If I could trade her life for mine [Open;; DunDUN Snowpaw died]

When an hour passed and no one returned, Sparkwillow felt exasperated. All this fuss over a little joking, the she-cat rolled her eyes as she plucked out more damn feathers to line Snowpaw's nest for her. In hindsight, she should have been more careful, the fact Snowpaw was taking a while was a sensitive topic, but ehhh... She was so touchy at times, Snowpaw needed a few catnips leaves to chill out.

But then another hour passed, patrols filtered in and changed hands. Yet still her sister and father weren't returning. It was odd.

"Frogjaw, did you cross paths with my dad or Snowpaw?"

"Hm? No, why? Wasn't Otterleap in the dawn patrol? Why would he be out? And Snowpaw? I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be in the elder's den." The older warrior seemed confused, but Sparkwillow didn't have time to explain their petty family drama. Also she had no interest in airing their dirty moss out, Snowpaw definitely would hate her if she made her out to be a crykit.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll go check if they're making dirt. Thanks!" With that, the calico shot off through the reeds, nose pressed against the earth as she tracked the faint, wispy scent of her sister. It was odd, there were moments when her scent faded off like rain had washed it away, but then hints of her father's scent help lead her. "Otterleap? Snowpaw? Anyone?"

She ran into something wet. It felt unpleasant against her forepaws, cold like a piece of prey left out overnight during Leafbare. But the scent was fresh, untainted with blood so she expected to see a drowned chick from the heron's that nested sometimes near the gorge. But no, it was too white and fur too dense. Her eyes knew what they saw, but her mind refused to make the connections. Green eyes, soft white fur, a sweet pink nose and a warm familiar scent that was hidden behind a clean watery mask. No, StarClan, no. No, she couldn't summon the courage to connect the dots, to realise what she was looking upon.

Sparkwillow yowled herself hoarse, choking gasps binding her down. The warrior was paralysed as she stood over her sister, she didn't even have the mind to search for her father, she pressed her nose down between shouts, nudging her sister to move, pleading to the stars. And after the fiftieth useless nudge, she knelt down with shaking limbs and jaws to grip Snowpaw by the scruff. She had to take her back to clan, she couldn't leave her out there. She refused to let her sister become crowfood.

By the time she reached the camp entrance, Snowpaw's beautiful pelt was more brown than white, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sparkwillow laid out her sister gently on the earth, licking her to try clean her, not saying a word, even when Frogjaw looked over concerned.

"Get Cloudstone." Ivyfall hissed to no one specific, looking down with an old demon haunting her at the sight of the dead apprentice. Another life was lost.

The novelty of being an apprentice had yet to wear off for Splashpaw- she still enjoyed tedious tasks such as changing out bedding for other cats or repairing gaps in foliage that made up dens. Today Fallowstripe had set her with the task of ridding the Elder's den of all the soiled moss, which she happily obliged in doing. Wrinkling her nose at the foul taste of old moss, Splashpaw wriggled backwards through the tightly-bound entrance to the den, wincing at the way that her jaw was stretched in an attempt to try and gather all the moss in one trip. Spinning around to face the center of the camp, Splashpaw's eyes went as wide as the full moon at the sight that greeted her. All of the moss she had crammed into her jaws spilled out at the sight of Sparkwillow numbly grooming Snowpaw's ominously still, slumped form. Letting out a loud cry of surprise, she rushed forwards towards her two sister, heart-racing in panic.

"Snowpaw? What happened? A-are you feeling alright?" Splashpaw questioned slowly, looking up at her twin sister with huge eyes. Her concern only grew whenever Snowpaw remained silent, awkwardly splayed out at Sparkwillow's paws. Was this some sort of joke that Sparkwillow and Snowpaw planned? Well it wasn't very funny! "Snowpaw," She mewed a bit more sharply now, "This isn't funny anymore- cut it out." She continued, a slight tremble evident in her panicky voice. Snowpaw still didn't move. Reaching out to gently prod at her sibling's form to try and get her to move, Splashpaw was startled to feel how limp the white she-cat was underpaw. A strange scent wafted from Snowpaw- she smelled almost like...recently killed prey. "Snowpaw?" She croaked weakly once more, ears falling flat against her skull.

