Chapter 2 – Allergy to Tears

CHAPTER 2
Allergy to Tears

♣

HOURS PASSED.

Yellowfang was sleeping deeply on her nest inside the medicine den.

Cinderpaw, for her part, had hidden the herbs in time and masked their scent by covering them with other plants. She made sure the smell was impossible to detect.

When her mentor finally fell into a deep sleep, Cinderpaw seized the opportunity to take the herbs out of their hiding place and carry them outside.

Before doing so, she wet her muzzle to avoid falling under the catnip’s effect.

Her plan was simple: Fireheart usually spent the afternoons in the same place, chatting with Graystripe about anything and everything, usually on the warm rocks of the clearing.

She would call him, ask for help “collecting some herbs,” and, as always, he would agree.

Cinderpaw dragged the herbs out of camp and hid them inside some bushes.

Then she straightened up and shook herself, making sure her fur was clean and shiny.

Step one: complete.

Step two: secured.

Step three… now or never.

Cinderpaw stepped out of the wooded area of the camp and saw Fireheart laughing with Graystripe, who wouldn’t stop teasing him about the mouse Sandstorm had given him.

Cinderpaw puffed out her cheeks, annoyed.

Graystripe… you’re not helping…

Finally, she gathered her courage.

She walked forward with a firm step and sat just a few inches away from Fireheart.

She couldn’t help but remember how he had seen her the last time, but now she felt more prepared.

She was ready for anything.

“And then Sandstorm started talking to herself when I heard her say that you—” Graystripe was saying.

“Ahem!” Cinderpaw interrupted firmly.

Her voice stopped the gossip just in time.

Fireheart turned to look at her, tilting his head.

“What’s going on, Cinderpaw?”

She silently thanked StarClan that he didn’t comment on her previous muddy appearance.

“Well, I… there are some herbs I need to collect, but I need help. You’re good at jumping high, and these grow… in the trees,” she improvised nervously.

Fox dung, fox dung, fox dung… that was a terrible excuse. Just what I needed…

Fireheart twitched his ears and looked at Graystripe, who returned a mischievous glance.

The orange warrior flicked his tail toward his friend.

“Graystripe’s better at jumping than I am.”

“I don’t mind helping. What do you say, Cinderpaw? Need a paw?” Graystripe replied with a teasing smile, resting a paw against his cheek.

His thick fur ruffled in the breeze.

He knew perfectly well how Cinderpaw felt about Fireheart.

She gave a weak smile and shook her head, closing her eyes for a second before pointing at Fireheart.

“It’s something very specific that I need. Fireheart, are you coming then?”

The orange warrior nodded.

He stood up while Graystripe flashed him a knowing grin and lifted a paw, wishing him luck.

Fireheart didn’t understand the gesture, but Cinderpaw did.

She frowned, then turned her gaze forward, leading Fireheart down the trail.

“So, what exactly are we looking for, Cinderpaw?” Fireheart asked as he moved up to walk beside her.

Cinderpaw blinked and lowered her head, laughing nervously.

“Well… it’s something simple. I mean, easy. I mean… easy to find. No, wait, I mean…”

Fireheart placed the tip of his tail on Cinderpaw’s nose, stopping her rambling.

She froze as he let out a soft purr.

“You’ve been pretty energetic this morning, haven’t you? Did something happen?”

Cinderpaw stared at him, surprised. Fireheart had lowered his head to meet her at eye level.

Their gazes met, and she noticed how bright his eyes were… his whiskers, his gentle expression—everything about him made her blush.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Before she could react, Fireheart gave her a gentle lick on the forehead and pressed his own against hers, purring softly.

“You’ve grown a bit since the last time we hunted together, I’ve noticed,” he said warmly. “Sorry if I haven’t been around much. Something’s been going on and I… well, it’s hard to explain.”

Cinderpaw saw a flicker of bitterness on Fireheart’s face. Her chest thumped hard, and she shook her head several times, flustered.

“N-No, you don’t have to apologize for anything, it’s just that I… I…”

The words wouldn’t come out. And now that smell, that familiar yet dangerous scent, wasn’t far anymore. Cinderpaw swallowed hard. For a moment she thought about turning back… but Fireheart had already lifted his head, catching the fragrance.

“It smells… strong, over there,” he murmured, his whiskers twitching with interest. “It must be the herb you were looking for, you said it was easy to find, didn’t you? It doesn’t seem to come from the trees… let me get it for you.”

Before she could stop him, Fireheart stepped ahead.

