Lilystream's breath drifted away like dandelion seeds and it was the end, death beckoning like a siren.
''...Well, that's that.'' Lampreypelt murmured gruffly, as his fellow clan-mates mourned for the young mother. ''I'll get the burial herbs.'' The dark tabby rose to his paws, quietly recalling them over and over in his head; mint, lavender, thyme and sage to mask the rot, poppy and forget-me-not to decorate the she-cat's fur. It was just a duty, Lampreypelt reminded himself, a stranger burying his clan's old friend.
Trouttail suddenly pitched into a horrible wail, bowling forward to weep at Lilystream's paws. ''I'm so sorry.'' This was the second time that she had let a mother down, the previous one having been spent bickering with Smallwhisker over who was to help Fogwhisker. ''I'm so sorry, Lilystream, kits!'' Trouttail could barely bring herself to even
breathe. ''I'm sorry, but I've got to get out of here.'' The tabby looked furtively around the nursery, copper eyes flashing in the dark. ''I'm cursed.'' The ground seemed to seep with blood in front of Trouttail, the cries of milk-starved kittens eventually driving her out. Then there was just Smallwhisker, Firepool and Fumitorystorm.
''So...who's going to look after them?'' Fumitorystorm's voice was small, she knew the answer already. The kits were mewling, whining and struggling against her own litter in their conquest for milk and warmth. ''And name them.'' The silver tabby looked up at the two healers, ears twitching. ''I-I don't think I could, they're not mine and I can't possibly pretend they're my own, that's...that's not right.''
Smallwhisker stared at the tabby impassively, much to Firepool's surprise; This was her clan-mate that had just died, this was her clan-mate pleading her for help, and all the tortoiseshell did was stare. ''Wean them off, and give them to Oakfeather or Fogwhisker.'' Smallwhisker replied at last. ''Shouldn't take more than a couple of moons.''
''But she's still gotta name them.'' Firepool mumbled, whiskers twitching with nerves. ''Can't have them hobbling around with no names.'' The ginger molly crouched before the litter, watching with curiosity as the Siamese kit clambered over Firkit; Determined little claws poked out every now and then, tugging a smile at the corners of Firepool's mouth. ''What about this one?''
Fumitorystorm was grateful for Smallwhisker's decree, even if it meant for loss of time. ''Thank you.'' She felt the stirrings of the fire in her die down, until all that was left was the simmering embers. ''I appreciate it.'' And then, there was the matter of their names; The grey queen turned to her litter and frowned, watching three white kits struggling to gain any sort of leverage against Teaselkit and Eveningkit. ''Well...'' Fumitorystorm glanced at the bundle of herbs by Smallwhisker's paws and suddenly it clicked.
''The white kits are Comreykit, Chervilkit and Daisykit.'' She pointed at the trio, nodding sagely. ''And the last one...the last one is..'' It was difficult to decide; Fumitorystorm was a stickler for themes and she couldn't possibly think of another herb to suit their pelt. Celdandinekit? Dandelionkit? Mallowkit? They did look a lot like Vervainthroat, and for a moment she considered naming him after her father...
''What about Hemlockkit?'' Smallwhisker rumbled. ''We've never had a cat named Hemlock- here, and there's always a first for everything.''
Firepool stared at her in silent horror. ''You can't name them Hemlockit!'' She stomped an angry paw, or at least as angry as Firepool got. ''Hemlock is used to kill things, you can't possibly name a kit, who looks like a killer, after a herb that kills.'' She shook her head adamantly. ''Why not Wisteriakit? Or Mistlekit?'' Wait, hang on mistletoe was also poisonous. ''Actually not Mistlekit, that's bad too.''
''You didn't raise such an uproar when Foxkit was named, and foxes kill cats too.'' Smallwhisker pointed out. ''In fact there are a few cats here named after things that kill cats, like Adderleap.'' The tortoiseshell continued. ''An adder killed my mentor, and yet you don't see me thinking that Adderleap is going to kill anyone.''
Firepool whimpered, shaking her head adamantly. ''But...Hemlock? Really?'' She turned to Fumitorystorm. ''Please tell me you understand me.'' The ginger tabby shuffled her paws, shaking her head. ''Please don't name them Hemlockkit.'' Yellow eyes flickered nervously. ''She looks exactly like the cat who tried to kill Briarcloud and Garlicstar.'' Firepool reminded her sternly.
