Stay Alive (Closed)

It was dark. And it was cold. Clouds hung swollen, low and dark in the twilight sky. Rain tore past the weak she-cat, coming in waves so strong each one nearly pushed her off her feet. Her white paws were muddy, and her fur hung heavy off of her skinny frame. Her stomach was swollen, and her head was low. Willowheart was breaking.
It started out slow, hairline cracks. Her brothers. Her mother. Nearly undetectable, and hardly painful. The real pain began later, when she was old enough to tell that something was wrong with her heart. Leopardstar's death had only added to the burden she had begun to carry. Honeydrop's betrayal and Gingerstripe's murder were like two boulders, weighing her heart down with sorry. But her father... her father had been the finishing blow.
For a while, Willowheart had believed that she could've been happy. She could've built a family with Ryeheart. She could've visited her family in Riverclan and laughed with her sister. But as she forced her way through the storm, her flanks heavy with rai and her dull eyes focused ahead, a hollow feeling in her chest reminded her that time spent with others was precious.
She should've told Lilacfall she loved her.
She should've said goodbye to her father.

Her belly gave another squirm, sharp needle-like pains spreading through her entire body and making her wince. There was only one thing that mattered now; she had to get to the Thunderpath. She had to see it, had to place her paws once more on the spot where it began, where she began. It was as if a string was connected to a hollow place in her chest, pulling her irresistibly towards the place she had only truly been for a second, a mere moment in time compared to the rest of the black-and-white she-cat's life. Through the haze, through the rain, Willowheart thought she could see it, inching slowly closer to her.
Suddenly she was scared of what she would find there. Her mother, waiting for her? Her brothers? Unreasonable fear clouded Willowheart's mind, her whiskers trembling. But the she-cat didn't stop. She placed a paw on the Thunderpath, then another.

The rain ceased.
Willowheart stood, trembling. Her belly throbbed to the rhythm of her heart. She was painfully aware of her heartbeat now, beating hastily as if it could somehow fill the silence that was beating against her eardrums. The quiet was only broken by the steady drip, drip, drip of tears and rainwater, falling off of her whiskers.
She was here, she could feel it. After all those moons, she was here.
Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe through the sobs of relief, sobs of belonging. She was finally back.
And that's when she felt it.
"Starclan-!" She managed to yelp as she fell to the hard, black, foul-smelling Thunderpath. A sudden, unbearable pain seemed to tear her in two. She was on the ground, shaking, convulsing as ripples of sharp pain rendered her immobile. Her tears were of pain now, not relief. What was happening?
She didn't have time to find out.
For a while she lay there, shuddering.

And then?
She was gone.

Though the swollen clouds wept fierce, unrelenting tears upon the barren and desolate forest, Splashwillow's determined pace did not falter- even as the brittle earth underpaw turned to a precariously slick mud. Why she had chosen to leave the safety of camp during a time like this, she did not know. All she did know was that her draining thoughts had made it impossible for her to stay. Her dreams had been muddled and strange, filled with the unfortunately familiar nightmares that had clung to the edge of her mind since Snowpaw had died all those moons ago. Perhaps it was the storm that was dragging up all of these terrible feelings. Feeling a wave of frigid water drench her as she slipped beneath a low-hanging frond, Splashwillow was only just able to detect a break in the trees ahead of her. Her belly drew into ragged knots as the muddied trails underpaw became increasingly familiar with every step she took.

The foul, acrid scent of the Thunderpath was still overwhelmingly strong despite the downpour of freezing rain that seemed to erase everything else. After watching her sisters blood seep across the strange stones, she had sworn to herself that she would never return to this place. This terrible place that wound its way through the forest like a dark river, stealing the lives of every creature that it happened upon. This place was evil. The trees thinned around Splashwillow as she finally broke away from the protective cover of the forest, causing her to wince as the slowly ceasing rain fell upon her completely exposed form. Taking a few more tentative steps onto the Thunderpath, the little Riverclanner titled her face skyward, hoping that the rapidly dwindling waters would wash away the faint voice that echoed bitterly within her mind, "Splashpaw? Are you still here?"

"Four kits... Raise them well. Make sure that... That... That they are loved. Silentstorm, Splashpaw, the stars... They call me."

