A/N: heck yeah, it still exists “So what are we gonna do today, Timberclaw?” Badgerpaw asked. Timberclaw sighed. “I wasn't planning on having a training session today,” he answered. “If I was, I would have told you.” “Oh, sorry,” Badgerpaw apologized, quietly. “I just thought that maybe it was a surprise training session or something.” “I don't use surprise training sessions,” Timberclaw shrugged. “If I had to wake up at dawn to do something, I would like to know beforehand.” Badgerpaw padded beside his mentor in silence. Timberclaw noticed how the young apprentice seemed on edge. He hardly cared why, but he figured that he should ask, just so the apprentice retains trust in him. “You seem upset about something, Badgerpaw,” he remarked, hardly sparing the apprentice a glance in his direction “What trouble are you facing?” “It's just…” The apprentice poured out his feelings to his mentor. “Acornpaw is in the medicine den and she's got a fever and she's sick. Amberbark says it's nothing, but I can't help but be worried for her. Like, she's my littermate, you know? I feel like I should be worried. But, it's not really helping anything, it's just making me feel worse. I don't know, what do you think?” That might be just a bit too much trust, Timberclaw thought as he scanned his head for an answer that would satisfy Badgerpaw. “I wouldn't worry,” he stated simply. “I'm sure the medicine cats have it all under control, they're trained in this sort of thing.” “Heatherpaw, get back here!” Thistlefang yelled after her apprentice, who was making her way towards the exit of the cave that their camp resided in. “Thistlefang,” she shot back, turning around, “if the other clans have feverfew, I will not hesitate to ask them to use it. The well-being of the cats of Torrentclan mean more to me than some stupid rivalry, and that should mean more to you, too.” “Those stupid cats would probably keep the feverfew for themselves and watch our clanmates suffer,” Thistlefang hissed. Heatherpaw shook her head. “I don't believe that.” “What are you talking about?” Badgerpaw asked them anxiously. “Mind your own business, you little buzzardface!” Thistlefang sneered. “Woah, woah, woah.” As much as Timberclaw couldn't care less about the apprentice, he definitely hated Thistlefang a significant amount more, and there was no way he was going to let her talk to Badgerpaw like that. “What's the deal?” “We're out of feverfew,” Thistlefang huffed, visibly annoyed. “We have none, and Heatherpaw, the little mousebrain, suggested that we ask the other clans for help!” “Well maybe you should,” Timberclaw told her. “Like Heatherpaw said, as a medicine cat, you should be focused on the well-being of your clan above yourself.” “Who's the medicine cat here?” Thistlefang growled. “You're just a stupid warrior and she's a mousebrained apprentice! You know nothing.” She dragged Heatherpaw back into the medicine den, which seemed to be crowded with cats whining for herbs. Timberclaw glanced over to Badgerpaw, who was staring after them in shock. “They’re out of feverfew,” the apprentice spoke softly, hardly even blinking. “Acornpaw isn’t receiving treatment. None of the cats are receiving treatment, and Thistlefang is worried over some stupid rivalry?” “I agree, the only mousebrain here is her,” Timberclaw scowled. “I’ll try talking to Waspstar about it.” “But doesn’t he hate the other clans too?” Badgerpaw asked, looking up at his mentor. “He does,” Timberclaw nodded. “But I’d like to think that he puts more value in his clan.” “Good luck, Timberclaw,” Badgerpaw nodded respectfully as his mentor padded to the leader’s tree located directly in the cave. That mousebrained medicine cat, Timberclaw thought as he stepped along the edge of the Freezing Pond. I bet a kit would do better than her!