''If anyone tries to make Hemlockkit seem evil, you can tell them to have a word with me.'' Replied Smallwhisker evenly. ''Besides Vervainthroat didn't even kill anyone, in fact, I thought he was a bit of a tosser.''
The silver tabby's tail curled around her kits as she listened to the pair of them. ''Please, please leave now.'' She yawned. ''I'd like to rest.''
Your blood does not make you good or bad, it is your actions that tip the scales.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
''I'm going to be the best warrior ever!'' Silverpaw crowed excitedly, eyes like slivers of shiny jade. ''And y'all can be my servants!'' The silver tabby teased, poking Waxpaw in the ribs as she paced up and down the length of the den. ''Don't worry, I'll be nice!''
Beetlepaw chuckled softly, her shadow-dark tail swaying softly. ''Aww, I'm honoured.'' Rising to her paws, Beetlepaw loomed over Silverpaw like a living, breathing tree. ''So I'm guessing you want to be leader?'' The dark cat purred with amusement. ''Well, you're going to be waiting for an awfully long time, only the most honourable and loyal cats even stand a chance of being leader.'' She explained, whiskers twitching. ''And you're young, try becoming a warrior first.''
Next to her, lay a black and white cat. ''Personally, I don't see what all the fuss is about becoming leader.'' Magpiepaw admitted, shaking her head solemnly. A short tail curled around her back paws as she looked up at Beetlepaw, staring at her with adoration. ''Although if anyone's gonna become leader, I think Beetlepaw would be the best one.'' Smiling softly, Magpiepaw nodded once again. ''I'll just stick to being a warrior, I know that's where I'm going to end up!''
The honey-gold tom batted lightly at Silverpaw's ears, shooing the bouncy young apprentice away from his ribcage. ''You're just saying that 'cause you're in love with Beetlepaw.'' Waxpaw mocked, smiling warmly at her. ''Every cat in the clan knows you two love each other, small-wonder that you two turned up at the same time.'' Ignoring their protests, Waxpaw turned to Silverpaw and grinned at the young cat. ''And you, do you love anyone?''
''I love my mum!'' Silverpaw's reply was immediate, fit to bursting with earnestness. ''And my dad, but he's a bit annoying.'' She confessed, glancing out of the apprentice's den; The scene before her was that of Burdockfoot appearing to be pointedly ignoring Blueclaw, their relationship had long since gotten staler than a shriveled up old mouse. ''Although if I know anything about love, its that they don't love each other anymore...'' With a forlorn sigh, Silverpaw turned to her friends and tried to smile. ''At least I've got you lot!''
Friends are family too-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yarrowshine stood on the roof, peering into the heavens with eyes as distant as the stars she watched. A pale-white tail twisted around her paws, to and fro as thoughts wandered and spirits murmured into tall, pricked ears; She had hoped to hear Neritefang once again, but the calico cat was nowhere to be seen, her timeless spirit having retired into eons of rest and Yarrowshine knew that deep down, it was what she deserved.
''You can't do that.'' She suddenly spoke, with a voice choked by a thick blanket of fog that had rolled in with the setting sun. ''You just can't, I don't think they could take it.'' Yarrowshine closed her eyes, listening to the wind's outrage. ''Lilystream died and you already want to punish them?'' The pale cat trembled in the gale, evidently that was her response and suddenly the stars hid away like mice, winking out into oblivion. ''You can't...'' Yarrowshine sighed, ears pinned back against her skull. ''...What can I do? A mere mortal, feuding with time's steadily striding thralls.'' She shook her head, turning to leave when a shadow rose before her.
Rookwing had heaved himself onto the rooftop, a bringer of bad news. ''Yarrowshine, sorry to interrupt you...'' He took a deep breath, the cold air fresh in his lungs. ''...Lilystream's funeral, we need to be there.'' Rookwing's voice was grave, although not as grave as Lilystream's grave. ''I know you weren't close but she...she was a good cat.''
''I know, she's resting in StarClan now.'' Yarrowshine replied, glancing skywards. ''She's watching over her kits, and I assure you that she bears no resement to the healers.'' Glancing pointedly towards a weepy Trouttail, Yarrowshine approached the white cat's body; Heaving with pale flowers and sweet-smelling herbs. ''Farewell, Lilystream.'' The curious cat raised her nose into the air. ''Have a safe journey.''
