TB MOONRISE -- Chapter 7 (Patreon)

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Mothwing couldn’t help but groan in frustration as she ducked beneath the shelter of a low-hanging willow. Gathering horsetail in a light drizzle was nothing for a RiverClan cat, but that drizzle had intensified to a deluge so quickly that Mothwing barely had time to save what she had gathered.

She tucked the stems closer to the shelter of her body as the rain splattered the earth outside of her little shelter into mud. If the stems grew too damp, they’d rot before they could be put to use, and this trip would’ve been for nothing.

Through the branches, Mothwing could see just how angry and dark the sky was. Though she hadn’t been able to predict how powerful the storm would become, she knew that it was only a greenleaf squall – they came and went quickly.

The storm began to ease off, and the sky brightened suddenly. Mothwing sighed with relief as sunlight streamed through the branches and onto her damp pelt.

She peered out from her shelter. Ahead, the river had burst its banks, the sunken grasses around it drooping with the weight of the water. Worry flashed through Mothwing. I hope the camp is okay. If anyone had gotten hurt, Mudfur would need her help – there was no time to gather more herbs.

Mothwing picked up her horsetail stems and poked her head out from the willow. The ground was soaked, and she lamented that she wouldn’t make it back to camp without soggy fur. She put her paws to the path back to camp, trying to avoid the boggiest spots as the wind began to pick up and push the angry stormclouds away.

Good, she thought, glancing up at the sky as she padded up the slope that would take her home. That’ll make the herbs dry out quickly; the land, too.

A sound carried over the wind, tickling her ear fur. Mothwing paused at the top of the hill, looking back. From here she could see just how big the river had gotten in such a short time, and she stretched her eyes wide in awe. The current was flowing fast, carrying debris from upstream with it.

The sound came again, closer. Mothwing frowned, dropping her horsetail. Is that a cat? She thought.

A huge clump of debris was making its way downstream. Mothwing narrowed her eyes. She didn’t recall any bush like that growing anywhere in the forest… it wasn’t until the cry came again, and a dark head poked out from within the odd bush, that Mothwing realized what the debris was – That’s the apprentice’s den, and that’s Reedpaw!

RiverClan dens were built to float when the camp inevitably flooded during the rainier seasons, but they didn’t often float all the way downstream into the river! Panic gripped Mothwing as she locked eyes with Reedpaw, who was trapped inside the remains of the once-woven den.

“Help!” the apprentice cried. “Help me!”

Mothwing barreled down the slope, splashing into the river before she realized that she had no plan at all. How was she alone supposed to save Reedpaw? In situations like this, RiverClan warriors were trained to work in pairs – the dens were too heavy for one cat to move all on their own.

“Mothwing!” cried a voice.

Mothwing looked across the river, spotting a silver shape bursting from the forest on the ThunderClan side. Silverstream!

“I’ve got him,” the warrior called. “Help me!”

Mothwing nodded. Silverstream put on speed, dashing ahead to meet the floating den before the river turned. Mothwing plunged herself deeper into the river, letting the current drag her downstream, using her paws to guide herself towards the den.

She collided with the apprentice’s den quickly enough. The whole thing was falling apart as the water crashed into it, and Reedpaw was huddled up in the only corner left with his claws dug in to keep the whole thing from turning over. His eyes were wide with terror, and Mothwing spotted a thin gash on one shoulder.

“Stay calm!” Mothwing meowed, churning her paws to keep her head above water. “We’ll get you out!” Reedpaw didn’t reply – he only curled himself deeper into the den. Mothwing figured that was best – if he started to thrash, the whole thing would tip over.

It was harder to keep herself afloat in the strong current than Mothwing realized. Her jaws filled with water and she coughed – but she caught sight of Silverstream slipping into the river just ahead. Hope filled her, and she thanked StarClan that the once-RiverClan queen hadn’t forgotten how to swim when she joined ThunderClan.

The apprentice’s den glided through the water, and Mothwing followed it. Soon enough they reached Silverstream, who put her back into the woven reeds to stabilize the den. Mothwing grabbed the floor of the den in her jaws, and together they began pushing it to the RiverClan shore.

Mothwing unclamped her jaws from the den floor as they reached land, her teeth aching from the effort and her mouth tasting of foul river water. Together she and Silverstream nudged the den up into the grass, where it just about came apart.

“You can come out, little one,” Silverstream soothed. The ThunderClan she-cat’s pelt was glossy with water, debris caught in her pretty tabby fur. Mothwing figured she looked no better, but she found herself licking her chest fur self-consciously.

