a grave of rocks [closed, death topics]

It had felt like for she'd been running for an eternity, for moons. And in a sense, she had. Her kits had already grown old enough to almost take on warrior names - that was how long she had been in Riverclan. Kitefire had been fleeing long before than. But this seemed to be something that she could not out run, something that had condemned her from the very beginning... herself. She had been born caught between two clans with parents whose lives were divided like clan borders and eventually became as fractured as clan tensions. The little red she-cat had never wanted to know about her father or where she had come from but none of that had ever been a choice.

The rest had been.

For the first time it had truly come crashing down on her that everything since her birth had been of her own design, her own impulsive and selfish decisions. Whatever churning settled in her pelt and had caused her to be endlessly uneasy and malcontent was all her own fault. Kitefire hated coming to terms with this. Pressing herself into Jayshriek's pelt had been a respite from the world and from such thoughts but it never once absolved her from this growing mountain of guilt. She'd torn Flypaw from loyalty to the clan and invoked the anger of the leader who had taken her in. Even if Ivystar was not a perfect cat and had done a poor job raising Jayshriek, it did not overshadow the redemption that had been offered to the former Thunderclan warrior - nor did it excuse the way Kitefire had so callously thrown it away.

This particular night the she-cat couldn't seem to quiet the things that spun in her head, dancing like fireflies with the drive of angry hornets. She hadn't even said goodbye to her sister in Thunderclan. Kitefire had slipped through the reeds near the back of camp. It had been silent, calm, and quiet. Even the stars seemed to not understand the anguish twisting about inside her, instead mocking her with this external peace. It was dangerous to be out alone and she knew that. The stakes were even higher for a cat with a deafened ear. But that didn't matter because she couldn't think clearly and it drowned out the anxiety that had kept her in the shadow of other cats for so long; it reminded her of when she had fled Thunderclan. Minkstar's voice was still as clear as the sound of the rushing river ahead.

She shook her head trying to dispel the memory of the Thunderclan leader as tears welled up at the edge of her vision. If she could find a way to shake everything away then perhaps after it would be easy to sink back into a reed-lined nest and pretend nothing had ever been wrong in the first place. How many cats had she failed now? Far to many to count. Two whole clans in which she was little more than a burden, and a third whose dirty secret she was. Not only had her father been a traitor but also one who eventually promised himself to the stars. How could such a tom proclaim to be so devout after what he had done to them? To Cedarheart?

There came a rapid chorus of excited barks to her left. Kitefire froze, eyes growing wide. They weren't in sight yet but by the sound of it, the twolegs were stirring already. She wanted to go back to camp but didn't want to lead them there... perhaps if she just ran and his. Yes, that would do it. The she-cat took off, racing along the side of the river. Eventually, the terrain drew more treacherous and rocky. Her heart was beating erratically and already she was tired having ran this far from camp. Recent events had lead to a lack of food which had sapped her strength. Another bark. She had no choice but to keep going.

Scrabbling up the rocks, pebbles began to scatter down after her. If only she could reach the top. Sides heaving she reached up trying to grip another hold. But with another shower of dust and little rocks, her paws seemed to give out from under her. The world spun for a moment before everything faded out.
___

When she finally regained consciousness it seemed as if air was being squeezed from her lungs. Air came in short rasping breaths. Kitefire squinted and it hurt. Assessing the situation, it appeared that she couldn't see her own pelt past her shoulder, the rest was rocks. Good news was at least it seemed the dogs hadn't followed. Sunlight had just begun to touch the sky. Every little movement seemed like it was overwhelming... she just wanted to sleep. Listening to her own ragged breathing, the she-cat was resigned to just lay here, feeling the life become sapped from her body.

"So... this is it, huh... guess it is a fitting resting place..."

Dewlight stopped suddenly, smelling blood. Her eyes widened as she rushed forward, coming across a pile of rocks with a hardly moving figure under them. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down and realized that she recognized the cat, although barely. "K-Kitefire...." Her voice was hardly a whisper as she started to survey the situation, the surrounding rocks. There was no way to remove them, they were piled far too high... She would run the risk of accidentally burying herself as well. Stepping forward, she lowered herself to Kitefire's head. "I'm so sorry, I don't think there's anything I can do besides sit with you...." She mewed, her voice catching in her throat at the gruesome fate the other she-cat faced.

When they’d spotted Dewlight halfway through the reeds leading out of camp, Flypaw had insisted on coming along. They’d heard the whispers. Kitefire had disappeared in the night, and no one had seen a hair of her since. Some cats had their theories as to where she’d gone. For maybe the first time in their life, Flypaw didn’t care what RiverClan said. Though they’d rather pull out their own whiskers than confide in Kitefire right now, she was still their mother, and the last time someone hadn’t come back…

They’d refused to think of it that way at first. Then Dewlight’s eyes went wide out of nowhere, and a second later, Flypaw tasted blood at the back of their throat. They hurried after Dewlight, skidding to a stop beside her. What they were seeing didn’t make sense. It was just rocks. They glanced up and down, vaguely aware of the fur bristling down their back, until they abruptly realized what Dewlight was staring at: not the rocks, but the russet pelt beneath them.

One glance was enough. Their stomach climbed into their throat. Flypaw threw themself against one of the broadest rocks, to no avail. They’d always been small, and the moons of near-starvation had done them no favors. They pushed, their small paws sliding, leaving streaks in the dirt from the force of it. The tower of rocks refused to budge. Later, they would realize this was a good thing. They whirled upon Dewlight. “Why aren’t you doing something?!” Their voice broke in the middle, undercutting the anger. It wasn't fair, and they knew it; RiverClan warriors didn't just stand by when their Clanmates were in danger unless there was a reason. But yelling meant they wouldn't have to hear Kitefire’s labored breathing. Tail lashing, they tried again. “There’s two of us, we can—we have to—we can't let her die!”

Her eyes fluttered slightly, finding the pale light of the moon an overwhelming gleam. There was a glimpse of Dewlight, soft words. She smiled weakly and breathed out a soft 'thanks'. It felt so strange, so out of place, to speak in such a condemning moment. Kitefire wondered if in another cat's final moments if she would be so resigned and willing to simply sit while they parted. She gulped, finding it harder and harder to suck in the air. Rocks squeezed her breath away, like a tender minnow crushed underneath a cat's pads.

And then... black fur before her. Kitefire felt a brief surge of a will to live, to free herself from this impossible situation. She wanted to feel their warmth, to surround her kit like she'd done when they were small and helpless. Flypaw seemed helpless once more. There was a nearly inaudible sigh and silent tears budded up from the edges of her gaze. Pads sought to cling to the paws in the most feeble and futile way. After a moment, the she-cat stopped her struggle, accepted the only fate that she could. Closing her eyes, the Thunderclan born cat flicked her ears slightly.

"Shhh, my kit, don't mourn me. I finally won't... have... to run... anymore. And you won't... have to run... from me."

With this, came a final slow breath. So much love budded up in her expression as she fixated her gaze on them for one last time. Flypaw would be fine without her, she was certain of it. Her head tipped, falling to the side but never once leaving their face. Features spoke something that Kitefire did not have the breath to say. As she glimpsed at her kit, it reminded her of Jayshriek. A pure smile, content. I love you.