Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

THUNDERCLAN

LEADER    FIRESTAR— handsome ginger tom

APPRENTICE, BRAMBLEPAW

DEPUTY    WHITESTORM— big white tom

MEDICINE CAT    CINDERPELT— dark grey she-cat

WARRIORS

DARKSTRIPE— sleek black-and-gray tabby tom

APPRENTICE, FERNPAW

LONGTAIL— pale tabby tom, dark black stripes

MOUSEFUR— small dusky-brown she-cat

APPRENTICE, THORNPAW

BRACKENFUR— golden-brown tabby tom

APPRENTICE, TAWNYPAW

DUSTPELT— dark brown tabby tom

APPRENTICE, ASHPAW

SANDSTORM— pale ginger she-cat

GRAYSTRIPE— long-haired gray tom

FROSTFUR— beautiful white she-cat, blue eyes

GOLDENFLOWER— pale ginger she-cat

CLOUDTAIL— long-haired white tom

SWIFTCLAW— small black-and-white tom

BRIGHTHEART— white she-cat, ginger splotches

APPRENTICES

THORNPAW— golden-brown tabby tom

FERNPAW— pale gray with darker flecks, she-cat, pale green eyes

ASHPAW— pale gray with darker flecks, tom, dark blue eyes

BRAMBLEPAW— dark brown tabby tom, amber eyes

TAWNYPAW— tortoiseshell she-cat, green eyes

QUEENS

WILLOWPELT— very pale gray she-cat, unusual blue eyes

ELDERS

ONE-EYE— pale gray she-cat, the oldest cat in ThunderClan, virtually blind and deaf

SMALLEAR— gray tom with very small ears, the oldest tom in ThunderClan

DAPPLETAIL— once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat, lovely dappled coat

SPECKLETAIL— pale tabby, and the oldest nursery queen

SHADOWCLAN

LEADER    TIGERSTAR— big dark brown tabby tom, unusually long front claws, formerly of ThunderClan

DEPUTY    BLACKFOOT— large white tom, huge jet-black paws, formerly a rogue cat

MEDICINE CAT    RUNNINGNOSE— small gray-and-white tom

WARRIORS

OAKFUR— small brown tom

LITTLECLOUD— very small tabby tom

BOULDER— skinny gray tom, formerly a rogue cat

RUSSETFUR— dark ginger she-cat, formerly a rogue cat

APPRENTICE, CEDARPAW

JAGGEDTOOTH— huge tabby tom, formerly a rogue cat

APPRENTICE, ROWANPAW

QUEENS

TALLPOPPY— long-legged light brown tabby she-cat

WINDCLAN

LEADER    ONESTAR— brown tabby tom

APPRENTICE, GORSEPAW

DEPUTY    WEBFOOT— dark gray tabby tom

MEDICINE CAT    BARKFACE— short-tailed brown tom

WARRIORS

MUDCLAW— mottled dark brown tom

TORNEAR— tabby tom

RUNNINGBROOK— light gray tabby she-cat

QUEENS

ASHFOOT— gray she-cat

MORNINGFLOWER— tortoiseshell she-cat

WHITETAIL— small white she-cat

RIVERCLAN

LEADER    LEOPARDSTAR— unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

DEPUTY    STONEFUR— gray tom, battle-scarred ears

APPRENTICE, STORMPAW

MEDICINE CAT    MUDFUR— long-haired light brown tom

WARRIORS

BLACKCLAW— smoky black tom

HEAVYSTEP— thickset tabby tom

APPRENTICE, DAWNPAW

SHADEPELT— very dark gray she-cat

MISTYFOOT— dark gray she-cat, blue eyes

APPRENTICE, FEATHERPAW

LOUDBELLY— dark brown tom

QUEENS

MOSSPELT— tortoiseshell she-cat

Chapter Text

       The infection started only a moon ago. Given the name Rotcough by Shadowclan’s medicine cat Runningnose, it acted similarly to Greencough - wheezing, fever, all that - but after the cat had died, they rose again. Shambling, mindless zombies who attack anyone near. Their fur turned dark, their eyes completely white, and their body continued to rot and deteriorate. Anyone bit would soon develop Rotcough as well. No matter how hard the medicine cats worked, how long they searched for any possible herb, Rotcough could not be cured, and it had a 100% fatality rate.

