The den had gone silent after the apprentice spoke.

        The elder's face fell and didn't speak for a moment. "I don't think I'm the best cat for you to tell you, Rabbitpaw..."

     "Please? Spottedtail never would tell me and I want to know about him."

     "Depression does that to a cat..." She murmured. She closed her eyes firmly.

"Tell the young'n," Stonetooth rasped. "Better out than in as I would say."

     Creamfur opened her eyes, the soft blue orbs glowing with wisdom.

"Alright then," she murmured. "Back many moons ago, when I was a warrior, your mother was a breath of joy for the entire camp. A pure was brought to every cat simply with her presence. She later on became a warrior and fell in love with a cat named Cloudheart, or your father. He was an honorable cat, and quite the handsome one, too," Creamfur purred slightly at the comment. Then her eyes clouded and became lost in a dark sea of thoughts.

    "Then one day Cloudheart went hunting alone to try to get Spottedtail only the biggest of prey while she was in the nursery, expecting you in only a matter of time. That's when he died," the elder finished.

Rabbitpaw had a mountain of questions once the elder had completed her story. "But how did he die? What did he look like? What if-"

"That's enough," the cat silenced him. "No one knows how he died except for the fact his body was covered in wounds and vicious bite marks. And your father looked like you." She sighed. I'm sure that's why your mother is always in grief. Your the living reminder of her loss."

     The words stung him like wasps. If I looked different, would she grieve less or feel empty?
    After a few moments of silence, Rabbitpaw spoke up and meowed, "Alright, I'm done with ticks... And thank you for sharing this with me Creamfur."

     After nodding his goodbye and giving the stick back to Snowstep, the words repeated in his mind.

Your the living reminder of her loss...
He was the thing that haunted his mother, preventing happiness and joy to come from her. Then he shook his head. Mama loves me for who I am! But the more he thought about it, the more his guilt grew.

     His thoughts roamed even more when Duskpelt took him out to teach him how to hunt.

     "Rabbitpaw, your not going to catch the most elder rabbit on the moor if you don't focus!" Duskpelt scolded.

     "Sorry, Duskpelt." His head bowed down in shame.

    His mentor snorted. "Ok, let me start again. You have to make sure that you can cover as much distance as possible with your run..."

The day seemed to continue for dreadfully long. By the time he got curled up on the soft grass to sleep on, he thought to himself, "What was the thing that could have killed him?"