Thistlestep sniffed the night air. The scent of dying cats surrounded her, and she forced herself to focus. Cloverstar had fallen ill, showing proof that MoonClan was doomed. The small rays of light shone through the trees, illuminating Thistlestep's gray and white pelt. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of coughing. A young brown apprentice was jolted out of the den before anyone else could breath in the sickness. Thistlestep limped over to the small tom. His body looked frail, and he was shaking in the cold air. The she-cat froze. "No, I must stay here and help you!"