        It started in Shadowclan. Longtail didn’t know how Shadowclan was doing currently. They hadn’t attended the last Gathering. From there, it spread to Windclan, killing both their leader and their deputy in one fell swoop. The current leader, Onestar, had to be appointed by their medicine cat. For an entire moon, it steered clear from Thunderclan. The cats decided that it was a blessing from Starclan, that it would never reach them, but Longtail knew deep down that they were all just waiting. Everybody was on edge, all the time, and he knew what occupied their minds. When?

        When the time for the Gathering was approaching, many cats insisted that Thunderclan should not go. Stay away from the other clans, limit exposure to the virus. Firestar had insisted that they attend anyway, that checking up on the other clans was “the right thing to do.” Longtail was one of the cats that volunteered to go, and as far as he could tell, Windclan hadn’t brought any sick cats. And, trust him, he kept his ears perked for even the quietest of coughs. Leopardstar reported that Riverclan had, just like Thunderclan, not been reached by Rotcough yet. Longtail wondered how they were doing now.

        The camp was eerily silent as Longtail dragged his best friend, Mousefur’s, body from the medicine den and towards the camp entrance. Thunderclan’s first death from Rotcough. She had already been sick for a few days, of course, but the cats had decided to pretend everything was fine, insisting that what Mousefur had fallen ill with was just regular old Greencough. To see her dead, it all felt too real now. Warriors simply stared as Longtail passed them. A few apprentices had broken into tears, retreating to hide in their dens.

        Firestar waited for him by the camp entrance. “Do you know where the pit is?” he asked quietly, not even meeting Longtail’s eyes as he continued to stare down at his paws. Shame decorated his face, as if the virus reaching Thunderclan was his own personal failing as a leader. Longtail wouldn’t tell him that was true, but it was him who had decided they must go to the gathering. Would Mousefur still be alive, if it weren’t for him?

       “I do,” Longtail replied, his voice muffled by fur. Firestar had already shown him there once, just in-case. It had been decided that Longtail would be the zombie handler before Mousefur was even sick.

       The walk wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. The nagging thought of Mousefur turning right then and there and attacking him clawed at his mind. He didn’t think that he’d be able to fight back, not so soon, not against someone he was so familiar with. Tears threatened to fall from the corners of his eyes, obscuring the sight of Mousefur’s paws already turning a deep brown, her claws unsheathing.

       He paused at the edge of the pit, hesitating before dropping Mousefur in. It felt so wrong to just throw his dear friend into this sea of rotting monsters. But then he thought he could feel one of her muscles twitch, and he panicked, throwing her in. A sinking feeling filled his stomach, and he quickly closed his eyes and turned away, although he could still hear the sick crunch of Mousefur hitting the bottom. He wanted to will himself not to look, not to see what had become of her, but morbid curiosity took over anyway and he peered over the edge.

       Whatever bone Mousefur had no doubt broken didn’t seem to hinder her zombie self, as she was already standing and looking around. Other dead cats shambled around the pit, their jaws hanging open. Some with missing chunks of flesh, some with exposed bones and missing limbs. If the smell alone hadn’t already made Longtail feel like throwing up, the visual sure would have. Then, Mousefur looked upwards, directly into Longtail’s face. His ears pinned back against his head as Mousefur’s mouth opened and she let out a long groan, blood falling like drool and splattering against the dirt. She wanted to advance towards Longtail, but she just walked into the wall instead.

