Dovewing’s Silence

Chapter 8

The warriors enjoyed only two nights of peace after the Gathering before Toadstep started coughing. This time Dovewing struggled to feel sympathetic. He knew he was getting sick! He should have gone to Jayfeather!

Hazeltail was still being nursed in the medicine cats’ den, but as Toadstep didn’t seem quite as sick, Jayfeather and Leafpool made a nest for him in the apprentices’ den with Sandstorm. Squirrelflight announced that she was moving back to the warriors’ den, saying that it made sense to let the coughing cats keep themselves awake. But Dovewing saw past the deputy’s lighthearted comment to the strain in her eyes, and she wondered how many more cats would succumb to the illness.

Leafpool stood over the fresh-kill pile, making sure each cat was eating properly. When Dovewing selected a rather scrawny mouse, Leafpool reached out with one paw and stopped her. “I’ll have that,” she meowed. “You and Bumblestripe can share this squirrel.”

Dovewing looked at the plump, fluffy creature. “It’s huge!” she pointed out. “We could eat that for a whole moon!”

“Share it with Purdy, then,” Leafpool urged.

Dovewing dragged the squirrel over to the tree stump, trying not to sneeze as the wispy tail tickled her nose. Purdy licked his lips. “What a feast!” he commented.

“Bumblestripe, join us!” Dovewing called. The big gray tom trotted over with Sandstorm at his heels.

“Is there enough for me?” she asked hoarsely. She looked tired, and Dovewing could count her ribs along her bony sides.

“O’ course!” Purdy grunted with his mouth full. He shifted to let Sandstorm take a bite from the squirrel’s juicy rump. Swallowing, the old tom watched as Toadstep shuffled into the apprentices’ den, followed by Jayfeather with a clump of fresh bedding. “Putting you and Toadstep together reminds me o’ the time Firestar took all them sick cats to the old Twoleg den,” he remarked. “That were a brave thing he did, keeping the rest of us from getting ill.”

Sandstorm’s eyes clouded. “It cost him a life, too,” she recalled.

“Do you think we’ll do that again, if more cats start coughing?” Dovewing asked as she scraped a stringy piece of meat from between her teeth.

Sandstorm shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t want to infect anyone else, but it wouldn’t help to be in that drafty old den. Better for all of us to be close to the medicine cats.” She looked down at her paws as if she’d lost her appetite, and Dovewing felt bad for making her think back to that terrible time of sickness.

She glanced around the clearing. Although it was sunhigh, the sky was thick with clouds and the breeze smelled of rain. The cats huddled over their food, their fur blown all ways so that they resembled pine cones more than sleek, well-groomed warriors. A flash of movement caught Dovewing’s eye. Blossomfall was slipping through the barrier, not using the usual gap but forcing a new way at one side of the entrance. The fur pricked along Dovewing’s spine. Was Blossomfall trying not to be seen? She battled briefly with a stir of suspicion and cast out her senses, trying to picture the she-cat on the other side of the barrier. She felt the familiar jolt of dismay as no pictures appeared in her mind, and nothing came to her above the sounds of her Clanmates eating. She shook the feeling away. Where is Blossomfall going? There was only one way to find out.

Nodding to the other cats around the squirrel, she stood up. “I’m just going to the dirtplace,” she whispered to Bumblestripe to deter him from following her. She used the normal gap through the barrier, noting with relief that it was becoming less prickly. Outside the hollow, the trees clashed in the rising wind, and even though most of the leaves had fallen into heaps on the ground, little daylight seeped down to the forest floor. Dovewing trotted through the shadows, following Blossomfall’s scent trail on the leaf mulch. Her heart was pounding and she kept her ears flattened, listening for sounds of danger. The buzzing noise had stopped but her senses still felt dull and heavy, and the half-lit forest seemed far more daunting and secretive than it ever had before.

Suddenly there was a rapid crackle behind her and Blossomfall pounced on Dovewing’s haunches, knocking her over. Dovewing scrambled to her paws and spun around. “What did you do that for?” she cried.

“You were following me, weren’t you?” Blossomfall challenged. “Why would you do that? Don’t you trust me?” Her fur was fluffed up and her voice was harsh with anger.

Dovewing looked down at her paws, flushed with shame. “I… I was just wondering where you were going.”

Blossomfall flicked her tail. “You may as well come with me, since you clearly think I’m up to no good.” She turned and bounded through the trees.

Dovewing raced to catch up, feeling branches slap her face as they hurtled through the undergrowth. They emerged into a burst of daylight on the old thunderpath. Blossomfall didn’t slow as she swerved and headed along the pale stone to the tumbledown Twoleg den. To Dovewing’s surprise, she skidded to a halt beside the ivy-covered den and vanished along its side. Dovewing paused. Is she meeting a Dark Forest cat? She thrust the thought away. Blossomfall had done nothing to make any cat question her loyalty since the Great Battle! Dovewing trotted after her Clanmate and found her bent over the dark brown soil behind the abandoned den. She was poking at some shriveled plants with one paw.

“I’m looking for catmint,” the she-cat hissed through gritted teeth. “Satisfied? I know Jayfeather and Leafpool grew some here, and I wanted to see if there was any left. Our Clanmates are getting sick, and we have to find a way to make them better before we have to dig any more burial holes!” Her voice rose in despair and Dovewing felt a surge of sympathy, and guilt for doubting her.

“I’ll help you,” she mewed, her voice cracking with emotion. She pressed against Blossomfall’s flank in silent apology, then began picking over the loose, damp earth. To her relief, she uncovered a few tiny green stalks still bearing leaves. “Do you think these will help?” she asked Blossomfall.

The warrior nodded. “Bite them off carefully,” she instructed. “Leave the roots so they can keep growing.”

With a small harvest of stems, they headed back to the camp. “I’m sorry,” Dovewing meowed around her mouthful. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Blossomfall stopped and put down her little burden. “I’d probably have done the same,” she admitted. “Joining the Dark Forest was the biggest mistake I could have made. I… I’m not sure I can forgive myself.”

Dovewing leaned over and pressed her muzzle against Blossomfall’s shoulder. “You have to,” she murmured. “For all our sakes. We have to move on from what happened, and find new ways to be strong.” Her words fell like stones into the cold air. Does that include me learning to live without my senses? she wondered. Just like Blossomfall, I feel as if I can’t forgive myself if I am losing them. How will I serve my Clan now?