Cinderpaw tried to grab his tail, but her hind leg failed her, the jump fell short, and she tumbled to the ground, watching helplessly as the warrior disappeared into the bushes, heading straight toward the cursed plant.

She had heard Yellowfang talk about that herb. She knew exactly what it did.

Catnip attracts all cats, but when a she-cat offers it to a tom, its meaning changes.

And so does its effect.

Fireheart sniffed among the bushes, following the intoxicating scent until he found its source. Then, without hesitation, he took it into his jaws.

Cinderpaw slowly got up, her ears twitching nervously. She moved closer, feeling her pulse pounding against her temples. And that was when she remembered, the part of the lesson she had forgotten until now, as if something within her memory had been blocked on purpose.

When that happens, the cat in question will seek to mate with the nearest she-cat who has awakened their feelings.

“Fireheart…?” she whispered softly, as though her voice alone could contain what was about to be unleashed.

The warrior withdrew his head from the bushes. His ears were upright, his tail lashed the ground forcefully, and his eyes… as wide as his lashes would allow. He chewed the herb a few times before letting the rest fall from his mouth, turning his head slowly toward her.

Fireheart had fallen.

“F-Fireheart, you’re… are you okay? Do you want to go back to camp? We… we already have the herbs, do you want me to take them instead? We can go back now, if—A-Aah!”

Her words died as Fireheart gently pushed her down, knocking her to the ground. He stood over her, his muzzle filled with the sweet, piercing scent of catnip. The warrior’s warm breath brushed her whiskers, and having him so close made her blush from the tip of her tail to the tips of her ears. She couldn’t think.

Fireheart surrounded her with his four legs, his whole body tense, his pupils locked on her movements. Cinderpaw, beneath him, felt the cold earth on her back, the weight of the warrior above her… and the lack of air.

No one would see them. It was night. The others were asleep. They were alone, so alone that if she had longer ears and a smaller body, there would be no difference between her and a rabbit trapped beneath its hunter. A rabbit in love with the one who was about to devour her.

“Fire…heart…”

Her face was burning, and Fireheart breathed deeply, his claws digging harder into the soil. But then, to her surprise, he raised his head, as if resisting. As if fighting something stronger than himself. His own instincts.

Cinderpaw saw it in his face: the panic. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to cross that line. Not with her. Not like this.

“F-Fireheart… It’s okay. I promise. Really… you can trust me.”

“Cinder…paw…”

Fireheart lowered his head. She embraced him, guiding him to rest against her chest. Her fur trembled beneath him, soft, warm. Cinderpaw looked into his eyes, so close that their breaths mingled, and even with all that heat, all that latent desire… something inside her didn’t feel right.

Everything had gone perfectly. Fireheart was there. His body was there. She could have all his attention, the attention she had secretly longed for so many times, hidden behind stolen glances and feigned words.

But when she held his face between her paws, seeing the furrowed brows of concern, her own expression faltered. Even though her heart was beating with love… it was also beating with fear. Why did this feel wrong?

The moment might have frozen there. But Fireheart felt her embrace… and something inside him changed. Is this fear? Is that what he feels? Cinderpaw wondered.

Fireheart, still lying atop her, let calm return to his face. Yet he could hear the apprentice’s frantic heartbeat, each thud striking against his chest like a war drum.

She wasn’t afraid of Fireheart… but of what might happen. Cinderpaw swallowed hard. She thought of Yellowfang. Of StarClan. Of Bluestar. Of everything.

And of how he might hate her after this.

Fireheart purred softly, lifted his head, and then saw her. She let out a long, trembling sound, eyes half-closed, head lowered. She gave in for a second, but only one.

She hadn’t thought this through. Not at all. She truly wanted his attention. But she shouldn’t force it.

Her lips suddenly felt wet, and she let out a warm sigh. When she opened her eyes… he was so close. She could feel the warrior’s paws moving along her body, brushing her, searching for her.

She didn’t want to force him to love her.

How foolish she had been.

When Fireheart’s paw reached her chin, she reacted: she kicked him in the stomach with her good leg and broke free, running off without looking back.

She couldn’t bear the expression he’d worn just moments ago. She couldn’t. And no decision she could make now felt right. So she ran.

The wind whipped her face. She cried without meaning to. Her paws grew filthy with dirt, but she didn’t stop. She closed her eyes and leapt, remembering there were rocks ahead.

But she misjudged the distance, tripped over a closer rock, and tumbled forward through what was left of the forest, covering herself in more dirt, before plunging straight into the river.

