BLURB↴

❝Curiosity didn't kill this cat❞

Hattie was curious from the moment she opened her eyes - or that's what she could say if she could remember such a time. Her memory only stretch's back to her first days with her new twolegs. From there, her life has been the same. Now she is determined to change this, and her curiosity takes her too far.

The forest was gone for good. That's why the Clans left. But the forest is made of things which grow. Trees and bushes and plants and prey which will not remain silent and dead forever. Something has to follow the destruction, the pick up where the clans left off, to live in the wake of mud and mess which the twolegs left behind.

But can a kittypet, taught only by the elders which the clans left behind, survive in what's left of the forest?

(This was it's own book, but let's face it, it's never gonna be finished)

COVER↴

(This was made by @-sageheart and even tho I've taken the book down, I still want to show this off ^.^)

AESTHETIC↴

Also by @-sageheart

CHAPTER ONE↴

The land surrounding the white picket fence bordering Hattie's home was barren and bare. Tree stumps dotted the ground, and though many of their trunks had been gathered up, their leaves still surrounded them, crushed into the mud. Hattie wrinkled her nose at the almost unbearable stench of the thunderpath which snaked around her nest.

"I wonder if they'll build more nests." Said Smudge from below her. The plump tom crouched and then sprang up to the top of the fence beside Hattie. His back paws scrambled in mid-air for a few seconds as he clumsily pulled himself the rest of the way.

Hattie purred in amusement. "You should come explore with me sometime." She said. "You could do with some exercise." She didn't notice how Smudge winced at her unconscious jab at his weight.

"I'm fine." Said Smudge quickly, self-consciously grooming his chest.

Hattie wriggled closer to him so their pelts touched. "I wonder if it would have been fun to live in the forest." She asked, pricking her ears. It was still strange hearing only the shrinking river in the distance and no birdsong.

"Even if it were still here I wouldn't." Said Smudge. "You saw what it did to Rusty."

"But he seemed to like it – you saw how he looked when he spoke of the warrior code and looking after his clan" Hattie sighed dreamily.

"You're not thinking about how hard it would be." Said Smudge bluntly. "They have to sleep out it the cold and catch their own food..."

"Yes but-" Hattie struggled to find a way to express her feelings.

"Anyway, the forest is gone now, Rusty's gone too." A sharp impatient tone had edged its way into Smudges voice.

Hattie dug her claws into the white paint of the fence, well aware that her twolegs hated the marks they left in the smooth white coating.

"But wouldn't it be fun?" She asked, leaning into Smudge and keeping her eyes glued to the muddy wasteland. "If the forest was still there I think I'd go and explore it."

"You just want to worry your twolegs." Said Smudge. "What has gotten into you lately?"

"I don't know how you don't see; they're treating us like objects."

"Hattie." Said Smudge warningly, as she leaned over the side of the fence.

"I'll be back soon." She said, flicking her tail carelessly, and jumping down to the ground. "I want to go and explore."

Smudge sighed. "Okay, be back before dark!"

Hattie swished her tail. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't. You can see a lot more when it's dark."

"It'll be dark." Protested Smudge. "You won't be able to see a thing."

"You only look outside from your twoleg nest." Muttered Hattie. "I'm going to see if there are any real trees this side of anywhere."

"You have tree's right in your back yard."

Hattie shrugged. "I like my scratching tree, but it's being controlled by the twolegs too."

"This is stupid." Smudge growled, scrambling back down from the fence. "I'll see you tomorrow when you've grown some common sense."

"Bye Smudge!" Hattie called. Her friend didn't answer, so she sighed and decided that she might as well be exploring, if he wasn't going to be any fun.

She kept her eyes peeled for a ginger pelt amongst the brown and grey undergrowth, even though Smudge had told her he had seen them leave. After only a few paw steps away from her twoleg nest, the harsh orange light had faded, leaving space for the softer, more subtle light of the stars and rising moon to bathe her tabby pelt.

Most of the tree stumps she was surrounded by were big enough for her to curl up on top of, but as she continued deeper into the forest, they became even larger. She reached a hollow in the ground, surrounded by four tree stumps so large they took her breath away. She yelped in pain as she walked closer to one, and lifted her foot off the ground. Clinging to her soft pads was a fine white powder. When she looked closer, she realised it was many small chunks of rock. She winced and licked them off, gently placing her paw back on the ground.

Once she had picked her way back to the middle of the hollow, she stood still, imagining tree's rising above her. It gave her a sense of security, but as she stood there, a stronger sense of loss. She wondered if it was where the forest cats had used to live, but somehow she knew it was different. Still feeling a little sad, it was when she was padding back to her twoleg nest that her curiosity returned.

Turning around, Hattie walked all the way to the river. Here it looked like the twolegs had left it alone a little. Though the trees had still been cut down, there were rocks jutting out of the riverbed. Hattie stood on the edge of them and looked down. She gasped, surprised at how low the water was. She slipped and tumbled a tail length or more down to the water, glad that the twolegs had drained it so she didn't get wet.

Across the river looked much better. The trees still stood tall and green, and she wondered why the cats didn't live there. But it backed onto a twolegs nest and she remembered how scared Rusty had been of twolegs. Stupid really, Hattie thought as she considered her twolegs. They were annoying and controlling but not worth fear.

There was enough room on the stretch of land across the river for a few cats at least. She wondered if Rusty was there. Downstream the water separated around a patch of stones which jutted high out of the water. Hattie walked to them, and crouched down, ready to jump. Glad she wasn't as clumsy as Smudge, she sprung across, landing squarely on top of the rock.

On the next one, she slipped and had to dig her claws in and pull herself up. Smoothing out her pelt, she prepared to leap across. Hattie was glad when her paws hit the bank on the other side. The ground was slippery with dried river slime, and she quickly stepped higher up. Her way was blocked by a wall of sedge bushes, but, wanting to see what lay behind, Hattie clawed her way up and slid down to the other side.

She found herself in a spacious area, surrounded by thick bushes and trees, the river was loud here, and she wondered how any cat could ever sleep around the noise. She could smell wood smoke in the air, the kind which came from a twoleg nest when they lit the burn-box in autumn. It gave the air a frosty tang which made her shiver and remind herself that she would be back in her twoleg nest that night, sitting by their own burn-box and keeping warm.

Under the smell of wood smoke, she thought she smelt cats. She pricked her ears and looked around curiously.

"Kitty pet." Rasped a voice from the shadows. Hattie flattened her ears, startled.

"Who are you?" she meowed, a little nervous.

A she-cat stepped out of the shadows. She was painfully thin and frail. Her bones stuck through her pale tabby pelt, even though it was fluffed up. Each breath rattled through her as though it was an effort. Hattie could tell she was starving. She saw a glimmer of light from behind her. Three other peers of eyes shone out at her.

"You're not welcome here." Growled one. A brown tom stepped out to stand beside the she-cat. He had the look of a cat once strong but now wasted away. Despite this, he wasn't someone Hattie wanted to get on the wrong side of. Suddenly, she could believe Smudges stories of the wild cats in the woods.

"I'm called Hattie." She said, trying to sound friendly. "I was exploring the forest."