Dropping her mouth open and letting out a ragged sigh, Splashwillow's mouth was flooded with the achingly familiar scent of blood and fear. Heavy lids snapping open, the calico Warrior's bleary gaze rapidly darted around the seemingly empty Thunderpath, her heart thudding wildly within her chest. Had she finally gone mad? Was this just a cruel joke being played upon her? However, after several long moments of frantic searching, her gaze fell upon a rain-drenched shape. Sprawled out just a few tail-lengths away from Splashwillow, the fur of the young cat was so sodden that it nearly appeared completely black. Staggering towards the limp cat, the bleak amber gaze that stared back at her stilled her heart completely.

Splashwillow could still recall the cries of Sparkwillow as Willowkit was first born, so small and meager among the unforgiving territory which she had been born in. The helplessness that had plagued her as she watched her sister slip away claimed her once more, filling her veins with ice and stealing the breath from her lungs. She had promised to look after her sister's kits, but she had failed once more. Stifling the keening wail that was bubbling in her throat, Splashwillow protectively crouched over Willowheart, desperate to protect the young she-cat and her kits from the harsh elements.

Ryeheart couldn't stop thinking.

Thinking about everything that had happened in the last few seasons, thinking about his family; those that were dead and gone and those that still lived, but were so far away they might as well be dead.  Thinking about his mistakes, how he could've chosen so much better back then, so that now might not be so miserable.  Thinking about his victories, the small ones that he could only feel inside, and the big ones that stained his paws with blood forever.  Thinking about life...his life.

When all hope had seemed lost though, a light had managed to pierce through the veil of mourning that had clouded his soul, and sometimes he began to feel his old self begin to bubble back up to the surface for all to see.  That kind-hearted black and white she-cat with the beautiful amber eyes had enlightened him when he felt he could never feel again, and, despite his guilt, he couldn't help but feel happy.  At first it was just them, but now, little lives were close to joining them as a family, one that he could keep and hold close and cherish like he wasn't able to before.  One that wasn't stained by the sins of their parents...one that was safe.

But fate always likes to strike in the cruelest ways.

That night, despite the pouring rain of approaching new-leaf, Ryeheart had awoken to see the space beside him in his nest where Willowheart usually slept empty, and after checking the nursery to see if she had moved in there for the night, decided to follow her scent that seemed to lead out of camp.  He could admit, he had been a bit protective of his mate after she had told him she was expecting his kits, but if she had known what he had gone through before, could she really blame him?  That was it though, she didn't know, and Ryeheart could only guess that she was beginning to feel frustrated with his efforts.  The trail was fading fast in the wetness, but he managed to keep following it by means of distant whiffs, and began to grow more and more concerned by the minute.  Where was she going at a time like this, in this horrible weather?  She could catch cold - or even whitecough - or slip in the mud and sprain a paw, or....  His worries continued, until he reached a break in the trees, and realized that she was heading towards the Thunderpath.  Picking up his pace, he padded forward a few more paces before he spotted her.  Or rather, them.

"Get away from my mate!"  His face contorted in a fearsome snarl, Ryeheart dashed forward and pushed against the she-cat's flank to try and and lift her off of Willowheart's limp form.  His eyes widening in alarm, he sniffed the queen's fur, before meeting the RiverClan cat's gaze with a confused and scared hiss.  "Wh...what's wrong with her?  What did you do to her?!"

Amongst the rain, hungry and scared mews were drowned out by the pouring rain. Every time the small kit tried to speak, her mouth was flooded with dirty-tasting water and her nose filled with stench of the black ground. Kicking around desperately, kicking her siblings, her mother, the ground, the air, the kit tried to release herself from the mass, lunging desperately for fresh air that never seemed to be coming.

Hidden in the shape of her mother's form, a tortoiseshell kit squeaked with fear when one of her sibling's limbs hit against her side with a dull thump. The world was a dark shower of unyielding streams, forcibly weighing down the short clumps of brown and black fur scattered around her tiny newborn body. The color of her pelt swirled together in the foul rain, staining the pads of her paws grey with soot. A wretched, pungent smell assaulted her senses, the newborn kit barely able to detect the fading scent of her mother and milk. A pitiful meow escaped her maw, her heart beating rapidly with fear as she wriggled helplessly next to her siblings.

