There's an alarming discovery in the medicine cat's den.

Beesong is putting away the herbs he'd been out collecting when he smells it. Spiderfall. His paws slow in their sorting, brows furrowing against widened eyes. Spiderfall has been here. Why? What business did he have in here? To visit? The warrior has never shown any interest in Ashpaw or Pumpkinpaw.

Admittedly, the medicine cat has always been... put off by Spiderfall. There is this wrench in his gut whenever he is around the other tom, as if his own body is trying to warn him of something. But Beesong has never seen any physical evidence, so he'd never questioned it further, simply opting to avoid Spiderfall to the best of his ability. Even still, Beesong scours his herb storage, scrutinizing each and every leaf for any sign that they'd been tampered with.

He finds nothing odd about his herbs. But the unrelenting sensation of, something is wrong, will not leave.

And now, their paws carry them out of the den before they could think, murmuring a hushed, "I think I've dropped some herbs on the way home; I'll be back," to Ashpaw before they duck out of the hollow. They need to talk to Spiderfall.

They invite the warrior out on a walk with them, the lie that they'd feel safer with a warrior chaperone slipping from their tongue as easily as water does from a duck's back. It's believable, they think, with the twoleg infestation RiverClan is troubled with. They say that they need to clear their head, that being cooped up in a den that smelled of herbs isn't good for the sinuses. All as deceitful as the calmness that masks their expression, the smile that they offer Spiderfall. It is practiced and poised, unwavering even as their heart begins to pound in their ear once they've left the sanctuary of camp.

The walk begins with idle small talk; the weather, how the prey's been running, what herbs they've collected recently. It is steady and calculated, as if they are lulling their prey into a false sense of security. And they hope that they are truly the predator and not the prey.

After a pause in the conversation, Beesong finally asks, "Did you visit recently? The medicine den, I mean." There is not a hint of accusation within their voice. The cinnamon tabby smiles, as innocent as a fawn, blinking up at the taller feline.



How odd it was for Beesong to request the warrior's help, for all he knew the medicine cat despised the tom, which...could go in both ways. Spiderfall was not a fan of the other, and in fact, Spiderfall tends to avoid Beesong at all costs. He hated being near the medicine cat, the scent that clung to their fur and the uneasy feeling that got underneath the fur, so it would seem in all fairness that it went both way and by the stars he wanted the other gone but it would be more suspicious if the medicine cat showed up injured, or dead versus that of an apprentice or normal warrior.

Amber eyes darkened as he followed close behind, wondering why he had been chosen to come along just to collect herbs, and sharing small talk with them but it was clear there was something that Beesong had on the tip of their tongue, and it soon the other showed what their reasoning for bringing him out with them on their journey. A soft hmph noise came out as he paused, his gaze meeting the smaller creature while his bobbed tail flicked before he sighed a bit. Calculating an excuse before shrugging. "Frostpaw complained about having a cough, went to tell you but you weren't there" he stated smoothly, keeping eye contact with the other.

What a great excuse, using his own little shadow to weave lies upon lies, entangling the girl within them. He tilted his head a bit while looking down at the other (in more ways than one). "Perhaps you should ask the she-cat about it. Busy focusing on two cats seems like a pawful for you that a third felt it would be too much to ask for herbs" he said with a soft chuckle before deciding to make the first paw step to continue walking, keeping his pace slow so the other can easily catch up with the tom. Dead leaves crunched underneath the weight of his paws and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why did you think I visit, Beesong?" his tone dropped and came colder, and venom seemed to linger like a bitter touch to the tom's words, he put a lot of disgust in saying the medicine cat's name, showing his obvious distaste of the other.