"You're treating our forest as a game." said the pale tabby, her pelt relaxing when she realized that Hattie was a housecat. "When it was our home for as long as any cat could remember." her voice broke and she turned away.

"Are you clan cats?" Hattie asked curiously.

"Were." corrected a grey she-cat, eyeing her suspiciously.

Hattie dipped her head, trying to copy Rusty and look respectful. "Can you tell me about your clan?"

The brown tom shook his head. "We can't; there is nothing left."

"I-I though the clans look after each other. Why are you here alone? Did the others die?"

"They might as well be dead." Hissed Frostfur. "Your twolegs have ruined our home." She spat.

"But don't you want the clan's memory to carry on? I will remember everything you tell me, and I'll repay you." Hattie said eagerly. This was an adventure.

"We don't need your help." Hissed the tabby. She looked like she was going to lunge at Hattie but a white she-cat laid a tail on her shoulder.

"Speckletail, it's a good offer, we don't want our memory's to be lost."

The tabby-Speckletail-continued to glare. "She's a kittypet. Even if she wasn't lazy and fat she wouldn't be able to hunt." Hattie flattened herself to the ground, offended and a little scared.

"We both know that's not true." Said the white she-cat. "If you can learn to hunt then we will tell you about the clans."

Speckletail hissed, her tail whipping back and forth. Hattie tensed ready to run if Speckletail disagreed. "I can learn." She said at once. She winced at the thought of eating a mouthful of feathers and raw meat, but she was curious, and it would only be for a few days.

The white she-cat limped forwards and said, "We accept." she paused, daring any of the other cat's to disagree. When no one said anything she continued.

"My name is Frostfur." she rasped. "This is Speckletail." she gestured to the pale tabby, who glared reproachfully at Hattie.

"We shouldn't accept help so easily." she grumbled.

Frostfur rolled her eyes and pointed at the dark brown tom next to her. "That's Loudbelly." she said, "And she's Shadepelt." She nodded at the dark grey cat.

Hattie ran the names through in her head, Speckletail, Loudbelly, Shadepelt, and Frostfur. It scared her by how weak they all looked but she touched noses with each cat as they directed her to do.

"Thank you." she said uncertainly.

Frostfur shrugged. "You may not thank us after you understand what we mean." She said. "You will learn to hunt and fight for us, and we will teach you about the clans."

"If she's up to it." Growled Speckletail.

"Loudbelly is the strongest." Frostfur continued loudly. "He will teach you to hunt."

"Okay." Said Hattie nervously. She was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself in to.

Loudbelly flicked his tail at her. "There is not a moment to loose." He rasped. He walked calmly across the clearing, and nosed his way through an entrance Hattie hadn't noticed. Just outside, they came to a halt. Hattie found herself standing in a small clearing; the river must have been on the opposite side. "This is the hunting crouch." Loudbelly said, demonstrating.

Hattie's whiskers twitched in amusement. He looks like a big duck. She thought. Loudbelly was looking at her sternly; he had noticed her amusement.

"I am a Riverclan cat, I am used to fishing." He explained. "But this is how you hunt. You need to learn." He sighed, his breath smelling like carrion.

Hattie flinched away from the smell. "I'm sure I can find something." She said uncertainly. She was beginning to worry that this time her curiosity had brought her too far. She shrugged. Serves Smudge right. She thought viciously.

Loudbelly nodded, although he didn't look hopeful. Hattie walked away from the camp, opening her mouth wide and drawing in air over her scent glands. She had never smelt mouse before, but she was sure she would recognize it.

Before long, a wall blocked her path. She walked along the grass which climbed up it. Some of it stood free of the wall, and wavered gently back and forth in the cool breeze. Hattie sniffed at it, seeing if she could scent something. The grass tickled her nose, and she sneezed, batting it with a paw.

Behind her, the bushes rustled, and she padded forwards to sniff them. Crouching, she tried to imitate the hunters crouch, but she felt ridiculous, and didn't know what she was stalking, so she stood back up and stuck her nose into the leaves. At first, she could only scent the loamy smell damp earth, but then she caught a whiff of carrion. It was a dead bird, its body writhing with maggots. Her stomach turned, and she quickly backed away.

She couldn't do it. There was nothing. Nothing for her to try and hunt and no chance she would catch anything if there was. Gulping, she lept to the top of the wall, balancing along it, over the river and to her twoleg nest. There was no way she could help the forest cats, she would just have to calm her curiosity and pretend nothing had happened.

She sat outside her twoleg nest, knowing that there was someone inside because of the light at the window. She yowled loudly, but it took more than a few heart beats for anyone to let her in. She sat down in her nest, looking glumly at the ceiling. The twoleg nest was stifling hot, and she went to get a drink, but the water tasted metallic. The thought of clan cats would not leave her mind.

Finally, she stood up again, unable to sleep. She groomed her pelt, tasting the scent of the forest on her tongue. She should go back, but they would know she had left by now. Tired, Hattie finally managed to sleep. She woke up mid-morning, when the twolegs began to move around in the nest. Smudge was sitting washing by the window of his nest, but for once Hattie didn't feel like sharing her adventure with him.

She wandered around her nest, looking for something to do. She chased the flies which flew around the roof and played with the twoleg kit. Still, boredom buzzed around her ears like a beehive had been disturbed directly above her head. She pushed her way outside behind the twolegs as they went to get in their monster.

Stretching in the sun, Hattie sighed. She caught the scent of the sap from her scratching tree, and ran her claws down it. She couldn't help noticing how small it was compared to the remaining forest trees, and how smooth its bark was, except where her claws had marked it.

"Hattie!" Called Smudge from next door.

Hattie flicked her tail and then leaped atop of the fence to look down at him. His amber eyes met hers squarely.

"I saw our twolegs talking before." He meowed. His eyes shone with something he thought was good. "They have one of the cages ready to put you in, I think they'll get you fixed."

Hattie drew back startled. "What?" She hissed.

"You'll feel much better after." He said. "A lot calmer."

Hattie felt her pelt fluff up. "I don't want to get fixed." She wailed.

Smudge looked puzzled. "Why not?" He enquired.

"It will just be the twolegs controlling me again. I want to keep exploring."

Smudge shrugged. "There isn't much you can do to avoid it." He said, still looking a little pleased.

"You just want me to stay here!" Said Hattie, staring at him accusingly.

"Why would you want to go?"

"Because there has to be more to life. I don't want to stay chained to this boring nest surrounded by its boring neighbors."

Smudge hissed, offended. "Well I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you." He growled.

"I'm leaving." Said Hattie, and then paused, waiting for him to protest.

Smudge just sat down, wrapping his tail around his paws, watching her coldly. The look was foreign in his warm, amber eyes. Hattie flattened her ears, and lept down the other side of the fence. She'd show him that there was more to life than a twoleg nest and hard, dry pellets.

She'd show herself that maybe, maybe she had a purpose.

CHAPTER TWO ↴

Hattie's movement back through the forest was fast and nervous. Each time the cool wind rustled one of the leaves overhead, it sounded like one of the wildcats, ready to pounce on her. Hattie wanted to tell them what had happened. They had no reason to let her in again, not after she had left like she had, for her twoleg nest of all things. This time she would stick with them for as long as they let her, anger still writhing in her stomach.