One by one, the clan shuffled in to give their farewells and one by one, Lilystream's friends gathered around her body; Gooseflight, Sparrowcloud, Hawktuft, Darkfur, Elmstorm, Hazelstone and Beechstripe huddled around her, ready to give their goodbyes.
The first one was Beechstripe, shuffling awkwardly to the head of the throng. ''Lilystream...Li-Lilystream was such a good cat.'' The tabby tom whimpered, tail twitching as he tried to suck in a stuttering breath. ''She might have been a bit...a bit snobby, but Lilystream was...was never mean.'' Beechstripe confessed this loudly, trembling like a wind-rattled leaf; His only wish was that he had been able to speak to her without the threatening influence of Vervainthroat.
The second was Hazelstone, looming over the friendly-faced corpse. ''I must admit that we didn't talk much, but I knew her in my apprentice-days.'' The blind tom-cat looked around, seeing nobody but addressing everybody. ''But Lilystream was every bit a loyal cat, like you and you...'' With a solemn sigh, the pale-furred tom curled his tail around his paws. ''If it wasn't for her, Garlicstar and Briarcloud would be dead.''
Elmstorm loped up to Lilystream's side, long-steady strides to hide a storm of emotions. ''Why did she have to die now?'' The dappled tabby croaked. ''When we were just getting along?'' Angry green eyes flashed like emeralds and Elmstorm stared vehemently at the roof, as though she may somehow challenge StarClan through the layers of slate, wood and granite. ''Darn it, Lilystream...Just when I was about to fall in love too.'' The fire was clear, and yet there was no venom in her words; Only grief, burning bright.
Darkfur and Hawktuft came as one, heads bowed like shamed kings or prisoners awaiting execution. ''We always flirted with her.'' Hawktuft muttered, embarrassment clear on their features. ''And she took it with patience, although I doubt that she ever liked us back.'' The shaggy tom turned to his friend, prodding his ribs. ''And now...now she's got kits left behind and we...we...''
''We promise to look after her kits, till we see her again.'' Darkfur nodded wisely, tail twitching. ''Lilystream, we promise to protect them! We won't fail you!'' The tabby turned to his friend, courage in his eyes. ''Come on, Hawktuft.'' Darkfur ordered, nudging his friend. ''Don't worry, cry it all out, man.'' Hawktuft did not respond, biting back his despair and shambling after Darkfur.
''She may have been a bully, sure.'' Gooseflight crept to the front, a shambling, wolf-dark figure. ''But I could tell she was changing, bit by bit.'' Glancing at Sparrowcloud, Gooseflight frowned slightly. ''And we were apprentices alongside her, and now we're all scattered; Lilystream dead, Vervainthroat exiled and us? I don't even think we're ever going to work.'' Gooseflight confessed, tail twitching as she fiddled with a petal caught between her claws. ''And I promise to Lilystream that I'm going to be kind towards her kits, even if she never was to me in life.''
Sparrowcloud nodded quietly, sitting in silence. ''Goodbye Lilystream.'' He sighed, before rising to his paws and withdrawing from the clan, sulking away in his nest of moss and sweet-smelling heather; Sparrowcloud had nothing to say to a cat that had largely ignored him for much of his life, a peace that Sparrowcloud knew he was doomed to wander for the rest of his life.
Outside, the reeds rattled and Lilystream for a moment, walked along the stream and her green eyes glittered softly. ''Goodbye.'' She whispered, watching Briarcloud and Bramblefur dragging her body out of camp; Not towards the blackened oak, but beside the stream, where she had learned to swim like an otter; It was there, Lilystream had had her fondest memories and it was only right that she rested beside the stream that had given her her name.
Honour the dead, and they'll honour you.Beetlepaw and Magpiepaw go training.
Silverpaw and Waxpaw go training.
Slatenose, Copperberry and Harefoot go on a patrol.
Mistclaw, Smokeheart and Fallowthorn go on a patrol.
Yarrowshine reads something in stars; What prophecy have her eyes picked out?
![https://media1.tenor.com/images/61d5b02a8be7fdd332153cbd9348c7d5/tenor.gif?itemid=6948066]X](https://media1.tenor.com/images/61d5b02a8be7fdd332153cbd9348c7d5/tenor.gif?itemid=6948066){kind=link}
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc()/step_4-disease-59b9b6a9d963ac0011faca31-59bae508396e5a0010365c5b.jpg){kind=link}