The soft mewling of the kits became more obvious, their frantic and disorganized squirming becoming prevalent to Splashwillow as their tiny hindpaws peddled against the exposed fur of her belly. Pulling her muzzle away from Willowheart's drenched nape fur, the calico's quiet noises of grief faltered as she felt several of the kits continue to struggle beneath her. Whenever she had first approached the Thunderpath and discovered Willowheart's body, she had simply assumed that the litter had died alongside their mother- albeit she hadn't been able to figure out if they had died during the initial birth or due to exposure. Blinking rapidly to clear her eyes in hopes of adjusting her vision to the suffocating darkness created by the clouds, Splashwillow's ears fell flat against her skull as she struggled to see what laid beneath her. Stained with the filthy water that pooled upon the hard surface of the Thunderpath, it was difficult for her to catch a proper glimpse of the wriggling kits who still clung to the rapidly cooling form of their mother.

The bitter taste of anguish that had filled her mouth at the sight of Willowheart still remained, although now it grew softer as she gazed at the two squirming she-kits. The situation presented to her was so hauntingly familiar that for a heartbeat, it was now Sparkwillow splayed out in front of her, with a newborn Willowkit suckling at her swollen belly. With a careful forepaw, Splashwillow gently pried the wriggling kits away from Willowheart's belly and into the warmth of her own, slightly unsure of what to do. Dipping her head down and neatly freeing the kits from any remaining traces of the sac they had been born in before vigorously grooming them, she was completely unaware of Ryeheart's approach as she hurriedly warmed the kits the best she could. Ryeheart's frantic snarl caught her by surprise, causing her to protectively curl in on the kits that she was sheltering with a hiss of her own.

"Who are you..?"

Oddly, the red-furred tom before her bore a striking resemblance to Silentstorm. Blinking blearily in confusion, the calico Warrior struggled to break free from the overwhelming storm of memories and emotions that had befallen her. It was quite strange how similar this situation was- it was like StarClan was playing a cruel joke upon her by making her witness the past on an indefinite loop. Ryeheart's frantic words went in one ear and directly out the other, playing second fiddle to the faint hissing of Silentstorm that she had heard all those moons ago. The sharp scent of blood made her belly twist sharply, but it was difficult for her to tell whose blood it actually was. Was it Sparkwillow's or Willowheart's?

"Did she hurt you?"

Only Ryeheart's frantic nudging and hissing brought her back to the present. Gazing dropping sluggishly to Willowheart's stiff body, Splashwillow stared down at the younger Queen's body for several long heartbeats, struggling to piece everything back together. The longer she stared at her kin, the more difficult it became for her to try to piece together a coherent string of words. "I...I found her like this. There was nothing I could do for her." Splashwillow uttered softly, her throat tightening unbearably as she finally spoke to Ryeheart, "I-I'm so sorry..I should of known that this might of happened after witnessing Sparkwillow give birth to her- I should of said something to Silentstorm." The words that bubbled from her lips didn't seem to make very much sense in her own ears, but Splashwillow paid little attention to that as she curled in more tightly upon the kits beneath her.

She mewed for her mother. She didn’t understand what had just happened to her mother and why she was not trying to feed them. Cloudkit,Dazed, couldn’t help think that why isn’t mother moving
,what’s she just laying in the dirt for, is she gone or is she sleeping? When she saw sparkwillow standing there blood in mouth she got afraid that this had happens to her mother but her mother hadn’t made it...

(I had a whole darn post and it disappeared ;;

As soon as the tortoiseshell she-cat noticed that her granddaughter, Willowheart, wasn't curled up safely in her nest, Littlestar was off frantically searching the slushy marsh. She couldn't understand what had come over her granddaughter to wander out into the freezing rain when she knew she was expecting kits. Especially when she was obviously so close to kitting. She had lost so much family these past few moons, and she didn't think she could deal if her granddaughter and her kits died too. She didn't know if she could recover from that pain.

Soon the sharp tang of blood filled her nostrils, and she froze. No. Immediately her heart began racing, and her paws desperately clawed at the slippery mud as she hauled herself towards the Thunderpath, a silent prayer ricocheting through her head. Please don't take them too. Please.