She found her way to the stepping stones, walking lightly to avoid any sharp rocks sticking in the pads of her feet. To her, it seemed like the river was lower than it had been the day before, and she could still smell her scent across the stepping stones.

Underneath her scent, she could smell something else; something smaller and warm blooded. Hattie crouched into the awkward position Loudbelly had taught her, and crept towards it. There were tiny, four toed footprints stamped into the slippery river bank. The sound of something small moving around rose above the noise of the river as she turned her ears towards the grass at the edge of the bank. Tensing, Hattie sprang towards the sound, and felt something underneath her paw. Cautiously, she lifted it up, before realizing that she had landed on a piece of drift wood.

Quickly, she pounced again in the direction of the noise. This time, she felt something warm under her paws, but it slipped away like the water which parted around the stepping stones. Hissing in frustration, Hattie tried to track its path through the grass. The rustling leaves showed her an uneven trail, and she bounded after it trying to keep her eyes on it. Her front paw caught in a small dip in the ground, and she fell muzzle first into the grass. Blinking stinging dust from her eyes, Hattie gingerly removed her paw from the hole. She licked it clean, trying to ease the pain.

A musty scent clung to her paw, and she sneezed. Shaking her head, she stuck her nose into the hole which had tripped her up. Soft fur brushed over her nose, and she could hear a faint mewling sound. Using her good paw, she managed to scrape away the cover of grass, reveling a nest of four, small, almost hairless, creatures. Her first thought was that they were mice, but they looked bigger then she would think a mouse would be. Their eyes were closed, but now cold air was rushing into their nests, they were struggling away.

Hattie immediately snatched them up, cringing at the tang of blood which dappled her mouth. She held her head high, trying to see what her mouthful excluded from her normal vision. She couldn't see her paws, which made it difficult for her to put her sore paw down in the right place, but she could spot the wall of sedge grass clearly when she came to it.

Padding carefully around to the entrance of the clearing, Hattie paused to draw in the smell of the forest cats. Nervously she wriggled inside, snagging some of her catch on a trailing branch. Before she could catch a full view of the clearing, a tumble of brown fur crashed into her side. Doggedly holding onto her catch, she waited until her attacker had left off.

Loudbelly was standing away from her, glaring.

"So there's where the cowardly kittypet went." He hissed.

Hattie had been expecting their hostility this time, and she simply held out the still-living bodies of her catch. It was Frostfur who snatched them off her, her eyes bright with hunger and her breath smelling strongly of her last meal which had certainly not been fresh.

"I found these." Said Hattie timidly. There was a small squeak from behind her as Frostfur killed them. No cat spoke, so she kept talking. "I know I shouldn't have left, but I don't want to be a kittypet anymore, I want you to teach me to be like you."

Speckletail snorted.

"Really this time." Hattie insisted.

Frostfur padded forwards. Hattie forced herself not to retch at the sight of the blood which stood out on her white pelt. She looked her over, her faded blue eyes curious. "You left, and yet you have come back." She said. "You cannot leave again, perhaps we did not make it clear last time, but this time, we will teach you the warrior code first."

"If you leave again..." Rasped Speckletail, letting the threat trail off.

Frostfur flicked her nose with her tail. "Shadepelt is out hunting." She said. "But there is no need to dely. You must understand what loyalty is. You must learn to hunt and fight, you must learn to care for your clan mates and your elders."

Hattie nodded. "I understand now." She said quietly.

"You are older than the usual apprentice, but until you have learnt everything you need to know, you need to take the name of one."

"Clean up." Said Loudbelly from behind her. "Shadepelt will be back soon, we will give you an apprentice name then."

Hattie swallowed nervously. "Okay." She meowed, wondering what kind of a ritual they might have in store for her.

Tension settled in the hollow. Hattie groomed herself, finding the rhythmic movement of her tongue soothing. Soon her brown tabby fur shone and the soft white fur on her paws and chest stood out. Loudbelly went to meet Shadepelt as she came back in, explaining everything in a fast, hushed meow.

Finally, her summoned Hattie over with a flick of his tail. Hattie padded over nervously, her sore paw stinging when she touched it to the ground. She tried not to favor it as she sat beside Loudbelly.

"Hattie, you have reached the right age to become an apprentice, and it is time for you to be given your name." Loudbellys voice was filled with power, making Hattie shiver. "From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as-" He paused, his eyes glittering with thought, "Springpaw. You will be taught by every cat here. I hope we will teach you well, and you will learn well." He touched his nose to Hattie's shoulder, and somehow she knew to copy him.

Speckletail looked puzzled. "What does Spring mean?" She asked, the word sounding foreign in her rough meow.

"It was the word I used for new-leaf when I was a loner." Said Loudbelly calmly. "It means new life, and new growth."

"This time has been the winter of all the clans, and I'm afraid it will never be spring again."

Hattie nodded, trying to get use to her new name. "So my name changes, just like that?" She asked uncertainly.

"You said you wanted to be a forest cat." Pointed out Frostfur grimly. "Now you must learn how to act like one."

"Come, Springpaw." Said Loudbelly, flicking his tail at her. Hattie – Springpaw – followed, suddenly determined to make her new name worthwhile. Loudbelly licked his whiskers clean of his meat. "That was a vole." He said. "You were lucky to find young at this time of the year."

This time, she didn't let herself look amused when Loudbelly fell into the hunters crouch. "It will begin to feel natural after a time." He said. "If you were a forest born cat, you'd know."

Springpaw copied him, and Loudbelly corrected her stance. When he pushed her sore paw forwards, she could see what he meant. Even though pain was nibbling at her leg, her position felt almost natural. Loudbelly showed her how to creep forwards, before standing up again.

"You brought us a good meal today." He said. "I don't expect you to manage to catch another; it is often hard here. We will hunt anyway, it will help you get used to it. Do you know how to scent for things?"

Springpaw opened her mouth and drew in air over her tongue. Loudbelly nodded. He continued to teach her the signs of prey, before finally leading her back to their camp just before sunset. Her stomach growled, and she wondered if she would get a meal. But no, the others had gone without food for longer than her. Although she resented the fact that she was left tired and un-fed, she still wanted to get to Frostfur so she could tell her about the clans.

She found Frostfur curled up beside Shadepelt under a bush. Other branches had been woven around them, to block out light. It almost reminded Springpaw of her woven basket inside her twoleg nest. The light inside was dim, but she could clearly see Frostfur's pale blue eyes shining as she began to speak.

Frostfur's voice was soothing, and sent Springpaw to sleep very quickly, although she had intended go over the Warrior Code before she let herself sleep. It was an unfounded promise, although Springpaw supposed she ought to actually do the things she was asked of now.

Springpaw dreamt that she was meeting Smudge. He kept calling her Hattie, but she insisted that her name was Springpaw over and over again.

She woke with a start, her eyes snapping open. Frostfur was prodding her in the side.

"You sleep too much." She said gruffly.

Springpaw lept to her feet, remembering at once where she was. Excited to hunt, but still blinking sleep from her eyes, Springpaw followed her outside.

