|:| a deer never leaves her home |:| [return from the missing topic; OPEN]

Deerpaw stood at the camp entrance, her mouth dry.

She'd grown over the past moons; her coat was sleeker and thicker, half of her face covered in pitch back, only her pale blue eyes staring out, emotionless. Being alone for such a long time had made her skinnier, but she wasn't close to death. In fact, she'd worked so hard to groom herself and look as good as she could for this place. Where she'd come from. Where she was born. Where her family was. Where Lionfur had died.

The beautiful calico limped into the clearing, the stump where her hind leg had been torn off covered in thick black fur. Her heart began to beat quicker, a whimper building up in her heart, a cry of pity. Will no one remember me? Memories seemed lost in the wave of loneliness that crashed over her, drowned her alive.

Willowwhisker was sitting outside the nursery getting some fresh air when she saw a familiar looking cat enter the camp. Who... Oh, my Starclan! That's Deerpaw! She rushed towards Deerpaw as fast as she could, slowed down a little by her protruding belly."Oh my! Deerpaw! Are you ok?!" She immediately began licking her coat to warm her up, her motherly instincts kicking in instantly."Deerpaw, would you like some fresh kill? Do you need the medicine cat?" Millions of questions raced through her head, but she tried not to bombard the young she-cat.

Squirrelpaw was laying in the clearing, her fluffy ginger fur glistening in the sunlight, no longer matted down and almost covering the ugly scar across her neck. Chewing on the hare in front of her, she heard Willowwhisker exclaiming something. Turning around, her heart almost skipped a beat.

Deerpaw.

Sister. Oh my gosh. Deerpaw. Great Starclan. Yes. No. 

Thoughts raced through Squirrelpaw's mind so fast she thought she would die from it. Opening her mouth in surprise, Squirrelpaw raced towards her sister. Nuzzling her all over as Willowwhisker did she smiled. She wanted to speak so badly. Her sister, her beloved big sister, looked so different. Her fur looked so smooth and thick, but she was skinnier than even her Windclan clan. Her eyes clouded over in worry. Where have you been? she tried to say, nodding her head towards the moors but keeping her eyes on her sister.

Seeming surprised and flustered by Willowwhisker, Deerpaw let herself be babied, hating herself for loving the feeling. She'd been away for so long, and it felt so good to be with some cats again—though she dreaded Smokepelt's appearance.
"Willowwhisker!" she suddenly gasped, loping back, unsure whether to smile or cry. "You—you're expecting ki—kits?"

And then her little sister came and she broke.

No words came out of her mouth—she simply wrapped around her sister, squeezing her eyes shut, trying and failing to stop the onslaught of tears. Times alone, with no one to talk to, had hardened her, but for a moment she simply let her guard fall. Curled into her littermate, her familiar scent wafting into her nostrils, Deerpaw cried. They had both been the victims of so much hardship in their lives, and now, it felt as though the young calico's heart was being beaten with jagged rocks, slammed again and again in pure agony.

Nightheart was resting under the shade of the gorse surrounding the camp at the other end of the camp, her mind drifting to all kinds of places. The dark warrior hadn’t been taking well the pat events, and in all honesty she felt sincerely older than she really was as the weight of her past increased by second on her shoulders, reason why she had been going on less and less patrols lately and she had been interacting with less cats.

However, when a name reached her ears, her eyes snapped open and the weight was suddenly lifted from her tired back, even if just temporarily “Deerpaw?” Her voice was a mere whisper as she talked to herself, her head bolting up from between her paws and turning to face the entrance of the camp. Tears filling her eyes as her long lost daughter was spotted between the gathering cats “Deerpaw!”

Without wasting a single second, she got on her paws and rushed towards her kit, a kit that she feared to never see again “My kit, where were you?! I was so worried…I thought…I feared…” With joy and relief filling the warrior’s heart and tears of happiness rolling down her face, she started to nuzzle and lick the younger cat, unable to turn her thoughts into words.