Water rushed into her ears, startling her so much that she panicked and tried to swim to the surface. But her injured leg betrayed her, cramping painfully. Tears of terror blurred the apprentice’s vision as she slowly began to sink into the cold water.

Was this the punishment StarClan was giving her? Had any other cat ever met such an end? She had heard stories… but couldn’t recall them. Her head throbbed.

Her vision grew dimmer, and when she tried to open her mouth, she accidentally swallowed some of the salty water, coughing and closing her eyes in fright, waiting for a fate that might forgive her for going against the warrior code and StarClan itself.

Or so she hoped.

In a sudden pull, her fur was caught by sharp fangs that dragged her toward the surface. Orange paws had plunged into the water to save her.

When Cinderpaw regained her sight and trembled, sneezing and spitting out the water she had swallowed, she saw the orange warrior approaching her, his face full of worry.

Fireheart had saved her.

Cinderpaw stood frozen, stepping back as Fireheart approached.

Was he still under the effects of that herb?

Cinderpaw trembled. The cold seeped into her body, and she couldn’t help the tears that began to form. She was scared.

“Cinderpaw.”

Fireheart came closer, and with his tail, helped her stand. He pressed her against his chest, licking her fur from head to back in an attempt to dry her.

But his gaze, despite the tension of the moment, carried calm. The sorrow Cinderpaw had seen before was gone, or at least, it seemed so.

What was Fireheart thinking about right then?

“Fireheart, I…”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. I scared you. It was my fault. I don’t know what came over me. I took those herbs without thinking, and I lost control. I… I frightened you. I’m truly sorry…”

Cinderpaw felt an ache hollow out her chest. She didn’t know how to respond. She was still shivering from the cold, and Fireheart let out a long sigh, lowering his head.

“I’m the… the idiot here.”

Cinderpaw lifted his head gently with her paw and squinted, managing to see the confused expression on the warrior’s face.

“I… think something’s wrong with me, but I don’t really know what it is. I’m not good at getting close to new cats. I already told you what it was like when I first joined the Clan, and I guess I’m just making the she-cats I’ve befriended lately angry again.”

Cinderpaw blinked.

“Am I… doing something that bothers you, Cinderpaw? Please, tell me. I’m not good at understanding your feelings.”

Cinderpaw’s heart pounded hard. Her lower lip trembled, unsure of what to say. Her pupils widened, and her chest warmed again as she looked into the compassionate, though confused, eyes of her former mentor.

Her friend, who was also the tom she was forbidden to love.

And above all, she knew someone else already loved him too… but he seemed to struggle to show his emotions.

She thought of all the times Sandstorm had approached Fireheart, how she spoke to him, how he reacted, and how, in the end, Fireheart always seemed confused.

And when Cinderpaw tried to approach him to talk, she always grew shy. When she walked away, she’d look back to see him with his ears lowered and smiling, and she’d tell herself everything was fine, even if her words had been clumsy.

But now, she could see that same silly smile up close.

A smile that reflected total uncertainty. And above it, those green eyes that only sought to understand the heart of the she-cat in front of him.

The fire in Cinderpaw’s heart ignited her emotions again. She inhaled deeply and released the air in a rush, pressing her head against Fireheart’s chest, hugging him tightly, feeling his paws wrap around her as he continued to lick her head.

The river still splashed droplets over them both, and Cinderpaw felt true terror at the thought of dying.

She had let herself be carried away by the thoughts that had long stopped her from believing in herself, the same thoughts that pushed her to fail without realizing it. The same thoughts that had forbidden her from confessing her love.

Those same thoughts…

Why?

Why did she want them to return, even though she didn’t feel them anymore?

It was the only question in the mind of the drenched apprentice, who, clinging to her mentor’s chest, felt him purr and exhale a warm sigh, giving her the affection she had longed for so deeply.

For the first time, with her ear pressed to his heart, she listened to the steady, gentle beat… of the warrior she loved so much.

Should she be content with that? Should she accept that she could never be with the tom she loved? Should she let him be happy with Sandstorm?

Should she hate how good it felt to receive his closeness and care?

Her cheeks lifted slightly without meaning to, blurring her view of his thick orange fur. She felt droplets on her face, different from the river’s spray.

Tears.

She didn’t want to stop loving him.

She didn’t want to.

She didn’t want to, didn’t want to, didn’t want to.

“Fireheart… I…”

Cinderpaw lifted her head, and Fireheart instinctively drew his muzzle back, their noses brushing by accident as they faced each other.