"Speckletail will take you today." Said Frostfur. Springpaw quivered nervously, but Frostfur just nudged her towards Speckletail, a kind glint in her eyes. "You'll be fine." She said.

Speckletail led Springpaw outside, her scruffy pelt catching on the branches at the entrance. The sky was pale blue, and a chill hung in the air. Springpaw knew as well as anyone that it would be colder still very soon.

"Show me your hunters crouch." Said Speckletail gruffly.

Springpaw showed her, trying hard to get it right. To her disappointment, Speckletail had plenty of criticisms to make.

"That's what comes of being taught the hunters crouch by a Riverclan cat." She growled, nosing Springpaw's hind legs into a straighter line. Springpaw's own annoyance showed through her twitching tail, which Speckletail gripped in her teeth. "Don't swing your tail like that." She said through a mouthful of Springpaw's thick pelt. "You rustle leaves and startle prey."

"Okay." Said Springpaw timidly.

"I don't know the territory well, but there might be something to hunt over there." Speckletail pointed to a patch of bushes along the river bank with the tip of her tail. Springpaw followed the direction, coming to a halt where the bush began.

She had to wriggle on her stomach to get deeper into the bushes, and she realized the noise she must have made as she scrabbled her paws against the ground might have scared away any prey. She sat still for a few heart beats, trying to breathe as quietly as possible so she could listen for anything else.

She couldn't catch anything that day, and she could almost taste the other cat's disappointment as she arrived back with empty paws around midday.

"Sorry." She said.

Frostfur just shrugged. "Loudbelly will find something." She said. "I need to teach you other apprentice duties." Behind her, Shadepelt snickered amusedly.

Springpaw sent her a suspicious glare as Frostfur led her a small distance away from the camp.

"Usually Riverclan cats use bird feathers to line their nests with." Frostfur began. "But we don't catch that many birds, so we will use moss like Thunderclan cats do." Springpaw remembered that Frostfur came from Thunderclan.

The white she-cat led Springpaw to the base of one of the tree's growing by the river. She showed her how to scrape moss from around the trunk without getting dirt or water with it.

"You must take care." She said firmly. "If you don't do it properly you'll have aching bones for moons, and you can't afford to be slowed down like that here."

Springpaw copied her, and gathered a ball of moss underneath her chin to carry back. She helped Frostfur scrape out the old moss and line it with the new moss. Springpaw took extra time to make sure the nests were padded with the soft green material, moving a little more to her side once Frostfur had left to get more. Even so, her nest was not as soft as her bed in her former home and she couldn't help feeling a little guilty of the moss she'd taken for herself.

"I like it here." Said Springpaw that night, even though her stomach rumbled hungrily.

"You haven't been outside in the snow yet then." Said Shadepelt at once.

"It might rain tomorrow." Pointed out Loudbelly. "You might experience bad weather very soon."

"Will we go hunting in the rain?" Springpaw asked, surprised.

"You want to eat, don't you?" Asked Speckletail grumpily.

"Of course."

"Then never waste time doing nothing when you could be hunting." She said.

Springpaw suddenly realized just how much work went into having a life in the forest, but she was also beginning to see what it was worth. She learned quickly, bringing back a sparrow the next day, which she had snagged on one of her claws. She made her own changes to her hunting style also.

She managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of meat from her catch, and once Shadepelt had shown her how the strip the feathers away, it had been alright. She knew more about the clans and the warrior code, and had made up her mind to follow it.

Hattie was no more and Springpaw was changing for the better.

CHAPTER THREE↴

Springpaw took a deep breath, and followed the strange scent through the forest. Loudbelly had predicted the coming rain, which had fallen and soaked the earth. It had let up near sun high, but even as the sun began to set, water still dripped off the leaves, soaking Springpaw's tabby pelt. Whatever's scent she was chasing, it had come through recently, but before the rain. The trail still broke in places where water ran off the leaves, but it was easy enough to pick it up again from the other side.

Thankfully, the trail led away from the river. It had risen with the mornings' downpour, and though the stepping stones still stood away from the water, they were slippery with the turbulent rivers splashes. She hadn't crossed back over since she had arrived, although it had been a quarter moon. On this side of the river, there were trees and wildlife, on the other, everything was dull and grey.

She was worried she would have to see Smudge as well. Somehow, she doubted their meeting would go well.

A droplet of water ran down her nose, and she hastily stifled a sneeze. She had to be close now. A few paw steps later, she stepped out into a clearing. The grass there grew in clumps, and a few pieces of twoleg rubbish blew around in front of her, stopping at a sheer brick wall which blocked her view. The dirt in-between the grass, slightly soggy from the rain, was pockmarked with holes which were not made by twolegs. Springpaw recognized them as rabbit nests. Rabbit would be a much better prize then mouse.

She scanned the field for any sign of movement. It was near sunset, and the waning light reflected onto the twoleg waste, sending bright flashes in her direction. Despite the distraction, she managed to spot a movement in the grass. She dropped into a crouch, ears pricked. One of the islands of grass rustled as something pulled on it. She opened her mouth to scent the air. She was smelling the same, sweet scent as she had before.

She took a cautious step forwards, and then lunged, her teeth missing the creature by a whisker. The rabbit thumped its foot as it hopped away, the white underneath its tail flashing a warning to any others which might be about. She followed it, watching despairingly as it rolled into its nest and out of reach.

Springpaw stuck her nose inside, smelling damp earth and rabbit. The nest was surprisingly large, enough for her to wriggle inside. She did so, curious to see how far it stretched back. Using her front paws to pull herself deeper, she found it split into two. She could feel fresh air ruffling her whiskers from one, so she turned in that direction.

Her crawl through the tunnel was uneventful, and left her with dirt speckling her pelt, and the scent of rabbit blocked by that of soil pressing into her nose. Springpaw sneezed and shook herself out, glad to be back out in the open air. Her breath wreathed around her, like silver smoke from a fire.

She thought almost longingly about her twoleg nest, but she didn't yet regret her decision. Padding quickly through the dim forest, she arrived back at camp empty-pawed.

"Half the day outside and not a morsel left to eat." Muttered Speckletail.

"She's done well so far." Pointed out Frostfur. Her pale blue eyes were kind, but still sad. She always looked sad.

"I'll teach her to fish tomorrow." Said Shadepelt, settling down into her nest. "There might be some fish in the river."

"If it doesn't freeze over first." Muttered Loudbelly.

"I'll go hunting first." Springpaw decided, curling up beside Shadepelt. She rested her muzzle on her tail, listening as the elders began to talk about Firestar and Crookedstar, comparing the two great leaders. Speckletail's purring was loud; she slept on the other side of Springpaw and the sound reverberated in her ears.

The next morning, she awoke early, and decided to try rabbit hunting before Shadepelt took her out. Hopefully she wouldn't have to get her paws wet if she caught them a meal. She instantly felt guilty for her thoughts. She knew that fishing was a good way to learn as well, but the leaf litter was crusted with white frost which crackled under her paws, and each breath she drew in chilled her.

She reached the meadow easily, half following her scent from the day before, and half remembering her paw steps. When she stepped out, some of the rabbits which had been hopping around darted back to their burrow. There was a spray of dirt as they fought for entrance. Springpaw hissed in frustration, realizing she should have waited to see if any were out.

