Warrior Cats Illnesses Novels & Stories

The large man said with what could only be described as an ‘I told you so’ look. “What about you?” Doc asked Jill. “Are werecats the same way?” Gunny laughed and Jill shook his head. “No. We do have mates, but we are not tied to them like wolves are. And my breed is very…” “He’s a damned tomcat,” Gunny supplied. “Given half the chance, he’ll fuck you and Jack at the same time. And then prowl afterwards.” “I would not,” Jill objected. “I would have a snack and then go prowl.”

This was a rare phenomenon because other werewolf kingdoms had a handful of omegas, which were weak and couldn’t fight or defend themselves. This was a good thing hence no one was treated so badly because a beta or Gamma could push up his training skills and become an Alpha. Then suddenly calamity befell our kingdom. A strange illness ravished the land. Clans and packs were suddenly dying like chickens. They would bleed from their eyes and nose and the last straw that would break the camel’s back is that, they would sweat so much till they die.

A heavy silence filled the entire pack as the strange illness spread like wildfire across all families. Wolves of all ranks were falling sick. Even the strong warriors, elderly council members, down to the young pups were all affected. The healers were overwhelmed, their herbs and treatments barely making a difference. The scent of sickness filled everywhere, mixing with the ever-growing tension that already existed in the pack’s palace due to the ascension issue.

They looked broken, half-dead in the rain. Good thing I brought them home. That's what saved them. They stored energy, slept for years, kept evolving in this twisted timeline—and produced an even stronger next generation. They hid the glitches. To everyone else, they were just regular house cats. Until the apocalypse hit. Their powers rebooted. Same game. Different round. I'd barely finished processing that when noise flared outside. "Where are those cats? Hand them over!" Alan stood there with a crowd behind him. Three massive crocodiles sprawled at his feet.

“The meeting was impromptu, considering it graced with my appearance. What is it all about? And please start with something that I don't already know.'' I begged them, everyone knew I was tired of the same song and dance, there was no way I was going to discuss a wedding night in front of everyone again. I would rather die. “Our men, they seem to be growing weaker by the day, some sort of illness…'' one of my uncles started, his voice very grim, he was in charge of our warriors and I trusted him fully with that even though I didn't like him, “it spreads fast too, a quarter of our men have been affected, and the wolves are down to. The healers are having a look at it, but no cure yet.” I froz

Bianca turns her glare to look at me. The Warrior whimpers in pain, his sounds sounding wolf-like instead of human. It makes my skin crawl to listen to it. His canine teeth turn sharp as he growls at anyone who gets near him, his nails turning long and curved. “Me? How is this my fault?” I ask, moving towards Bianca as Lily grabs nearby medicine to help ease some of the pain that the Warrior wolf must be feeling. Nurses and other Healers begin to swarm the hospital room, no doubt it is because of the screams and howls of the Warrior’s cries.

Some sort of sickness has started to seep through the pack, infecting our warriors. It began small, only a few coughs, a few pairs of tired eyes, but now it's more. Day by day, the warriors grow weaker, slower; it drains them of their strength. They're trying to hide it, but I can see how it's taking its toll on them. And the worst part? This is all my fault, or so it would seem. I stand at the window, my gaze drifting out into the yard below where a group of warriors gathers. Their voices carry up to me-low murmurs interlaced with confusion and frustration. They do not know what is happening, but in my bones, I feel that they are beginning to doubt.

Rowan answered with a quivering voice, “Hah, yeah, they hit it off quite well.” Cordelia smiled politely and stopped talking, thinking that the man’s gaze was a little odd. However, Rowan took the initiative to talk to her. “What’s the matter with your cat? Is it sick?” “It's been acting quite lethargic these two days and doesn’t have an appetite.” “Oh…” Rowan tried his best to come up with a topic. “Taking care of pets is like taking care of children. You worry about everything. Once they’re ill, we get sad too…”

The conditions I’d found here were appalling, worse than I’d imagined even in my darkest estimations. The young cubs were severely malnourished, their ribs visible through thin skin, their eyes too large in gaunt faces. Their growth would be permanently stunted if they didn’t get proper nutrition soon. The older werewolves suffered from infected sores and untreated chronic conditions that would have been easily managed with basic medical care. Respiratory infections, dental problems, parasites, ailments that shouldn’t exist in a pack with Silver Crest’s resources.

His words silenced the elders. “We have lost many of our men. Several Predators died, and we are left with only a few Tigers. Domineering Tiger and Beastly Tiger are the only Tigers who escaped unscathed in battle today. All others are either dead or indisposed. Some have left the village. The only Predators we have left are Unbound Mongoose and Blistering Cheetah, who may be permanently injured by the looks of things. Tell me, against someone who can deal with the Resurrection Cat, which of these men stand a chance”