A Bad Ending [Death Topic]

Raccoonfang had gotten sick, ever since Sageleaf's disappearance she had progressively gotten sicker. She had some cough she didn't really know the name of it. It was just one of those things that appreared as Leaf bare got closer. She thought she was going to get better that it would pass with time, but it had only gotten worse. She didn't blame the medicine cats in the slightest... they didn't have the experience they needed to deal with it, and now it had developed into something a whole lot worse.

She sat in the medicine den, coughing and wheezing pretty much with no break. Her frame weak from being sick for so long. She knew that she didn't have much longer. She knew that the sickness would be taking her to Starclan soon, her vision was getting blurry and she was pretty sure she saw some red with the last thing she coughed up. Perhaps she deserved it for trying to conspire with Slatethroat against Ashstar, maybe this was her punishment in the end. Not that she minded. She just hoped that Cheetahstirke and Mottleheart would be okay without her.. Her small but dear family.

At this point she didn't feel the coughing racking through her form or the painful scratch it left on her throat or the gunk and blood that came up with it. At this point she couldn't even make out shapes anymore. "Mottleheart.. Cheetahpelt.. I'm sorry.." Her voice started to break as she knew what was coming next, she couldn't do it anymore. "I can't hold on anymore.." If someone was at her side when she let go of her last breathe, she couldn't see them, but she knew that her clan would be by her side later and that was good enough for her.

Mistpaw pittered over to the fresh-kill pile, her amber eyes wide as she looked happily at the relatively well-stocked pile, her rabbit sitting proudly in the middle. It had been really hard catching the rabbit, and it took a lot of persistence and quick movements but she had done it. Mistpaw was about to grasp a small bird for herself when coughing reached her ears small ears. Jolting up Mistpaw turned to look pitifully at the medicine cats den; Raccoonfang had fallen ill after Sageleaf had left and it had gotten worse steadily. Pushing her maw together she pawed aside the prey until she grabbed the rabbit she had caught and made her way to the medicine cats den as the coughing fell silent.

Mistpaw pattered and dropped the rabbit, closing her eyes proudly as she dropped the rabbit for Raccoonfang only to process her words... see Raccoonfang stop moving and... relax. Mistpaw's mouth flapped and her fur bristled, her eyes widening as she truly started realizing what had happened. Mistpaw struggled to piece all of it together, her paws shuffling with disbelief as she looked down at the possibly deceased warrior. "Hey, Raccoonfang... I know it's fun to play games 'n' all, trust me I do it all the time but- this isn't a fun game. In a few moments, you'll stop holding your breath and you'll laugh and.." Mistpaw's voice cracked and shook, struggling to believe it as she stuttered.

"Mom..." Mistpaw tilted her head to call for her mother, but she wasn't loud enough. "Mom?" A little better.. "M-Mom! Mom! It's Raccoonfang! Mom!" Mistpaw turned on her foot and sped out of the medicine cats den, her tail bushed as her small legs slammed against the ground in her urgency. "Mom! It's Raccoonfang! She- She-" Mistpaw slammed into her mother, her eyes looking up at her desperately. "Raccoonfang is dead!" She yowled, maybe a bit loudly but in her distress, she didn't care.

Brindlewhisker let out a surprised grunt as she felt Mistpaw careen into her side, her daughters panicked cries making her ears perk with alarm. Of course as soon as she had heard Mistpaw's frantic calls she had been on her feet, but she hadn't anticipated the grey she-cat to come running as quickly as she had. The hair-raising stench of sickness and death clung heavily to her daughters pelt and, against her better judgement, the Deputy leaned down to soothingly lick the ruffled her on Mistpaw's face in an attempt to erase the foul scent that resided in her bushy fur before softly mewing, "Mistpaw? What's wrong?"

At her daughter's loud yowl, Brindlewhisker froze in her careful ministrations. Raccoonfang was dead? She knew that the Warrior had fallen ill a few sunrises after Sageleaf's disappearance, but it had already managed to kill the young she-cat? Oh Mottleheart. Forcing her fur to remain smooth and her breathing to remain steady despite the fresh wave of grief that pricked at her chest, she gave Mistpaw another reassuring nuzzle. "Go find Mottleheart for me, alright?" Brindlewhisker gently instructed, pulling away from the frazzled form of her daughter as her gaze wandered towards the practically abandoned Medicine Cat's den.

Brushing away the terrible feeling that was wracking her frame, Brindlewhisker untangled herself from Mistpaw and forced herself to take quick steps towards the den that held the now deceased Raccoonfang. Somehow they were going to have to get the she-cat out of the camp without risking any other cats falling ill. But what if it was too late and the sickness was already spreading? How dare Sageleaf simply vanish like that...and leave them completely helpless. How were they supposed to survive Leafbare without an actual Medicine Cat? Blinking rapidly so that her eyes could adjust, she found herself staring down at the sickly and weak frame of Raccoonfang, feeling her stomach roil from the absolute stillness of the she-cat. Letting out a defeated sigh, Brindlewhisker could only stand at what she deemed a safe distance away from Raccoonfang, helplessly waiting for another cat to join her.

Twistedtail raised an ear lazily as some sort of yowl reached her. She wasn't too surprised- some apprentices were probably just making a ruckus.Plus, she was still recovering from that bout of sickness she experienced that disabled her from her duties for some time, and she didn't feel like moving. But then something else hit her, something the yowling cat said.

"Raccoonfang is dead!"


She she got up, with a grunt as her sore muscles stretched. After that, the scarred Siamese quickly padded over to where Mistpaw and Brindlewhisker were staring at Raccoonfang. Dead. It scared her, that how easily this could have been her fate. She spent a moment staring at this and then looked at the others. Mistpaw was obviously distressed, and the brave warrior she knew as Brindlewhisker was simply staring in shock and was rigid.

Twistedtail sighed, and set her crooked tail on the apprentice. "Mistpaw," she murmured, "It's okay. Raccoonfang was a brave warrior, and now he shall run forever in Starclan's majestic plains. Death is a natural part of life, you have to accept it." She winced a little as she spoke. Her own friends, family, they were all dead. The gray apprentice had only touched the tip of the iceberg that was the eternal grief that Twistedtail experienced. She hoped for her that she'll never have to see more death in front of her young eyes, but she had no control over death.


Then she looked at Brindlewhisker. Twistedtail had known her since kithood, when she rescued her from drowning in the freshkill pile. But yet she had never seen the deputy like this, standing still and looking conflicted in a way. she opened her mouth, as if she were to say something, but closed it again. There was little she could do, except comfort them and help carry the tom's body away.