A/N: I forgot if I published the previous version I had of this, but I rewrote it and planned it out a bit more, complete with new names and all that jazz. So here it is, enjoy . A dark pelt moved along the oak trees of the forest, hunting down an unfortunate squirrel with her keen eyes. She kept a close eye on it as it dashed through the underbrush, haphazardly twisting its way through a reckless path in an attempt to get away from the predator that hunted it. At last, there was no hope in sight for the poor creature, as the cat prepared herself to leap onto it. However, as she glided through the air, an unpleasant pain brought upon her by an unknown figure met her forehead and the both of them collapsed to the forest floor, leaving the squirrel to dash away and live for another day. “Ashcatcher, I had that,” the ligher tomcat groaned, shaking his head in an attempt to relieve the pain. “Well, Yarrowfoot,” Ashcatcher shot back, “if you had been paying any attention at all, you would've clearly seen that I was the one chasing down the squirrel and you were nowhere to be found.” “Enough already!” Brownclaw boomed, emerging from the plant life behind them. They both rose to their feet, straightening themselves up. “I should have known better than to take both of you on a hunting patrol.” “She started it!” Yarrowfoot protested. “If I didn't know any better, I would think you were a kit,” Brownclaw said. Yarrowfoot went silent, he didn't have anything to say in response. But Ashcatcher could sense that he was quietly raging. There was a certain look in his eyes. “It looks like our hunt has been unsuccessful,” Brownclaw sighed. “Thankfully, Dockfur’s hunting patrol got plenty of fresh kill earlier, so we should be fine. And don't worry, I will make a mental note to not put both of you together again.” Ashcatcher and Yarrowfoot nodded respectfully. She was disappointed that their patrol was unsuccessful, but she was glad that she wouldn't have Yarrowfoot going with her to ruin any opportunities in the future. Ashcatcher padded back through camp. Upon walking by the medicine den, she overheard a conversation going on between Thrushfoot and Redstar just inside the medicine den. She could hear the panicked tone of the poor medicine cat as he spoke. “Redstar, there's hardly any feverfew left!” Thrushfoot said. “There’s certainly not enough to treat all the cats with the early stages of greencough. If it gets any worse, there won't be enough catmint to treat them, either.” “Have you considered asking the other medicine cats for some?” Redstar asked, concern laced in his voice. Of course he was concerned, no good leader would want half of their clan to die from disease. “I have,” Thrushfoot sighed, defeated. “They're low on feverfew, too.” “Do you know of anywhere else we could find it?” Redstar urged, trying to think up some solution in his head. It was true that many cats were falling ill, from kits to elders. In fact, Dockfur was always on edge worried about her daughter, Streamkit, who was now bound to the medicine den and undergoing a horrible fever. Though, based on the conversation, Ashcatcher had assumed that Streamkit wasn't receiving much medicine. Ashcatcher stopped listening. Her curiousity told her to stay, but she felt like it was intruding, and Redstar and Thrushfoot would likely not appreciate it if they found her eavesdropping, so she moved on. She also figured that she shouldn't stick around the medicine den anyway, she didn't want to catch whatever fever was going around. “Hey, Ashcatcher!” Deerpaw greeted her, flashing a small smile as he walked by. “Shouldn't you be helping the sick cats with Thrushfoot?” Ashcatcher asked. Deerpaw shrugged. “There's not much we can do at the moment,” he replied, “but we're trying to help.” Ashcatcher had no worries, she was sure that Driftclan would find feverfew. But the other clans had none either, and that concern lurked in the back of her mind. Worry about your own clan, Ashcatcher, she told herself. You can worry about the others as soon as your own clan is fine. Dockfur ran by her in a panicked hurry, obviously on her way to the medicine den. One of the star hunters, a strong she-cat, now reduced to running to the medicine den every few moments and waiting on her sick child. She better watch out, Ashcatcher thought. If she hangs around the medicine den too often, she might catch their sickness.