It was an average day. I was sitting in my den, organizing herbs. That was when it happened.
I had no idea what had caused it, but I knew the Clan had to be evacuated.
AshClan moved quickly out of the camp. Several were injured. Some were dying.
Most of the cats were gone, but some weren't. Apprentice Linkpaw and warrior Grapeheart were still in the camp, as well as myself.
Suddenly, the exit from the camp was enveloped in flames.
We quickly looked for a way to get out of the camp. There was one exit, but it would take us away from our Clan.
But that didn't matter. We were out of time.
We ran to the exit and fled toward a stream. That was when I noticed the strange way Linkpaw was moving.
I padded toward the gray tabby apprentice and told him to lay down.
That was when I saw the injury.
Linkpaw's entire stomach had been torn open. Just a small layer of flesh held him together. I had to act fast.
"Grapeheart!" I shouted to the black she-cat. "I need thick weeds, spiderweb, a sharp rock, and water-soaked moss. Hurry!"
It didn't take long for Grapeheart to fetch me the supplies.
Winding the weeds together, I made a thick string of weeds. Piercing the rock through the weeds, I proceded to close Linkpaw's wound.
I had to be careful. One bad move, Linkpaw's stomach would split open, and he would die in a matter of seconds.
I stitched the wound carefully. After a few moments, I was done.
The next day, we met back up with our Clan. There were so many injured. I'd immediately started instructing others how to treat the wounds.
After a while, everybody had been treated. And that's exactly when I felt that something was wrong.
I sniffed the air. A smell of fur and fish hit me.
That was when the bear crashed through the trees.