       Good thing they don’t know how to climb out of there, Longtail thought to himself with a solemn sigh. He was about to turn and return to camp, before he suddenly saw movement on the other side of the pit. His fur stood on end, unsheathing his claws instinctively, in case a stray zombie had somehow made its way over here. Luckily for him, that was not the case. It was Runningnose, his eyes dull as he dropped yet another body of a Shadowclan cat into the pit. Longtail thought briefly that it was impressive he could drag bodies all the way from Shadowclan to the pit, given his small stature.

       “Runningnose?” Longtail called. Light returned to Runningnose’s eyes as he looked up in surprise.

       “Longtail?” He called back, sniffling. “Thunderclan, too? Are you guys okay?” It wasn’t normally in Shadowclan’s style to care about what happened to Thunderclan, but Runningnose had always been nicer than most of their cats.

       “You weren’t at the gathering.” Longtail ignored his question. “I thought maybe all of Shadowclan was dead.”

       “No, no,” Runningnose explained. “Tigerstar said we had no time for the gathering, and he wanted all of us to focus on hunting for the clan. We have so many sick cats, we can barely keep up with the prey pile.” He cast his eyes downward as he said his next words. “Even I’ve been hunting. We ran out of herbs, and… and Tigerstar said that they were just going to die anyway. That I shouldn’t risk myself getting sick for no reason.”

       “Really? He ordered you to just neglect your sick cats?” Longtail replied. Anger flared up inside him. That’s exactly something his former “friend” would do. Like so many times before, he mentally shamed himself for ever having looked up to Tigerstar. “That’s terrible.”

       Runningnose looked up at Longtail gratefully, relieved to hear someone else share his sentiment. “How many of Thunderclan have died?”

       “Just one. Mousefur. She was the first.”

       Runningnose dipped his head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

       “Cinderpelt’s working on a cure. I know she’ll find one,” Longtail wanted to stay optimistic, but Runningnose just gave him a sad, knowing look before stalking off.

       When Longtail re-entered the Thunderclan camp, he quickly looked around for Firestar, to tell him about Shadowclan. But all that he saw was a bunch of warriors gathered around the medicine den, leaving the rest of the clearing empty. Longtail felt his heart thud against his ribcage as he slowly approached, afraid of what he would see. Looking over the heads of other cats, Longtail saw a lump of gray fur in one of the beddings. The warrior’s body shook as he was wracked with coughing. It was Graystripe.

       Firestar sat near him, his ears pinned and his fangs bared, flinching away with each cough. He looked anguished, like he was angry at Starclan for letting something so terrible happen to his closest friend. The crowd was clamoring with panicked questions directed towards Cinderpelt, along the lines of Will he be okay? Do you have a cure? Are we all going to be infected? Have you heard anything from Starclan? and even some darker suggestions, from Darkstripe in particular. “We should just throw him out now,” he spat.

       Willowpelt turned to Darkstripe, her fur standing on end and her hackles raised. “Are you insane?” she hissed. “Throw my kit into that pit before he’s even dead?”

       “He won’t be your kit soon enough,” He hissed back, claws unsheathing. He stepped closer to Willowpelt. “Do you want us all to get Rotcough?”

       Firestar looked like he was about to break it up, but Cinderpelt did it for him. “Everybody out!” She cried, overwhelmed. “Leave me alone! I don’t have answers! And Graystripe needs space!” The warriors slowly dispersed, gathering in smaller groups all over the clearing, starting hushed conversations. Darkstripe lingered a while longer, still glaring at Willowpelt before leaving. Longtail staggered as Darkstripe hit his shoulder on his way to the camp entrance.

       Longtail cautiously entered the medicine den. “Firestar?” He said. Firestar turned. “I spoke to Runningnose.”

       “Runningnose?” Firestar’s ears perked. “Did they find a cure?”

       “...No,” Longtail replied slowly. “But Shadowclan is still around, however small.”

       Firestar’s ears fell again. “I see. That’s… good, I suppose.” Longtail wanted to stick around longer, to comfort him. But then Firestar’s mate Sandstorm approached, and he knew that they probably wanted to be alone. He turned and walked off, his paws heavy.