mistfeather

A sigh escaped her lips. As much as she loved leaving the confines of her nest, dragging herself towards the river became more and more exasperating each time. The elder wondered. Would this be her last trip outside of camp? There was no doubt she was close to the end of her life. Cloudstone made her very aware of her situation. After all, she was one of the oldest cats in the forest. Perhaps Thrushstripe and Fishstar kept going due to some special strength given to them by StarClan when they earn their lives. Yet she was sure they felt the emotional drain she felt every day. Somehow, despite all that, the two kept on going.

Just when she felt that Fishstar was going to live for many more moons to come, an illness hit her sister. She could feel the life ebbing away from the old leader with each day. How many lives had she been through? How many did she have left? None of it mattered. Before she could say her final goodbye, Fishstar was dead.

The shock hit the she-cat like nothing she'd ever experienced. Fishstar, her leader, her best friend, her family. Her big sister. The memories of her kithood and apprenticeship were still fresh in her mind. She could remember the day her sister earned her warrior name. Mistfeather couldn't have been more proud. Without their mother, Fishstar had become a figure for her young tabby sister to follow. Her example as Sunstar's deputy gave her the strength to carry on her duties as deputy when it came her sister's turn to lead. Her inspirations, her dreams, her guide. Everything she could want to be was and always had been her sister. Nothing could have been more devastating than to lose the one who lasted through everything, thick and thin.

The elder forced herself out of her den, nearly dragging herself with what little strength she had. The only place that gave her comfort anymore was the river. Despite all the struggles and pain she had been through, the river was a constant peace in her mind. So many fond memories laid within the cool waters. As she pulled herself towards the edge and stared at her reflection, she began to notice the frost that dotted the bank. The icy grass caused her fur to raise in an attempt to fight the cold that suddenly bit against her pelt. Yet Mistfeather ignored it. She dipped a white paw into the waters, wincing and hissing at the crisp water. She was here to clear her mind. Nothing could keep her from this peaceful moment. Until a crunching sound forced her ears to turn back, searching for its source.

---

A tom approached from behind the elder, yellow-green eyes watching her ageing grey pelt. Rainstorm swallowed hard as his brown paws carried him forward, crunching the frosted grass beneath him. He had been watching his mother as she dragged herself out of camp. A small part of him admired her determination to reach the riverside but the rest of him hissed at her idiocy. She was a stupid she-cat to pull herself out in such chilling weather. Even if she was mourning.

Fishstar's death had affected everyone, that much was true. But for Rainstorm, his emotions were blank. While the leader did a fine job, and he was surely impressed with her attempts at war, his impressions of his aunt have never been high. The tom, as much as he hated every other clan, never loved RiverClan as much as he should have. After everything he had been through, the trauma that made him who he was today, he could never love RiverClan. Not really.

The tom couldn't understand his mother's sadness. So much of him wanted to care, but her indiscretions kept him from doing so. To everyone else, she was a respected elder, RiverClan's former deputy. To him, and his sister, the newly named Ivystar, she was a liar and a criminal. She had abandoned her own kits, half-blood kits no less, and left them with their no-good father. Duskfall, despite how hard he tried, was no better than Mistfeather. When times got rough, and ThunderClan's life had been put in danger, he shoved them back into their birth clan and left. Even upon his return, he never spoke to them, choosing instead to mate with some old hag and love his new kits. Rainstorm cursed his father since the day he was brought back to his mother, his eyes always growing cold at the thought of that blasted brown tom.

Yet, it seemed like StarClan was trying to curse him. His own children resembled his deceased father more than he could ever want. His own child, burdened with the ex-deputy's name and pelt, was a constant reminder of a past Rainstorm wanted to forget. But the sight of his mother and kit always brought back those memories.

He loved his kit. He loved his mate and no part of him ever blamed her for the sadness that his children caused him. But he didn't love Mistfeather.

He hated her.

---

"You're far from home, Mistfeather," the tom spoke, eyes narrowed. The she-cat jumped. She sat up and twisted her body towards her son, sighing softly as his familiar pelt came into her increasingly hazy view.

"Rainstorm," she purred softly, sadness clear in her deep green eyes. "I didn't hear you. What brings you here?" She scanned him, watching him move closer and closer. Her body tensed up involuntarily as she caught his gaze. It was cold. As cold as the water she pawed at moments earlier. She felt something in her throat rise. The fur on her neck puffed up further. She had never had a good relationship with her son, a fact she blamed herself for in every circumstance, but something about the way he swayed, the way he looked at her. For the first time in her life, she felt afraid of her own clanmate.