She waited, watching as twoleg waste skittered across the clearing, shining brightly. She crouched down until everything was still. The clearing was sheltered so she didn't have to wait long until the wind had died down and there was none to carry her scent in either direction. Then, she hurried to the nearest rabbit hole and sniffed it. It wasn't the one she had entered the night before, but it was just as well used.

She flattened her belly to the ground and wriggled down into the nest. Instantly, the smell of must and rabbit penetrated her nose. In the semi-darkness, she could just make out the curve of the tunnel spreading out in front of her. As her eyes adjusted, and she could distinguish between old and new rabbit scent, she knew where to go.

She reached a fork in the tunnel, and this time she followed to where the scent was freshest, which took her downhill. She tried to be silent, but each breath was amplified by the rough passage walls. She knew rabbits had good hearing, but she doubted they could all get out in time; the passage was becoming so narrow her whiskers were being pressed against her face. Each time her shoulder touched the side, she worried she would get stuck.

The scent of rabbit became almost overpowering, and she knew she was close. She almost bumped into another corner because very little light could filter in from the entrance. She stood still, and could hear a faint scuffling nearby. Then, she pinpointed the sound, and lept forwards. Her paws landed on something soft which wriggled violently to escape. She dug her claws in and sniffed it, jerking back when a strong foot thumped her on the nose. Darting in again, she found the neck of the rabbit, and bit down, silencing its struggles. She stood still for a few heartbeats, waiting to see if it would move.

When everything remained quiet, Springpaw grasped its neck and began finding her way back out. Due to the small space in the tunnel, there was very little room for her to get the rabbit in a good position. She had not carried something so big before, but she quickly found that if she dragged it between her front legs, she could move reasonably fast.

She took a few wrong turns, but having followed the feel of the cooler air on her nose, she found an exit. She came up from a hole close to the twoleg wall. She could see the ivy and moss growing in the cracks, and hear the noises of twoleg place from beyond. Turning away from it and that part of her life, she walked back to camp. The sun had only just risen, and was still staining the clouds a very faint pink colour, like the fragrant flowers which had grown on the old tree outside her nest.

The cats were awake when she entered camp, dragging her catch. She dropped it in the center, her jaw aching.

"Good catch, Springpaw!" Said Loudbelly, his eyes crusty with sleep.

She purred, and nosed it towards him.

"Take the first bite." Loudbelly said. "You'll need your strength today if Shadepelt's teaching you."

Springpaw nodded, dipping her head to Loudbelly, before opening her mouth as wide as she could and biting down. The fresh, musty flavor of rabbit rushed over her tongue. Springpaw savored it, taking another bite before the other cats came in to take their share.

Once Shadepelt had eaten her fill, she stood back, swiping her tongue over her mouth. Her pelt was thicker and less patchy now, a result of Springpaw's help, but Shadepelt still appeared frailer than any of the others, and sometimes she would waver backwards and forwards as she walked.

"Follow me." Said Shadepelt, flicking her tail like she was swatting a fly.

Springpaw followed her down to the river, reluctantly stepping in. The muddy water felt greasy against her fur, and only a moon ago, she would have lept away and shaken out the water. Now, she resisted the urge and stood still, watching carefully as Shadepelt crouched over the water.

"See how my shadow doesn't touch it?" She rasped.

The sky was clear, and the sun cast her shadow over the bank rather than the river. Shadepelt had one paw extended over the water, and she was completely still, her green eyes focused wholly on the murky water.

Finally, she sat back, grunting as she stretched. "No fish." She said, "Just practice the posture, and if we see something, we'll pounce."

Shadepelt demonstrated again and again how to hook her paws into the water to grab an imaginary fish. Springpaw couldn't imitate her without splashing water back into her face. Soon, she was soaked to the bone.

"I don't see why I need to learn this." she grumbled finally, sitting back.

Shadepelt cuffed her over the ear. "That skill is one that kept a whole clan alive." she croaked, her dark tail twitching.

"Yeah, but there's no fish." Springpaw huffed. "So what am I going to catch? Twoleg waste? Because there's enough of it around." she dodged a plastic bag, feeling haggard. For that, she got another cuff over the head and plunged into the stream. "Hey!" she protested, leaping out. Mud and silt streamed off her pelt, staining her white patched grey.

"You watch your tone." said Shadepelt.

Springpaw dipped her head and sullenly continued her task.

"Your shadows over the water again." Shadepelt pointed out.

Springpaw abandoned her careful crouching and straightened up.

"I can't do it." she said.

Shadepelt recoiled. "Fine." she hissed. "You're too narrow minded anyway. There is more than one way to make a skill work."

Springpaw left before the old cat could continue further. She pushed up the slope and into the thick grass. "Delusional she-cat." she muttered darkly, a phrase she had learned from Speckletail and one of the old she-cat's favorites.

Springpaw began to run. Her breathing evened out and soon she ran for the pleasure of running. Marsh grass slashed against her face, and she half-closed her eyes against them. One of her almost-dry paws splashed into another stream, and she stopped. She hadn't been here before.

The water was clear, and the stream burbled happily downhill. She dipped in one of her paws and saw the silt from the river run off it. Gingerly, she lowered herself in, feeling the water pull the dirt from her pelt.

Springpaw felt the guilt tug at her belly, one thing the water couldn't pull from her. She got back out, and looked sadly at the water. Shadepelt clung to her past like a burr, and it was then Springpaw realized she was trying to teach her RiverClan customs, to stop them from dying out.

She checked the direction of the sun before crouching down and watching the water. She could see the bottom, and many small fish swimming against the current. One came to the surface and snapped up a bug, before receding back into the water, leaving only a small ring of ripples to mark where it had been.

She sat up from her crouch and cocked her head to one side thinking. She flicked her tail from one side to the other, feeling agitated. She could dig a trap, but that would take too long. Her eyes followed her tail and its white tip, tracing a path over the marshy ground.

She remembered when her twolegs had taken her to the lake. They had lured fish to the surface with something similar, attached to long rods which they hung over the side of the boat. Slowly she dangled her tail in the water. The fish scattered away at first, but they quickly began to eye her 'bait'.

Springpaw sat poised ready to strike. One darted up, and nipped her tail. She couldn't feel it, so she started a second too late. She tried to hook the fish out of the water but she couldn't grip it in time.

She stuck her tail back out again and this time, when a fish swam up to investigate she waited until the fish had taken the bait. Biting back a yowl Springpaw flicked the fish out onto the bank and dealt it killing bite before it could slip away.

This'll make up for our fight! Springpaw thought, picking it up.

She tried to follow her scent back but her nose was blocked with strong smell of fish, and she soon resorted to following the tracks she had made. She arrived back at the river scanning the banks for Shadepelt. For a moment, she thought the old she-cat had gone back to camp, but then she saw a dark grey shape in the river.

Springpaw dropped her fish, and padded over grabbing Shadepelts scruff in her teeth. She heaved her out, surprised when the she-cat made no move to help herself. Springpaw set her down on the bank, stepping between her and the river to stop her from sliding back down. Shadepelt just lay in a sodden heap on the bank, unmoving.