One with a confused expression, trying to calm the strange unease that tormented him every time he spoke to his former apprentice; the other, with tears streaming down her face, biting her chin to keep from looking like a helpless kit in front of him.

Everything was wrong. But no matter how much she wanted to, her uncertain thoughts would no longer come to save her.

The catnip had been just an excuse. What she truly wanted… was his love.

Not to have it for a moment—

She wanted it more than anything.

She wanted to be the one who could love him openly before everyone. That she-cat… that was who she wanted to be.

She wanted to, even if the moment lasted only a second… she would make it happen.

She would make it real.

“Fireheart…”

“Yes…?”

And with a more resolute gaze, digging her claws into the ground, she meowed to speak her truth.

“You… I—”

“I saw you.”

Behind them, a silhouette appeared between the bushes, tail flicking. Her yellow ears and tawny fur reflected nobility in her stride, her clean, smooth coat standing in stark contrast to the muddy, wet body of her rival.

The she-cat smiled faintly.

“Cinderpaw! Are you all right?”

Sandstorm had appeared at the worst possible moment.

Cinderpaw turned her head slightly, watching as the warrior approached slowly, noticing how Fireheart was still holding her in his paws, cradling her like a kit.

Sandstorm let out a worried purr, her ears perked as she looked at Fireheart, his paws still dripping wet.

“Is everything all right? Did something happen?”

At that moment, Fireheart lifted his head, looking from one to the other.

He fixed his gaze on Sandstorm for a long moment, wearing an expression Cinderpaw couldn’t quite understand. His eyes were wide, as was his muzzle; his whiskers were tense, but his ears were lowered.

A face completely unlike the one Fireheart usually showed her.

“So? What happened, then? Is Cinderpaw all right?”

Fireheart turned back to Cinderpaw and closed his eyes, standing up and stepping away from her as he nodded.

“Cinderpaw just fell into the river. It was my fault. Sorry.”

Cinderpaw’s whole back tensed, a shiver running down her legs.

Sandstorm tilted her head and brushed her tail along the warrior’s muzzle, wrapping it briefly around his neck before lowering it.

“It’s best we go back. Fireheart, you’re not a good swimmer. You need to be more careful.”

Why…?

Sandstorm helped Fireheart to his paws, and he began to walk beside her, leaving Cinderpaw sitting there, still soaked, watching as the warrior led him away. The orange tom’s gaze was fixed on nothing.

Cinderpaw opened her mouth, trying to speak, anything. She stood up but felt her hind leg tighten from the cramp.

“M-My leg… i-it hurts…” she managed to say through tears, trying to rub it with her front paws, trembling slightly.

Sandstorm turned to look at her and narrowed her eyes, glancing at Fireheart.

But he, in turn, closed his mouth, regaining some of the light in his eyes, and looked directly at Sandstorm. She watched him silently, and then Fireheart shook his head, brushing off her tail.

He ran toward Cinderpaw and lifted her carefully, letting her lean against his side.

“Sandstorm, Cinderpaw’s injured. Please help me carry her.”

Sandstorm twitched her ears and, letting out a long sigh, looked straight at Cinderpaw.

It was then that the new doubt in Cinderpaw’s heart became a little clearer.

Why didn’t Sandstorm seem jealous or angry?

Sandstorm smiled warmly and nodded at Fireheart’s words. She moved to Cinderpaw’s other side, letting her walk more steadily, supported by both of them.

And during the entire walk, none of them said a word.

Cinderpaw, at least, didn’t feel capable of speaking.

Her heart was pounding, and when Yellowfang received her back at the medicine den, she licked her head. Cinderpaw chose not to talk and lay down in her nest, wishing she could fall asleep as quickly as possible.

Now, with a new insecurity growing in her small heart.

***

Since that incident, Cinderpaw had limited herself to tending to the patients who came in with small injuries, mostly kits and apprentices. Longtail had an itch in his ears and needed a dose of mouse bile. Other than that, the day went as usual.

At least, that’s how the last five days had been.

Cinderpaw hadn’t dared to look at Fireheart, not fully understanding what had happened that night.

Her head was full of confusion, trying to make sense of something that perhaps wasn’t even her business.

Sandstorm’s smile, Fireheart’s stunned expression… none of it left her mind.

“Hey, wake up already!”

A meow snapped her out of her thoughts. Behind her, Yellowfang gave her a light smack on the left ear while inspecting the leg that had cramped. Cinderpaw lowered her ears and sighed. But her mentor didn’t like that reaction.

