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Duststorm
The last thing Shinefang remembered as he curled up in his nest for the night was the sound of crickets in the woods and much nearer shuffling of cats in dens around Skyclan territory as they settled in their nests for the night. The day had been tiring, but he had managed to get himself settled in the medicine den and check what supplies he might need to restock. He wished he had a more thorough knowledge of herbs. He could really only guess what was needed, they he knew that catmint was key in leafbare... a chilling image of his mother curled up in her nest, burning with fever and hacking nonstop flitted through his mind just as he drifted off.
When he woke, the feeling of simply being was so startlingly different, that he started and cried out. "What? Where?" He looked around and saw the lush green of a field that seemed to be made of light. It was more gorgeous than anything he'd seen. His body was utterly devoid of any of the aches he had grown used to in his joints from just daily work, and his body seemed to buzz with strange, lightness and giddy ease. Suddenly, the tom realized where he was. "Oh foxdung, I'm in Starclan," the medicine cat huffed with indignation and sat on his haunches as he called out to no one in particular. "Hey! I had better not be dead. My clan needs me and I'll claw up the first mousebrain who thinks I'm leaving now." As if to prove he was serious, Shinefang unsheathed his claws as he stood waiting for the cat dumb enough to think he'd go quietly.