The tom breathed out deeply. "I saw you leave camp. Why would someone as frail and old as you leave the comfort of your nest without someone to watch over you? Ivystar would be worried sick if something were to happen to you." The tom paused beside the tabby elder. He watched her stiffen. Good. She was right to be afraid.

"I see..." For a moment she glanced away, down to the river, staring at her reflection. Her eyes turned to her son's. He resembled his father too much sometimes. Yet now, as she looked at the rippled form in the waters, she saw nothing but danger. "What do you really want, Rainstorm?" Mistfeather turned back, staring him in the eyes. It was time to cut to the chase.

"You're a smart old lady, aren't you?" he chuckled, cocking his head before taking a seat. "I'll get right to it then. I want you gone." There was no remorse in his tone. There was no secret meaning behind his words. He wanted her dead. Mistfeather stared at him, muzzle curling slightly.

"I'm sure you're wondering, why now? After all this time? After every opportunity? Well, I couldn't have Fishstar finding out, now could I? No matter how much of a traitor you are, your beloved sister would always forgive you, leaving me dead on the ground myself." He flicked a few small stones into the soft current, watching them sink with a pure interest. He wondered. Could an injured cat, even with moons of swimming experience, sink? Would this cripple in front of him sink like the pebbles he watched so intently? "Ivystar doesn't hold the respect for you that our aunt did. She was abandoned by you, just like me. I'm sure she could forgive her brother more than she can ever forgive you." His voice rose with each word, growing more and more into a hiss.

"I didn--" "I don't care for your excuses. You gave us up. You gave us, your own children, away to that cowardly tom you called your lover! He tried as a father, yes he did, and while we were living in an ignorant bliss forgetting about your milk and scent, he brought us right back into the lies and deceit after giving up because of a simple mistake that no one could have predicted. Do you think we were happy being tossed right back into your waiting paws? We knew we weren't wanted by you. That much was evident the moment we learned how easily you gave us to Duskfall." Rainstorm stood up, his back arching with the anger that filled his body. The elder pulled back, trying to distance herself from the aggressive brown tom. But the pain in her spine limited her movement. She could only shuffle slowly as he took careful steps towards her.

"It wasn't that simple, Rainstorm. Y-Your father and I agreed to bring you together when the opportunity came," she mewled, shoulders raised and ears turned down. There was only one thing she felt. Fear. Her green eyes swept the area, looking for a way out. But the tom was smart and backed his mother against the river. "Y-You don't have to do this. I'll do anything to make up for my mistakes! I've been haunted by them all this time. Let me atone for my sins. I can make everything better. I promise, son, I can love you like I should have."

It was helpless. No matter what words came out of her mouth.

"Anything, you say?" A cruel grin flashed across his for a brief moment. "There's one thing you can do for me..." His paw reached up to graze her shoulder softly.

"Die."

The tom pushed against her, claws digging into her flesh as he shoved her into the cold waters. He froze, watching her as she sunk into the waters, her fluffed up pelt seemingly melting at the water began to soak every inch of her body. Rainstorm couldn't help but smile before taking a few steps forward to lean over the edge.

Mistfeather coughed and sputtered, the breath in her lungs gone the instant her back slapped against the frigid river. Her body instantly went into shock as she fell deeper into the darkness, her mind frozen until the water began to fill her nose.

The will to live was strong. The pain in her spine seemed to disappear as she kicked against the current, pushing herself back to the surface. Her body still wasn't what it use to be. Each kick sucked more energy from her than she could ever imagine. She never expected staying afloat to become such a task. It had once been so easy. As easy as breathing.

The elder, partially choking, gasped for air as the chill began to seep into her skin. Her paw had become rather cold just from simply splashing around, it was no lie her body would succumb to the brisk nature of a leaf-fall river. With her body temperature lowering, her organs slowly began to fail. Her heart pumped a foxlength a minute, her eyes were open wide and dilated, and her breath came out shallow and ragged. "P-Please," she begged, legs fruitlessly kicking, her pace losing speed. The tabby bobbed, dropping down and swallowing more and more water before rising and spitting it all out.