Springpaw nudged her. Her fur was freezing, and no breath came from her nose. With a jolt, she realized her head was bleeding. Springpaw pushed Shadepelt harder.

Please, if there's any Star clan left, let her be alright.

She snatched up a pawful of leaves and pressed them to Shadepelts temple. The blood had barely trickled out, but there was some which still soaked Shadepelts head. She had stopped bleeding. It wasn't the blood which was the problem.

No no no no no.

But her eyes were milky and staring.

Springpaw howled her grief to the sky.

It's all my fault.

She thought numbly. She had to get help. She paused for a moment, unsure which direction to move in. Then, she gently pulled Shadepelt back to camp.

She was met with horror and disbelief. The rest of the day blurred together as Springpaw tried to explain between panicked gulps of air what had happened.

How it was all her fault.

Loudbelly rubbed herbs into Shadepelts fur. Speckletail said he was trying to mask the scent of death. But it was pointless. Shadepelt was dead.

Springpaw sat vigil letting the cold air seep into her still damp pelt. What if she had come back sooner? What if she had never left in the first place? She should have stayed, and tried to understand. She knew that now. If she had stayed, Shadepelt would have been fine, she just knew it. The moon seemed to laugh at her, offering none of its usual comfort. There were no stories from the others, who were just as silent and still as she.

The small fish lay forgotten on the bank of the dying river.

CHAPTER FOUR↴

Springpaw stuck to the others like a burr. Suddenly, she wasn't curious anymore. She learned, she remembered, and she used her knowledge to block out what had happened. They insisted it wasn't her fault, but she knew better.

"I knew something was wrong." Speckletail repeated over and over again. She showed Springpaw herbs, although she didn't know many. Yarrow to save a cat from poison and marigold to combat infection. Daisy to give strength, Cobweb to stop bleeding.

It took a moon for Springpaw to finally be able to sleep without nightmares. By then, prey had grown scarce. The river was lower, and every morning Springpaw worried that the cold would be too much for one of them.

Her own tabby pelt was patchy and scrawny, but she was washing it again as grief loosened its hold. Suddenly she could see the world wasn't bright and free and innocent anymore. She understood how much of a battle life was for these cats, but she also found it was one she was willing to fight.

Frostfur had become gaunt, a hollow look in her eyes. Her stories were dark, but taught Springpaw valuable lessons, many of them about StarClan. Frostfur had taken to sitting outside in the night, looking at the sky and wonder whose ancestors were up there now. It took many gentle words from Loudbelly to get her back inside.

Her rasping breathing woke Springpaw up often. She would accompany the old she cat outside, where she would sit quietly beside her as she gazed at the stars. The ground was coated with frost which made a soft crunching sound each time either of them moved, but neither Loudbelly or Speckletail awoke. Frostfur's tail swished across the ground, and Springpaw watched her closely as the pupils in her pale eyes dilated as she took in the sky. The stars made tiny pinpricks in their black depths and Springpaw wondered if they really were the spirits of her warrior ancestors. The clan cat's ancestors; not hers, she reminded herself.

She felt the wind hit the fur where Frostfur had been before and turned to see the white she cat padding away to the entrance of the camp. Quickly, Springpaw darted to her side and herded her back inside to the den. Frostfur just sighed, the movement making her ribs stand out. Springpaw nosed her into her nest, and settled into hers, blowing some feathers out of her face, and shutting her eyes.

The next morning, the sun barely lit the sky. Dark clouds had crept across it, shielding them from the light. The river ice had crept further out to the middle, aided by the lack of a strong current. Loudbelly had his muzzle facing the wind, and was drawing in deep breaths.

"Smells like snow." He declared.

For a moment, Springpaw perked up, and purred almost like she was a kit. Then she remembered how much harder it would make life for them.

"We'll need to get more moss for the nests." Rasped Speckletail, shaking her fur out as she stepped outside. In a lower tone, she added, "Frostfur's breathing's getting worse, we might need to find better shelter."

Loudbelly shifted anxiously from foot to foot. "We should stay here. We know the territory."

Speckletail flicked her tail in displeasure and hobbled off to the dirtplace.

"Try the marshlands for some birds." Meowed Loudbelly. "We have today, at least. Come back if it begins to snow."

Springpaw nodded, and bounded out of camp. Carefully, she picked her way through the marshland, staying low and hoping that her tabby pelt would blend in with the surroundings. She squinted, and could see the dull feathers of a mallard duck amongst the clumps of grass. She crept towards it, using the hunting crouch Loudbelly had taught her to use for birds. Keeping low, she got to within striking distance. Making sure her paws were planted firmly on the slippery clumps of marsh grass. She tensed, and the pounced, landing on the duck. It was a male, his green feathered head glistening as he tossed it from side to side in his wild bid to escape. Springpaw lunged forwards, and gripped his neck, biting down.

As the duck stopped moving, she leaned back, shaking cold water from her eyes, glancing anxiously at the sky as she did so. It was dark as if it were dusk, but she could see the faint light coming from the sun near the center of the sky. Quickly, she made her way back, her prey clutched in her mouth.

She couldn't see her paws as the duck's body obscuring her view of them. She slipped several times, her paws landing in between the clumps of plants and into the small amount of icy water which collected amongst them.

The snow came as predicted and Springpaw's joy at seeing the land so crisp and clean quickly wore off when she found that it soaked and chilled her to the bone worse than any rain. For the first time in moons Springpaw considered going back to her twolegs, but squashed the thought she now recognized as selfish, down.

Frostfur had fallen sick and seemed endlessly worried that when she died there would be no Starclan waiting for her. The others, even Springpaw who hadn't experienced the power of Starclan firsthand, reassured her that this was not the case. It was a relief when Frostfur's suffering finally came to the end. She died peacefully, although not before passing her hacking cough on to Loudbelly.

Springpaw remained healthy, thank Starclan, and she hunted for the others dutifully. She understood so much more of clan life and it sunk into her for the first time that soon she really would be the only one in the area who truly held the memories. This saddened Springpaw for two reasons – She didn't want the clanmates she'd come to love and respect to die and she didn't trust her ability to hold all the elders tales, rules and traditions which jumbled her mind.

Loudbelly recovered from his illness, though he was weaker than ever. Springpaw prayed to Starclan that her remaining two clanmates would survive but they then hit the harshest part of leaf bare. Some of the snow had melted, and what was left had a frozen crust covering it which broke and scraped down Springpaw's leg when she stepped on it. The land became not more cold, but barren, and the river nearly ceased flowing completely. Springpaw had ceased complaining about having to hunt no matter the conditions but she was increasingly reluctant to leave her warm nest.

She looked over at Speckletail, who was nothing but skin and bones, and realized that she must look the same. If Smudge could see me now... she reflected drily. Hattie had thought that to be a wild cat you needed to eat mouthfuls of feathers and sleep outside in the rain. Springpaw knew better; a true wild cat had lived through winter.

CHAPTER FIVE↴

"Comb the forest on the other side of the river." Loudbelly ordered. "Perhaps you'll have more luck."

Springpaw had been hunting through the reed beds for the past few days and she'd almost be glad of the change – except she doubted she'd find anything over the river. Despite her doubts she nodded and lept to her task. She knew without it being said to keep an eye out for any daisy for Speckletail.

