Fisheyes Backstory

"Are you sure about this, Mousespeck?"

Mousespeck twitched her nose, glancing up from the herbs she'd been carefully inspecting. "Of course I'm sure. I used to be the medicine cat, remember?"

"Medicine cat apprentice." Fisheyes frowned. "Who didn't know what she was doing."

"Well, that's not exactly true. It just wasn't... for me." Mousespeck waved a paw nonchalantly, a few herbs carefully spiked on her claw. "But that's where you come in."

"Mousespeck..." Fisheyes sighed. She was her best friend in the world - they'd been friends since kithood; they'd even switched into each other's duties as apprentices - but this still felt... wrong.

But who could they trust if they couldn't trust Mousespeck? She could ignore her reservations... for now, anyway. She could feel guilty after the fact. Mousespeck had rationalized this dozens of times, and to be perfectly honest, everything she'd said had made sense. Why should they let a faulty medicine cat run about unchallenged, waiting until the day he grew old and joined StarClan to be rid of him? He'd faked prophecies, let the lives of cats he'd deemed unfit quietly slip away in the dusty old medicine den, undermined their leader time and time again - and as his apprentices, they were the only ones who'd even caught on. The only ones who could do something about it. And... Fisheyes would make a much better medicine cat than he was, wouldn't she?

She supposed they would find out soon enough.

-

The day had come. The Gathering. Most cats would be out of camp, and they'd have the cover of darkness on their side. They hadn't been entirely sure tonight would actually work - medicine cats were supposed to attend Gatherings, afterall, even if theirs usually didn't. Normally he sent Fisheyes - and with them pretending to stay back at camp sick with a fever, they weren't sure if he would go in her place.

But, fortunately, he remained disloyal in their favour.

Mousespeck didn't seem at all nervous - it was a bit unlike her. But she supposed that made sense - she wasn't usually chosen for the Gathering, anyway; she was a bit too... Mousespeck to bring in front of the other Clans. But more than that, she wasn't doing the most crucial part of the plan. That was all on them.

"...And you're absolutely sure about this, Mousespeck?" She turned to her companion, who was carefully slipping the herbs into the plumpest vole from the freshkill pile. Mousespeck had caught it herself - which was quite the feat, given how skittish she could be outside of camp. They were sure she'd chosen that one on purpose.

"Yes, of course I'm sure." Mousespeck purred, voice a little too silky. They were beneath the same tree they'd been apprenticed under, just to make sure they were concealed by darkness. Fisheyes' fur prickled slightly.

"Alright, just... pass it over. I want to get this over with."

Mousespeck slid over the vole discreetly - more calmly than they'd ever seen her do anything. It was a little eerie. Usually she was a bit more aloof... but they shook it off. They could worry about that later.

When Fisheyes slid into the medicine den, they made sure to slow their step - a light limp, even, to make their sickness believable. She could see him now - a dark lump in the corner, grumbling as he sifted through herbs. Her heart skipped a beat - had he noticed what was missing? - but she forced herself to smush it down. Of course he didn't. Nobody regularly stock checked the poisons.

"Um... Tornthroat?" They tried to assure themself that their breathlessness just made their illness more believable.

"Hmrph?"

"I, ah... I brought you a snack. I don't think you've left this den all day." She murmured, nudging the vole towards his paws.

He glanced at it, and for an agonizing few seconds, her breath was trapped in her throat and her heart thrashed like a bird beneath claws.

But then his features softened. "Ah, thank you. You've always been so thoughtful."

He leaned down to take a bite. "You know, kid, I've always known you were the right cat for this job. Your friend had always had the smarts, but you've got the compassion." He slowly chewed the vole, gazing off thoughtfully. "Takes a lot more than rattlin' off a list of herbs to make it in this line of work."

Fisheyes suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "I-I, um... thank you... that means a lot."

He dipped his head, eyes warm. They took this as their chance to tuck their tail and get out of their, fur bristling with guilt.

-

"Fisheyes."

Their leader's voice was stern, and they flinched under its tone.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" They sat in the branches of the tree she and Mousespeck had sat under just a day prior. Her heart ached at the thought of never sitting here again.

"I..." She glanced from the corner of her eye at Mousespeck, who sat at the fringes of the gathered Clan. She looked cool and collected, her tail wrapped neatly around her paws and her face as solemn as the rest of the cats. They weren't sure if they were only imagining the glittering apology in her eyes.

"I don't. I'm sorry." They dipped their head, if only to avoid the scathing gaze of their soon-to-be-ex leader.

"Then this is goodbye." They grumbled lowly, flicking their tail towards the camp entrance. Or, in this case, exit. "If you're caught on our territory after sunrise, you understand that any necessary measures will be taken."

Fisheyes nodded numbly, taking one last glance around camp. Most cats gave them hard stares back, some refused to look at her.

Only Mousespeck looked back coolly. She'd gone without blame. She would become the Clan's new medicine cat.

And with her best friend gone, nobody would ever know the truth.