Letting out a distressed noise at the lack of response, Splashpaw pressed tightly against Sparkwillow, throat growing tight as she observed the concerned glances from Ivyfall and Frogjaw. Her mouth open and closed several times as she watched Sparkwillow silently groom Snowpaw's normally pristine fur. Reaching out once more, she began to paw at Snowpaw's limp form once more, gently rocking her sister's form as if she could wake her up. The awkward stiffness in the other apprentice's body made her feel sick and she quickly buried her face in Sparkwillow's fur, unable to look at Snowpaw any longer. Where was Otterleap or Shellwater? They'd know what to do! A large part of her wanted to wail for her parents, but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she'd be sick. Finally pushing away the wave of nausea that made her feel as if the entire world was spinning, Splashpaw pulled her face away from Sparkwillow's fur and faced her littermate shakily.
"Sparkwillow.." She whimpered, "What..what happened?"

Shellwater made her way back from her patrol with a fat carp in her jaws, planning to bring it to Snowpaw and Splashpaw to share. The sunshiny day couldn't have been more relaxed. Yet something still felt off. Ever since her apprentice Toadpaw had disappeared into that fog, she had had trouble shaking off the guilt that it was her fault. But Otterleap had been there for her. He always was. A small smile touched the RiverClan warrior's mouth at the thought of her wonderful mate and their three stunning kits. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost any more of her family. The calico she-cat trotted back to RiverClan camp, shaking off the disturbing feeling.

The moment she entered camp, time seemed to slow down. Casting her sparkling, burnished orange eyes around the place, searching for her family, she saw all three of her daughters sitting together near the fresh-kill pile. But something was horribly wrong. Snowpaw lay limp on the ground, in a lax position very unlike her. She was always so uptight, trying to look good to gain Fishstar's and her parents' approval. Sitting by her, Sparkwillow wore a devastated, empty expression as she groomed mud from her sister's long, fluffy white fur. Snowpaw never let herself get that dirty. Splashpaw's face was streaked with tears as the normally bubbly she-cat gazed with a distressed expression at her warrior sister. Even as she stood there, comprehending all she saw in one disastrous second, the scarred she-cat suddenly understood what had happened. And the realization was terrible.

The piece of fresh-kill dropped from her mouth, forgotten in the wake of this new horror. Time moved in slow motion as Shellwater ran towards her kits, eyes filled with disbelief. Holding on to some tiny strand of hope within her, the she-cat gently nudged Snowpaw on the shoulder with a calico paw. It had been their personal signal when she was a kit that it was time for her to get up, to go play with her siblings outside. But her daughter was ice-cold, as limp as a reed in the rushing river, completely and utterly still. Her shadowy green eyes were empty, staring up at the unforgivingly gray sky above. The RiverClan she-cat nudged her daughter again desperately, mouth forming words she couldn't get past the sudden blockage in her throat. No. No. No, no, no, no, no! StarClan, no! The calico mother's delicate shoulders slumped as she stared at the limp white form that was no longer Snowpaw. Her daughter, who had tried so hard for so long to be a warrior in spite of her disability, who had loved her family and Clan with everything she had, whose only wish had been to protect her Clanmates, sweet, loving, determined, Snowpaw... was dead.

A terrible, long, drawn-out cry of unimaginable grief and despair wrenched itself from Shellwater's shattered heart as hot, blinding tears rolled thick and fast down her cheeks, burnished orange eyes filled with the pain known only by mothers who must outlive their children. Not even Otterleap would be able to console her. She was such a horrible mother, she had caused this, she should have been there, she should have protected her, she should have loved her more, she should have, she should have, she should have.... But it was too late. It was like she was in the river again, being tossed to and fro by the rapids, no hope of ever escaping the strong current that dragged her deeper. She was so deep in the river of her grief that it seemed easier to just swim down. Shellwater had failed as a mother.

Every season was cruel in its own way.