Carefully Springpaw picked her way over the stepping stones and landed on the back at the other side. She had to scrabble for purchase against the slippery bank and straightened quickly, half-glad there was no life nearby to see her struggle. But Springpaw's pride was now not without wisdom and she wished that there was a forest full of prey in front of her even if she was clumsy.

If wishes were fishes I'd be well fed... she thought, looking at the empty river. The saying was one of Loudbelly's and she understood its meaning.

Making herself aware of her surroundings, Springpaw combed the forest, first with her eyes shut and her mouth and ears opened wide, then with careful paw steps towards the twoleg place. She forced herself to stop and analyze each scent, no matter how much they stirred kit-hood memories. No danger, she concluded.

Carefully she approached the road, and did a double take when she became face-to-face with a familiar white picket fence. How long had it been? She wondered, hearing the noises of her old nest drifted through the air. Cautiously she backed away.

There would be no sparrows sunning themselves in the garden, she reminded herself. She could have caught them if there were. There was no reason for her to linger. She scented the air one last time, prepared to leave and continue her search. She felt fear scent on her tongue and scanned the area.

Her eyes caught onto a grey cat, watching her from next door – not any grey cat, Smudge. She opened her mouth to greet him, and then had second thoughts. Did he recognize her? Surely he wouldn't be scared of her if he had.

"H-Hattie?" He stammered finally.

Springpaw ached to tell him her name was no longer Hattie. She ached to tell him of her adventures and share her sorrow at her clanmates death with him. Was this how Rusty – no Firestar – had felt? Like he had so much to say but knew it wouldn't be understood? Envious and yet pitying the cats who lived the easy kittypet life?

Silently, she dipped her head to him, not wanting to speak. What a disaster... she reflected as she bounded away. Was she afraid? Did she think she'd be tempted again? She shook her head, a little ashamed. Another day, she told herself. She had things to do.

Springpaw scented the air around her, blocking out those of a half-familiar home. Her hunting led her away until finally she smelt prey. She was near the Thunderpath and proceeded to cautiously stalk the mouse she'd found. One pounce and a clean bite to the neck. There was no noise from her prey, and as its dying struggles ceased she felt satisfied with her efficiency.

We can all get by on this she decided, although the others need it more than me.

*

And so her days continued. She followed Loudbelly's orders with a new effectiveness. He mentally kept a tally of which areas hadn't been hunted in a few days and Springpaw hunted them. Days where she caught nothing were punished only with hunger and rough start to the next day, but she was rewarded with more than just a full belly when she caught prey.

It wasn't just hunting either. Springpaw learned to fight, through theory when Loudbelly was too stiff to show her. The exercises were to fend off cats which Springpaw doubted would ever come, but she'd learned her lesson from Shadepelt and knew not to dismiss her learning. It made her strong if nothing else.

And then, one day, Loudbelly simply told Springpaw and Speckletail that it was his time, and the two helped him to the old medicine den where he'd always wanted to go. Springpaw and Speckletail watched over him, sitting vigil for the whole night, watching the stars and thinking over his life.

"Walk with Starclan." Speckletail had told his still form. "Now," she huffed to Springpaw, "we bury him so nothing will dig him up." Her words seemed sudden and business like. Springpaw reeled back. The old she-cat nudged her sympathetically. "We have payed him our respects but life must continue." She said.

Springpaw bore most of the weight of Loudbelly's thin form as they moved aside from the center of the den.

"It's a solid reminder of his clan life." Speckletail explained. Springpaw wondered if she'd tell her another story, but she was silent as she scraped out the ground.

"It's too frozen." Springpaw said, too numb a note of complaint on her voice.

"Bring up river stones while I keep digging then." Said Speckletail shortly. Springpaw did as she was told, making trip after trip while the hole slowly became big enough to accommodate Loudbelly's form. They'd have to cover him with the stones to set him completely to rest as the frost had made the ground as hard as rock.

Springpaw lay the stones over his fur, her pelt heavy with sorrow. Afterwards she groomed her pelt meticulously, licking the dirt out from between her claws, which were slightly blunt from her digging.

*

"We... Have to... go home." Speckletail wheezed. It was almost new-leaf, but winter still gripped the land. It was cold; Springpaw's breath misted out around her.

"We are home." She said gently.

The old she-cat shook her head and stood up, walking doggedly forwards. "Thunderclan." She said, making for the stepping stones.

"We can't go out in this!" Springpaw protested, flicking her tail to the mutinous sky. "It'll rain in a few minutes."

Speckletail rounded on her. "One day you'll understand." She said. "My home, my true home, is with my clan, moons away, and with my memories of them, which are closest in Thunderclan territory."

"You can't handle being out in the cold so much!" Springpaw said, wincing as she realized how insulted Speckletail got when she mentioned her weakness.

"There is no cure for old age." The old she-cat said. "You can't halt death much longer." She coughed.

Springpaw shook her head, eyes wide. "You're the last." She said.

"No." Speckletail meowed simply. "You are." She moved to the entrance and Springpaw did not try to stop her, only following in her wake. "I'm losing my memories." Speckletail said, her voice cracking with sorrow. "But you keep them for us. Follow me, I will give you your warrior name. It breaks traditions, but you deserve it."

Springpaw was touched. Sad and tired but touched that Speckletail would break tradition for her.

"I've always thought the names were in the forest." Speckletail pointed a spindly tail at the leaf litter. "Branches wreathed with the last mark of winter, earth which always somehow renews, land which has supported cats for generations." She turned her eyes to the sky. "Birds and wisps of cloud and the sun; they all mean different things to different cats. Sometimes the name is an idea – your name is an idea, Springpaw. You will bring a new start to the cats who need it most." Speckletail's eyes were bright and Springpaw wondered if she had a fever. Yet it was the brightness of enthusiasm.

"You're feeling happy." Springpaw said as she considered her mentors words.

"I see the way out."

Springpaw cocked her head to one side. "Where might that be?" She asked.

"Death." Speckletail said shortly.

"I don't understand." Springpaw whispered. Speckletails ears pricked as she picked up the muttered words.

"You will one day." She said, wisely and perhaps a little sadly.

"Why not now?" Springpaw asked impatiently.

Speckletail looked back at her sharply and almost slipped on the moss covered stepping stones as they crossed the river. She steadied herself and seemed to ignore Springpaw's question. "There's a tree near here, it has small green needles even in winter, but it grows low to the ground and isn't a pine tree."

"Don't you know its name?" Springpaw asked. Speckletail didn't answer and Springpaw wondered a little irritably if she didn't like admitting she didn't know. She stamped it down; she wasn't angry at Speckletail, only scared of what she'd do when the she-cat left her all alone.

"I want you to take one of its berries. Wrap it in moss and if you get any on your paws then wash them. You will get it as your first task as a warrior."

Springpaw nodded uncertainly. Why couldn't she touch it? Speckletail's posture shifted as she walked, as if by agreeing Springpaw had taken a huge weight off her shoulders. She stopped at a dip in the ground, picking over the prickles of bramble bushes which had long since been torn down. Springpaw wondered if Speckletail was seeing her clanmates as her eyes clouded over and she gazed unseeingly around the hollow.