Reedpaw, shaking, emerged from the den. As soon as his paws were clear he limped as fast as he could to dry land, where he sat and shivered. Mothwing padded to his side, concerned as she sniffed his pelt.

“Shock,” she decided. She glanced about at the grasses around them. There ought to be… she plunged her head into the tall grass and plucked a few stems of wild thyme from the small patch that grew near here. The leaves were damp, but they would work.

Mothwing laid the stems before Reedpaw. “Eat the leaves,” she instructed. Silverstream had curled around the apprentice, and was soothing him with comforting licks, her tongue ruffling his fur the wrong way to help it dry faster. Reedpaw bent his head to lap up the leaves, and Mothwing looked to his shoulder.

The cut was small, but deep. She gave it a lick and found that there was no debris caught in the wound. That’s good, she thought. Just a cobweb dressing and something to keep away infection…

She thought of her horsetail. Mothwing excused herself and headed up the slope, finding her stems in the grass. She brought them back to Reedpaw and Silverstream and began chewing them into a poultice.

“You’re doing well,” Silverstream mewed appreciatively.

Mothwing, her pelt warm with embarrassment, began slathering the horsetail onto Reedpaw’s wound. “Thanks,” she mewed back.

The thyme seemed to be working on Reedpaw, as the young tom’s eyes were no longer glassy with panic. He turned his head to acknowledge Silverstream.

“T-Thanks for the help.” he meowed gratefully. “You’re ThunderClan, aren’t you…?”

Silverstream blinked softly at the young cat. “I am ThunderClan, yes,” she responded. “But I was born in RiverClan. Your mother and I know one another well, Reedpaw.”

Reedpaw blinked gratefully at her.

“What happened?” Mothwing wondered, finishing up her work on his shoulder.

Reedpaw frowned. “I… I was just taking a nap in the den when the storm started getting bad. By the time I woke up, I heard everyone yowling my name – but I was too far away already! The storm picked me right up…”

“I’m glad we found you,” Silverstream sighed. “I caught wind of the squall just before it got bad. My patrol was about to head back to camp when I heard a cry near the river.”

Mothwing blinked gratefully at her. “I’m glad you were there,” she meowed. “I don’t think I would have been able to push the den on my own.”

“I may have left RiverClan, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the cats in it,” Silverstream purred. “But I should get back to my patrol.”

Mothwing frowned. “The stepping-stones will be flooded over,” she pointed out. “You should take the Twoleg bridge.”

Silverstream nodded in agreement. “I shall,” she meowed. “But before I go, I have to ask… have you heard anything from Feathertail or Stormfur?”

Reedpaw frowned. “You mean they’re really not in ThunderClan?”

Mothwing winced. Apprentices! She thought. No tact whatsoever! But she couldn’t be so upset – Reedpaw was too young to know any better.

Silverstream shook her head incredulously. “Of course not! They love RiverClan – it was always their home. Why would I ask otherwise?”

Reedpaw hunched his shoulders, looking rightfully embarrassed. Silverstream turned her gaze back to Mothwing, her eyes pleading for an answer.

Sorrow pierced Mothwing. “I wish I knew where they went,” Mothwing murmured. Like with Sandstorm the day before, she felt awful for not being able to comfort a mother worrying for her kits. “I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t Feathertail say anything to you about leaving?” Silverstream wondered, looking desperate. “You two were so close!”

Mothwing’s tongue felt dry with guilt. We were, I know, but… “She… We stopped talking when I was chosen to be a medicine cat,” she replied quietly.

Silverstream’s eyes softened with understanding, and sympathy. Mothwing felt her pelt prick with embarrassment – She’s not the one who should be feeling like that!

“That’s all right,” Silverstream decided. The silver tabby queen got to her paws. “I should get back to my own territory, before a RiverClan patrol comes.”

Mothwing wished she knew what to say to soothe the ThunderClan warrior’s heart as she watched Silverstream pad away – but just like her relationship with Feathertail, there was nothing she could do. It was in StarClan’s paws, and they would decide how it ended. I just hope she’s okay.

Reedpaw groaned beside her. Mothwing pulled herself out of her own head and nudged the small apprentice to his paws. “We need to get you to Mudfur. Come on.”

They padded up the slope together, moving slowly to compensate for Reedpaw’s limp. Mothwing collected the remains of her horsetail as they passed, lamenting that she’d have to collect more as soon as she could.

She looked up at the sky. It was clear, sunny and cloudless, without a hint of any more rain in the cool breeze. Had Feathertail been caught in the storm? She thought of her former friend, lashed in the rain. I hope you’re okay, and that you’re not alone.

StarClan, if you’re listening to me, please… bring them all home somehow…