Despite Troutleaf's efforts, Breezefire remained asleep. "Well, fine then!" he said to her sleeping form, a slight smile returning to his scarred face. "I'll look for it myself." And he limped out of the den. Before leaving camp, he glanced around to check if any warriors were awake- all he saw, however, was Deepwater's tail disappearing into the warrior's den. He probably had dawn patrol, and he's getting back to sleep, the medicine cat thought to himself. No need to bother the warriors needlessly. After all, he probably wouldn't have to go too far to find it- the small plant preferred cool, damp environments, like alongside rivers. (Hopefully the cold hadn't killed all the plants off!) And... perhaps another part of him harbored dark suspicions. After all, no one had been able to figure out who killed Stormpaw...
Troutleaf firmly shook his head to clear his dark thoughts and set out at a brisk pace towards the nearby river. He'd have to rely on his eye, since he couldn't sniff it out, but with a lot of practice had come familiarity with all the types of herbs and what they looked like. He fluffed his silver and black-striped pelt out against the pervading chill in the air outside his den, but he was making good time- the icy river was already in view. His sharp amber eye, already scanning expertly for the small green stalks, at first skidded over the fallen body of Mosswish, covered as it was with snow. But then he took a double take. There was a cat buried under the snow!
Troutleaf immediately ran straight to the side of the fallen body. He knew- whoever this was, they weren't alive. No living cat would allow itself to be buried in the snow this way; even if one did, they would soon die of the cold. But finally, when he reached the cat's side, he could just barely smell it. Blood... and death. Hurriedly, the medicine cat began to swipe snow away from the cat's body- and what he saw underneath it brought him reeling backwards. His thoughts were swept away as a silent roar filled his head. It was... Mosswish. It was his sister! The back of her throat had been cut, and a brutal clawswipe would clearly have blinded her, the rational part of his brain coolly noted before the roar silenced it again.
"M... Mosswish..." Troutleaf whispered. "Mosswish! No... no! NO!" He surged to his feat, grief and panic and fury warring on his face, and he raised his voice in the loudest yowl he could muster- "RIVERCLAN! MOSSWISH IS DEAD!" Then he collapsed to her side, wobbling legs unable to hold him up any longer, and buried his face in her muddy, frozen fur. Oh, how he wished he could smell her one last time! But all he could smell was blood and death. He choked back a sob. Later... later, he would be angry. He would be furious. He would find who did this to her. But now... all he wanted was to grieve. Well... no. All he really wanted was his sister back, or... at least, one last chance to say goodbye...
(Deepwater. Also, I'm so sorry my posts are so long ;-;)