Rainstorm paused, staring down with rigid, chartreuse eyes. "Why are you trying so hard? You get to be with your sister. Maybe even that worthless tom you loved so much," he growled. Leaning forward, he pet her soaked head softly. "Now please, for me,  just die." his voice groaned, a grunt of effort escaping his mouth as he pressed down hard, forcing her into the water. The she-cat struggled, swiping her paws upwards in an attempt to push his foreleg away, but as he added the strength of his other paw her struggle held less power behind each swipe. Bubbles rose from where he assumed her muzzle was, infrequent and large.

The tom's breath was heavy as he eyed the water. A few small pockets of air rose to the surface before ending completely. The retaliating force that pushed against his paws faded. He let go of his grip, letting the body float back up where it lay limp.

"Finally..." the brown tom huffed. He flopped down in relief, holding her form in place with a few claws. A soft sigh escaped his lips. It was over. For once, he felt free. "Now, to tell everyone else."

Rainstorm sprang into the waters, inhaling sharply as the cold soaked his fur just like it had his mother. He sat for a few moments, legs paddling in the waters, breath fast and ragged. Once a reasonable time had passed, he dragged himself onto the riverbank and shook his fur out. He reached down, grabbing the elder by the scruff of the neck and tugging her onto the ground beside him. The warrior shivered as the frosty air hit his soaked pelt but sunk his fangs deeper into her now pale skin. With a forceful pull to start him off, he managed to drag the body as he walked back towards camp. It would be easy to lie. The elder slipped, fell into the freezing river, but it was too late. By the time he arrived she was already gone. All he could do was mourn.

He let out a fake cry as he reached the camp's borders. He contorted his face into something miserable and haggard, throwing in a stumble to finish the act.

With another loud sob, Rainstorm called out.

"Mistfeather is dead!"

Forgiveness, justice, resilience, clear sight, patience, loyalty, confidence, faith and humility.

Those were the virtues that StarClan had bestowed on the silver leader, giving her the qualities needed to be the beacon of righteousness that RiverClan needed. A warrior who will fight for not only the clan, but StarClan. But that all seemed to crumble away into dust as she watched the confrontation on the river's edge, hidden in the reeds as her brother and mother settled their differences. A voice distantly called for her to forgive, to forget the transgressions that were made against her and her family, to understand the foolishness that lead to her conception. That even the strongest were just cats too, foolish, stupid cats with hearts as fickle as a fox's. But there was another voice inside, the voice of a kit who lost everything, a tiny apprentice, light as a feather, who felt broken and hurt. Who's screams of rage silenced the wise voice of wisdom that called for peace with the shrieks of revenge.

All of Rainstorm's words rung true with her, his anger was her anger.

Bowed, bent, broken.

They were the unwanted scraps tossed between clans, not belonging anywhere. Too ThunderClan for RiverClan, too RiverClan for ThunderClan. She was the leader now, but how many moons had she spent lying to herself, her leader, her kits, her clan? She was stuck with this damn burden of her heritage until the day she died, unable to tell the whole truth to anyone. No one would understand her, no one would see that she was fives times more loyal than any other bastard cat, five times stronger, five times more loving. All they'd see was her bloodline, and she'd heard enough hateful spiels from Fishstar about ThunderClan to guess what her fate would have been if the truth had been revealed.

Forgiveness was for the pure of blood, pure of heart. It was for cats who hadn't lived in webs of lives like her, had their whole fate twisted on it's head because of another and had to float by with fear of falling at any misstep.

She didn't want Mistfeather dead, but when Rainstorm shoved their mother into the icy depths, she did nothing. Instead of a knee-jerking desire to save her, she felt peace.

There was no need to fear now.

Together, they'd endured, swimming across a river in a storm to reach RiverClan, leaving behind all they'd known. Together, they'd survived RiverClan, lying through their teeth as they grieved the loss of Lilacpaw in secret. Together, they'd killed ThunderClan warrior after ThunderClan warrior, watching their blood painting Sunningrocks red.

And together, they'd keep this secret until they died.

No one needed to know.

As Rainstorm dragged out Mistfeather's corpse out of the river, Ivystar slipped back to camp using the same route that she'd travelled. She hid her nerves, the odd twinges in her heart of guilt and grief, as she curled up in her nest, preparing for the inevitable hysterics that would follow. Conceal, don't feel, she whispered to herself, conceal, don't feel.