Tales of Woe - RiverClan's Punishment

Willowpaw woke up bright and early.  It felt like a normal, warm, newleaf day.  But when she smelled the air, it stunk of sickness.  She heard groans all around her.  What had happened? Was someone sick?

Stormbringer woke as soon as the sun started to rise. The warriors' den stuck of suckness causing her to pause. Who was sick? Slowly the gray deputy untangled herself from Honeytongue and Ivystar her attention looking to all the cats who slept soundly, at least as soundly as they could. What was going on? What was she smelling? Carefully Stormbringer stepped out of the den, her eyes and ears alert. There was something strange about this morning, that she couldn't put a paw on.

Honeytongue was awaken by the shifting of Stormbringer beneath her, blinking tiredly as she stretched out from where she had thrown herself over the two she-cats. As the deputy worked to free herself from the pile, the golden she-cat quietly shifted to allow her escape room before she settled back down to curl in with Ivystar... And then she realized something was wrong. Her sleepiness started to fade as that realization hit her, raising her head to stare at where Stormbringer had stopped at the entrance of the warrior's den.

Her nose winkled at a strange scent in the air, ears perking at a sound she couldn't just place. But the scent... It was... Familiar. It sent a shiver down her spine, making her heart drop as she tried to place it. Then it hit her. Sickness. She recognized it from when it had drifted from Mudfrost but this was...Stronger. Worst. She scrambled to her paws and hurried from the nest to join at Stormbringer's side as the two peered into the camp clearing. She was about to take a step out to start to investage  - to try to see who was carrying the scent but her breath caught in her throat in an instance as an unexpected fear spiked through her body.

The memories of finding the still Mudfrost in her nest came flooding back as she felt her legs grow weak as she suddenly found herself leaning on Stormbringer's shoulder for support. Her tail curled around the deputy's, seeking comfort as the pain she had felt at finding her friend dead felt new and harsh. She...She couldn't go looking, she couldn't bear the thought of finding somebody dead from sickness again. She... She swallowed nervously, pressing the side of her face against Stormbringer's neck. "What is happening..." she whimpered. Something was wrong, there was no way the scent of sickness should be this strong so...So quickly. Her pelt prickled as she thought about it, knowing that something was...Strange. Weird. She hated it.

Now that newleaf had settled in and Snowpaw, being an older apprentice, had moved his nest closer to the center, he almost always woke to a comfortably warm den. But while he’d slept, the air had changed. The warmth he’d grown used to had turned heavy. He rolled to the side. At once, a strange, prickly scent wormed its way into his nose. Normally, he wasn't one to care about not understanding something. This, though—he couldn't identify or explain the scent, but it made his fur rise. He didn't need to understand to know it was bad.

Most of him wanted to bury his face in his nest and go back to sleep until this blew over. Instead, he bolted upright, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he searched for the only sibling who still shared a den with him. Willowpaw looked about as confused as he felt. It couldn't be her. Meeting her eyes, Snowpaw shrugged. Then he scurried out of the apprentices’ den without much care as to where his paws landed. Honeytongue and his mentor stood beside each other just outside of the warriors’ den; he shouldered past them both with a hasty apology, trying very, very hard to ignore the uncertainty in their faces. If Stormbringer didn't know what was happening…would Ivystar? Would anyone? He shook that thought off before it could take root and shouted into the den, "Poppybloom! Nightwolf! Applefang!"

Applefang had been awakened by the various moans. He sat up, wondering what was happening. Soon his younger brother was shouting his name. ”Snowpaw?” he asked,walking out. He didn’t want the apprentice to be sick. ”You alright?” asked the ginger warrior.

Streampaw woke up to the sound of yowls. Slightly stunned, she leaped up onto her paws. Her ears flattened on top of her head to block out the coughs and yowls. “Does anyone know what’s happening?” Streampaw asked through the racket. Is this contagious? Will I get it? Will Applefang get it? She thought worriedly. “I’m going to hunt for some food!” With that, she dashed to the river, determination flashing in her green gaze.