Greenleaf, although known by many as a a time of plenty, was blisteringly hot. RiverClan was lucky to live around so much water. Leaffall was... a long thunderstorm. If Cloudstone's Clan had been fortunate for their water in the previous season, the next made it a curse. Rain, so much rain. It swept the dens away, it swept his Clanmates away. It was the season he hated most. Leafbare, of course, was harsh and cold and empty. Newleaf brought new life and joy to many, but every death that did occur seemed all the more out of place. Unnecessary.

The medicine cat was gathering herbs outside camp when he heard the screech. It filled his blood with ice and turned his paws and stomach into stones. He never wanted to hear that sound again. Sometimes he wondered whether his choice as a kit should've been heeded; he wasn't even a RiverClan cat for StarClan's sake! Why was he the one to do this? He was lucky, he supposed, that his eyes and pelt were too dark to make much of an expression visible. Each day he dreaded seeing what illness and injury and woe were to be thrown in his direction. How often was it that he was called by a scream instead of his own name? The black tom rose, carrying whatever herbs he'd picked up with a limp jaw. He padded through the camp entrance, prepared for the worst. And the worst was what he got.

There was someone on the ground. He couldn't quite see, with Sparkwillow, Splashpaw, Ivyfall, and Shellwater in the way, but few cats in the Clan had such glaringly white fur. It was Snowpaw, wasn't it? His gaze appeared blank as he dropped the plants just inside his den in a mismatched pile, quietly picking up thyme, poppy, anything for their shock. Anything so that he didn't have to hear another scream. Leaves of mint found their way into his mouth. He walked out, eyes fixated on the motionless apprentice. Yet when he reached her, he stopped, letting the herbs fall.

'What am I doing?' Why was it that all he dealt with was death? He healed no one. What a useless job. He wasn't a medicine cat, he was a mortician.

It was terrifying how numb she felt to the sight of another apprentice limp on the sunbaked earth. In many ways, it was a sign of her age, her experience. Ivyfall had seen several litters of kits, some her own, others not, grow up only to be slaughtered by the world that they lived in. They were clan cats that rejected the soft ways of a kittypet, thus everyday was a struggle to survive. Sometimes it was so easy to forget how delicate their lives hung in the balance during seasons like Greenleaf where RiverClan grew fat alongside their prey, but StarClan always reminded them most grimly of their fate. One mistake was all it took for a clan cat to die, misjudge the strength of a current, eat a mouse that was a few days too old, slip while climbing a tree.

There was no need for Cloudstone, Shellwater's yowl of grief confirmed everything she needed to know. Another kit had fallen prey to the brutal cycle of life they lived, and there was nothing to be done about it. Only leaders got to live again through death, and in moments like this, she couldn't help wonder if she really wanted to be dragged back to this again and again for nine lives till StarClan had no more purpose for her and let her finally fade away. She didn't look forward to telling Fishstar about another death, though at least Snowpaw didn't smell of WindClan. There wouldn't be a war on the horizon. Small mercies.

"Cloudstone, check why she died. We need to know if there's a new danger to look out for." Though her voice was succinct and devoid of all emotion, the deputy gave a sympathetic press of furs to the Medicine cat. They both bore the weight of this clan on their shoulders more than anyone, and unlike Fishstar, they weren't blessed by StarClan with wisdoms and lives beyond one cat's comprehension. They both just had to do their best, and suffered each time it wasn't enough.

It was their fate, however morbid it was.

-

There was a grief that couldn't be spoken aloud. A pain that went on and on. Sparkwillow didn't even hear her sister or her mother, just mindlessly licking her sister clean, trying to bring back that white glow that Snowpaw would have wanted from her fur. She hated being dirty, she would have hated this, being on display here while everyone yowled around her in grief. But Snowpaw was dead, and the dead didn't get a say in anything. The she-cat just kept at it, working around paws when cats tried to nudge the apprentice awake. It was all futile in the end, she was just going to be buried anyway, but Sparkwillow needed an outlet for her grief. This was her fault.

"Snowpaw is dead, and Otterleap is missing. All because of me." Sparkwillow said vaguely in response to Splashpaw's question, though it was hardly heard over her mother's wailing cries. "All because of little old me."

There was a gaping hole in her heart that belonged to her sister, how had she never seen what a big part Snowpaw played in her life before? Why did she only know what she wanted and missed when she lost it?