"The high rock is gone." She said, the sadness of generations echoing in her voice.

"We are not." Springpaw reminded her gently.

"You are not." Speckletail said. "I cannot recall so much..." She drifted off and stepped out in front of her, heading her off. "Your warrior name." She reminded the young she-cat.

Springpaw dipped her head and stayed where Speckletail had left her.

"I, Speckletail, Eldest Thunderclan cat on the old territories, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice." She begun. There was no doubt in her voice that their ancestors would be watching. "Springpaw has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn." Speckletail had been looking up at the sky, her eyes unblinking even as snowflakes coated her fur. Then, she turned her misty eyes on Springpaw. "Springpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do." Springpaw said instinctively.

Speckletail floundered for the words for an instant, before drawing herself up to her full height. She should have looked pathetic; her bones stuck out like tree limbs despite her food, but Springpaw only felt respect. "Then by the powers of Starclan I give you your warrior name." She continued. "Springpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Springfall. Starclan honors your determination and strength through these difficult times and we welcome you as a full warrior of the clans."

Springfall stepped forwards as decreed and touched her mentors and leaders nose. She didn't dispute the old she-cat's use of the word 'we' as for the first time, she felt as if there truly was someone up there.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"You must sit vigil tonight." Speckletail said. She lowered herself suddenly to the ground, eyes clouded in pain. "Springfall, do you remember the berry?"

Springfall nodded, the sound of her new name foreign and yet fitting to her. "I'll get it." She said.

The snow had ceased, leaving the forest frosted in white. The clouds were becoming patchy, a hint of blue shining through their still snow-laden forms. The tree Speckletail had mentioned was nearby, downhill from the camp. There was none of the red berries on the ground surrounding the bush, so Springfall pushed her way underneath. Some of the branches released their burdens of snow on top of her, and Springfall shook the flakes the tree had dumped on her from her pelt.

Her sharp eyes caught a small flash of red amongst the barren ground and she gently rolled a berry into view with her front paw. It was small and wrinkled, but she followed Speckletails instructions and scraped off some of the moss which had grown at the base of the tree. After rolling the berry in the moss, Springfall took it gently in her mouth and padded back to the old camp.

Speckletail had been sitting where Springfall had left her, but when she arrived back, clutching the wrapped berry in her mouth, Speckletail stood.

"Good." She said shortly, pawing the bundle towards her. Speckletail unwrapped the berry and sniffed it gingerly. "Springfall," She said, pausing suddenly, "what will you do when I'm gone."

Springfall nodded reluctantly. She didn't like the way Speckletail spoke of her death as inevitable – even though she knew it was.

"I could go back to my twolegs." Springfall said reluctantly.

"No." Speckletail said. "You should find other cats and teach them about the clans. You could make your own – near high stones. Twolegs cannot remove use from the forest altogether."

"I'm... not sure I can," Springfall said, her amber eyes were wide. She had just learned her warrior name, but she was meant to live with her clan, not make one alone.

Speckletail dipped her head and took the berry into her mouth. Springfall watched as she chewed and swallowed. She could scent fear coming from the old she-cat. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing is wrong." Speckletail said, her whiskers quivering. "Now, I do not have long, so listen to me." Springfall leaned closer as Speckletail got quieter. "You are our legacy here, you need to carry on." Suddenly her body seized up and she writhed on the ground.

"Speckletail?" Springfall repeated, her voice urgent.

"You... have... to... keep... going..." Speckletail said between haggard breaths.

"Why shouldn't I follow you?" Springfall asked, distraught. "Was it the berry? Why would you eat it?"

"My time... I should not drag it... Springfall... do not... loose hope."

"How can't I?"

"Live for me." Speckletail said. Springfall smelt the metallic tang of blood seeping from the corner of the old she-cat's mouth.

"I killed you!" She protested.

"Not... you," Speckletail groaned, before a yowl was ripped from her throat and she shook again. Springfall rushed forwards and buried her nose in her mentors fur, but she was still.

It was only Springfall now.

CHAPTER SIX↴

She buried Speckletail with no protest the frozen ground. Her claws were blunted against the hard soil, one of them cracked and bleeding, but Springfall payed them no mind. She gently laid Speckletail's body in the depression in the ground. Her muscles had frozen him her posture or pain, and Springfall would have done anything to have known the properties of the small, red berry.

Gently, she scraped earth over Speckletails body. She knew what she had to do next, but not where or how. She would go towards what had once been RiverClan territory. There were trees there. Not enough to support what the clans had once been, but her and maybe a few others... then in time... Springfall shook her head. She could live there, but not with other cats.

She didn't know what Speckletail expected of her. She couldn't lead other cats. Speckletails body was covered in earth, and Springfall smoothed it over gently. She wanted to mark Speckletails grave, but around her there was only waste land. Wasteland which had once been Speckletails home. Springfall tried to memorize her position, and Speckletail's face, before stepping away.

It was still cold, and Springfall couldn't imagine warmth on her fur. She exhaled, watching her frosty breath on the air. It seemed she was the only thing alive to disturb the whole of the old territory's. Hanging her head, Springfall begun to head west towards the river.

She wished the day had stayed calm and clear. The wind had gotten up and ripped at her pelt, freezing her whiskers. She wished she had stayed where there was some shelter back at camp. If wishes were fishes... The reminder of Loudbelly made her shake with the desire to yowl her pain and misery, but she clenched her jaw shut. A single speck against a world of white.

Springfall felt her eyes start to shut. She was cold... so cold. And yet the cold seemed meaningless. She could feel her paws aching with the snow, but only a small portion of her mind registered it. The rest of it was numb. Vaguely Springfall wondered if the rest of her had become numb as well.

The river was approaching. It was shrunken and frozen over. She slipped on the bank and skidded down. She could feel gravel scraping along to icy pads of her paws, and knew it must be scraping off the skin. Heedless, she waded through the river. Her paw steps were bloody when she reached the ground.

She bowed her head against the wind and her grief. If she'd stayed in her twoleg nest she would be safe. Her clan would be safe. She never should have left. Death seemed to follow her, her vision became clouded.

A twoleg nest loomed in front of her, and she ducked. There was warmth inside them. Warmth and a terrible emptiness. If Springfall warmed up, would she feel her grief again? She skirted around the nest, steps uneven. There were tree's nearby, with dead, skeletal boughs reaching to the sky.

A fast breath through her nose revealed the scent of another cat. She tried to crouch low and wobbled on her paws

NOTE↴

That's it. Legit, that's all I have (Three cheers?)

I'm not sure why I stopped there, over a year ago, and I can't remember where this was going, except that I had two more chapters marked out and this:

was my only planning.

Yay me?

Originally this was very different and it was one of the first things I posted on Wattpad (I've changed it many times since)

I even wrote a spoof version (If you can read my writing -- I'm not typing it out lol)

This is the little book I have beside my bed to write in. It's actually really cool, except after I start writing I can't just turn my brain off, so in my defense, my handwriting is neater when I'm not half asleep.

It gets better tho:

I randomly switch to link here (Unconsciously - i never even learned how to link write)

I also made up a code? here:

Anyway, Imma post this before my computer crashes, byeee