A russet-furred head emerged from the den. Snowpaw skittered back to give Applefang space, eyes darting back and forth as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. ”Okay,” he said quietly, finding nothing. ”…Okay.” Applefang was fine, not panicking, which meant Poppybloom and Nightwolf were probably fine, too—and their parents as well, though the idea of something happening to them hadn’t even crossed Snowpaw’s mind. He pressed his forehead against his brother’s shoulder for a brief moment; he was almost a warrior, after all. Then he backed away and stood up straight. ”I’m fine. It’s just—I-I don’t know what’s happening, but something’s wrong…”

The rancid scents of illness and vomit greeted Ashpaw like a smack in the face as soon as he opened his eyes, blinking confusedly as his eyes adjusted to the early dawn light.  Huh..?  Oh no, who's sick?  Climbing from his new clumsily-built nest, the fluffy gray tom gazed around the apprentice's den from his spot on the edge and gasped; it wasn't just one of his denmates, but several.  He also noticed that many nests were empty - notably Willowpaw, Streampaw, and Snowpaw's.  Green eyes round and brimming with concern, Ashpaw bent down to nudge the nearest one and purred, trying to keep the anxiety from his voice.  "H-hang in there, Spiderquill will be here soon!"  Turning tail and dashing from the reed den, the newest apprentice was greeted outside by panicked cats and the overwhelming scent of more sickness.  Heart beating fast, for a long moment he couldn't move; everyone was fine yesterday, how did this spread so quickly?  I feel fine though...are Quailkit and Iriskit okay?!  

With an impressive burst of speed, Ashpaw reached the nursery and ducked his head inside, but luckily he felt his body relax.  His siblings were sleeping soundly, and the large den was mercifully free of that horrible stench.  For a moment he stopped and took a deep breath, summoning confidence from the peaceful sight before returning to the clearing and catching sight of his mothe- guardian, Stormbringer.  Honeytongue was by her side, and though he didn't know the she-cat quite as well as her two mates, the scared way she was clinging to the deputy pulled at his heart.  I don't think they know what's going on either.  That concept shook him to the core, but he refused to fall to immobility.  Dashing up to Stormbringer, the serious glint in his eyes quite familiar on the tom but still odd considering his age, Ashpaw jumped straight to the point.  "What can I do to help?  Some of the apprentices are sick too, if Spiderquill needs extra paws I know how to use some herbs, mostly ones for stomachache.  My mom showed me."  

He wanted to be calm so that his clanmates could be calm too.  That's what he had done on the days when he couldn't find food, and his siblings had kept their heads.  Just...breathe.

You can do this.

Streampaw came back with three fish and two water voles,  tired out of her mind. She dropped all of the prey in the fresh kill pile, then almost fell on her face. She yawned wide, stumbling to the apprentice’s den, when she suddenly bumped into a random cat. It was Ashpaw. “Oh, hi Ash...paw...” Streampaw slurred, then shook her head. “I just hunted some prey.”

Before her eyes had even opened, Ivystar's fur stood on end. A scent that she couldn't quite recognize wafted past her nose, and Stormbringer was on her paws immediately. Honeytongue followed suit not long after, leaving Ivystar in their nest with her ears perked, listening in on the groans of pain coming from camp. Without bothering to groom down the stray tufts of fur on her chest, she padded out of the warrior's den, worry filling her emerald green eyes. The stench of sickness was rancid, worse than any leaf-bare case of whitecough she'd ever seen. No, this was something different. Much, much different. Gazing at the Clanmates who surrounded her, she could sense the panic settling in their hearts.

Her gaze flickered back to Ashpaw as he looked up to Stormbringer, relief flooding her very being. Her youngest son seemed to be safe, at least. With a flick of her tail she started towards the medicine cat den, careful not to step on the stray limbs or tails of any of her sickened Clanmates. "Spiderquill?" She uttered in a low voice, looking around with dismay. The den reeked of the same sickening stench, stronger than in the rest of camp. "Spiderquill, I've never seen anything like this before... It's not normal." Her stomach dropped at the thought of the previous Gathering. This sickness was simply unearthly, and the fact that it had only affected cats with certain histories... It was no coincidence. "Have you received any word from our ancestors?" Her voice held a note of worry, but otherwise was completely emotionless- How in Fishstar's name was she supposed to handle this?