrol was the last to come in, letting her and the rest of the clan settle down with the prey. Dropstar and Woodfleck shared a leg on the deer, while Grassbird refused to let anyone but her eat the weasel her son had caught on his first hunting day as a warrior.
Needletoe strode up to his leader. “So are you letting them celebrate?” he demanded, his voice loud over the din.
“What are you talking about?” Dropstar responded, narrowing her violet eyes at him.
“They don’t know about EmberClan. You know there is probably very little prey on top of that mountain, right?” he asked.
“Yeah…..” Dropstar trailed off. It had not occurred to her that there wouldn’t be much to eat. But Needletoe was right. She hadn’t seen any prey when she visited. “Look, they said it wasn’t our problem,” she shot back at him, putting on her “I am a FrostClan leader and I don’t want to be harsh but you kind of are just the deputy" voice.
“‘They’ was just the two highest ranking cats,” the tom snarked. “Are you really sure you can’t inform them? It was my idea, anyways, to hide it, so you can’t pull the ‘I want to be stubborn and stick to my decisions’ card.”
Dropstar stared at her paws. Darn. Needletoe was smart. “It’s fine. Emberstar didn’t want us to intervene. So we stay here, until they come to us. Your new plan won’t accomplish anything. Now go worry about something else. I don’t need you.” She turned her gaze away from the deputy, who immediately stamped off. Her words had sounded harsher than she intended, Dropstar was sure. She caught a flash of amber fur out of the corner of her eye and spuna round on her heel to see her third in command. “Goldenshine!” she exclaimed. How much did he hear?
“Oh hey. Do you want me to lead some border patrol? I already ate,” the golden tom offered. There was the slightest hint of something in his voice. Worry? Doubt?
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Dropstar answered, a little distracted.
“Dropstar?” called a small voice. The leader turned around to see Creamwing gnawing on a vole, lying down by her den. The cream-colored cat pushed the chewed-up fresh kill aside, still out in the open. As Dropstar approached her, she noticed not much of it was eaten. “Yeah?” Dropstar padded next to the medicine cat.
“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you see these high winds and the cold ground?” Creamwing asked, glancing up at the grey sky. Dropstar clenched her teeth. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for more worrying from her high ranking cats. “Those are signs of a blizzard. I think this snowfall with become thick and harsh by tonight, so you might want to prepare the clan.”
“Oh.” Dropstar craned her neck at the horizon. Clouds were billowing in the sky and seemingly being swept towards the forest. Creamwing was a little bit difficult, but she had never been wrong in her short time as the medicine cat. “Okay. Well, I’ll send out some more hunting patrols to catch more prey in that time. And….” Dropstar inspected the she cat. Creamwing hadn’t said anything about Falconflight and Snowwhisker, but it certainly seemed to be stressing her out. Not only were there herb roots clumped around her ankle, her fur seemingly hadn’t been groomed this morning. The young medicine cat hadn’t been taking well to the new job. She’s so stressed. All the more reason not to tell her about EmberClan, Dropstar thought, taking note to say that to Needletoe next time he tried to spark a fight. “....Take care of yourself, okay, Creamwing? I know it's kind of hard after Oxfern died. Believe me, I’ve been there.” Dropstar had to stop her brain from repeating memories of when Dapplestar unexpectedly died and she was alone. “Just… come talk to me whenever. And remember you know, basic self care.” She smiled warmly at the medicine cat, who nodded, her brow furrowed in understanding. As Dropstar turned away to gather some food to store before the blizzard, she mumbled to herself, “Take your own advice, Dropstar.”