“What’s wrong with you? Ever since you came back all wet and muddy, you’ve been in a foul mood.”

Cinderpaw chose not to respond.

No one would understand what she was thinking.

No one.

“It’s about Fireheart, isn’t it?”

“What?”

Cinderpaw spun around, her face flushed red as her ears flicked nervously, exposed. Yellowfang stared mercilessly, a mischievous spark in her eyes, before giving her a firm tap on the head. Cinderpaw instinctively covered herself with both paws, caught between surprise and embarrassment.

“Yes… it’s pretty obvious,” said the medicine cat, snorting. “And maybe I’m not the only one who’s noticed. When you’re a medicine cat, everyone eventually spills their secrets, even the kits.”

Cinderpaw perked her ears, watching her mentor sit in front of her with a long sigh.

“Sandstorm’s in love with Fireheart, and so are you. But Fireheart… he hasn’t chosen either of you, has he? What a charmer.”

“N-No! Fireheart isn’t like that, I swear. I promise! He’s not—”

Yellowfang didn’t need to say a word. She just looked toward the entrance of the den, where two figures were crossing in with prey hanging from their jaws. Graystripe and Fireheart were returning, chatting as if it were just another ordinary day.

“Your prince charming seems to be having a good day.”

Cinderpaw lowered her gaze, unable to hide the knot tightening in her throat.

“But, from where I’m standing…” Yellowfang added in her usual blunt tone, “that fool doesn’t even know what he feels. He worries so much about everyone else that he never stops to ask what he wants.”

“W-What?”

Cinderpaw lifted her head, confused. Yellowfang gave a faint smile and, with a motherly gesture, placed her paw on her apprentice’s head, ruffling her fur roughly.

“That tom… he’s a good cat. And I know he’ll go far. But in this Clan, as you already know, there are rules. Rules that bind us, even when we don’t agree with them. I, for example, disagree with a few, but I wouldn’t dare go against StarClan. And I don’t think Fireheart would, either.”

Cinderpaw rose silently and walked toward the entrance of the den. The golden sunlight wrapped around her completely, warm against her damp back. She shook herself forcefully, releasing the breath she’d been holding in her chest.

There, in front of the fresh-kill pile, she saw Fireheart carefully placing his catch with the rest of the prey.

He looked… happy.

“Even if no one notices, he’s still uncertain,” said Yellowfang behind her. “He’s a good cat, Cinderpaw. That’s exactly why no one gets too close. Because he’s young, inexperienced… because it’s frightening how much he still doesn’t understand. Only a young she-cat would have the courage to take that first step. And the first one to confess her love will probably win his heart.”

Cinderpaw blinked, absorbing every word as though they were hard to swallow.

“Fireheart… is still a dreamer,” Yellowfang continued calmly. “But he’s in love, even if he doesn’t realize it. If he doesn’t figure it out soon, he’ll just let destiny choose for him.”

Suddenly, everything made sense.

Sandstorm.

The serene smile, the calm way she moved that day, her complete lack of jealousy, it hadn’t been indifference. It was certainty. She already knew she had won, no matter what.

She was the only she-cat with the Clan’s approval who could love Fireheart freely, without judgment.

A chill ran through Cinderpaw’s body, from her paws to her ears, forcing her to cling to that thought like a branch in a river current.

Then… there’s nothing I can do?

She lowered her gaze, defeated, but then looked up at her mentor once more. Yellowfang met her eyes, stretched calmly, and spoke in the voice she used only when she allowed herself to be honest.

“They say destiny always favors what StarClan wants. But that’s exactly why I disagree.”

Cinderpaw stayed silent, facing her.

“Everyone has the right to choose their own fate. That… is the true meaning of life.”

Without warning, Yellowfang flicked Cinderpaw’s nose with her bushy tail and nudged her back toward the den.

“Now go and sort every herb. One by one. Check which are still good and which need to be thrown out. Move it.”

Cinderpaw twitched her ears, ready to obey, but before she could take a step, she heard her mentor’s low voice, muttering with a crooked smile,

“You’re going to need tonight off… aren’t you?”

The forest’s scent filled her senses, mixed with the dust of the cave. And maybe… just maybe… something got into her eye, because a tear slid down her cheek as she bit her lip and nodded firmly.

She threw herself toward Yellowfang, hugging her for a brief instant. The old medicine cat grunted but pushed her away gently, flicking her tail.

“Back to work! Go on!”

“Yes!” Cinderpaw replied, wiping her tears at once.