She arrived at the black foul-smelling path, but she barely even noticed the normal stench. The only smell she could scent was blood. An overpowering whiff of the red fluid pooled around Willowheart. She let a grief-stricken cry escape her jaws, but it was cut short when she noticed the RiverClan she-cat. She was speaking. She let out a furious hiss now, and was only a tail-length from barreling into her, when the cat's words stopped her in her tracks.

"I...I found her like this. There was nothing I could do for her."
"I-I'm so sorry..I should of known that this might of happened after witnessing Sparkwillow give birth to her- I should of said something to Silentstorm."

"What??" She yowled, gasping heavily for breath. "Why? How do you know m-my son?" She whispered, the life slowly draining from her. How was this happening? How was this her life? Why couldn't she just be happy for more than just one heartbeat? She finally looked, really looked, at the she-cat in front of her, and she was taken back to the day she had played with Ashpaw, then Ashkit, outside the nursery. The resemblance was almost impossible to miss, and she was stunned into silence, her blue gaze a mix of grief and confusion. "What is going on?" She murmured softly, almost to herself.

"I...I found her like this. There was nothing I could do for her."

No.  It took a long moment for the reality of what was happening to set it, and as it did Ryeheart's icy eyes grew wider and wider by the heartbeat, his pupils narrowing to tiny, disbelieving dots.  His mouth wasn't working, his tongue was completely dry despite the pouring rain; his paws trembled and his whole body was taken by a wave of numbness.  His gaze flicked back-and-forth between his mate's body, this strange RiverClan she-cat who was still saying words that he couldn't understand, and Littlestar, who had appeared at his side.  "No....no, no NO!"  He finally found his voice; a gut-wrenching cry that was all too familiar to him.  "S..she can't be dead...she CAN'T BE!"  His whole body shaking, he crouched down to shake his mate's black and white form, his eyes widening even more as she realized that she was beginning to grow cold.  "WILLOWHEART!  Willowheart, wake up!  Please...please...wake up!  I need you!"  The tears began to come, and Ryeheart let out a chocked sob as he finally sat back.  She was gone.  Oh StarClan, what have I done wrong?!  What did I do to deserve this?!  I helped you save the clans, and this is how you repay me?!  Shivering violently, the ginger tom's eyes suddenly blazed with fury, and he hissed; "G..Get off of her!"  Trying his best to curl himself around his mate, his pressed his nose into her wet fur, his tears only helping to soak it more.  I never should have done this...I should've known this would end in disaster...My life is cursed to the Dark Forest, and I doomed her as well!  I doomed both of them...  "I'm so sorry, Willow..."

Just whenever Splashwillow thought this day couldn't possibly get any worse, she was greeted with the sight of an equally grief stricken Littlestar.

Shrinking away from the small tortoiseshell, the normally glossy fur on Splashwillow's nape prickled warily, amber gaze gleaming sharply in the mute light of the stormy evening. Reluctantly, at Ryeheart's vehement pleading, she stiffly released Willowheart's awkwardly limp corpse. Feeling the squirming kittens kick and writhe awkwardly, the calico gently readjusted herself once more, her movements now much more hesitant under the scrutiny of Littlestar. Was it even a wise decisions to have come here at the beckoning of her nightmares? The pair of ShadowClanners could easily shove the blame unto her and turn her flesh into bloody ribbons as penance. "I-I didn't know Silentstorm was your son.." Splashwillow finally uttered, unsure of what to say.

The Leader of ShadowClan? Splashwillow wondered absently, I wonder how Ivystar will take to this. The way Littlestar gazed at her made her bones ache warily, stricken with the urge to flee. Tail tip twitching warily at the ShadowClanner's words, her gaze briefly darted to Ryeheart, who was now awkwardly cradling his mate's cold form. Her heart screamed at the thought of betraying the long-dead copulation between Silentstorm and Sparkwillow, resulting in her mouth going dry. Oh Sparkwillow. Forgive me. "Silentstorm and my sister, Sparkwillow, were mates. I don't really know how or when it happened, but I only found out at the end." She admitted quietly, eyes casting down to the stiff Queen at her paws, "Whenever Sparkwillow found out she was expecting his kits, she tried to come here to give birth but she died bearing his kits..." Willowkit, Boulderkit, Ashkit and Violetkit. The names were as familiar as any prayer.

"Even though we were of blood relation to Ivystar and Fishstar, they would of never been accepted in Riverclan, so Silentstorm took the kits to ShadowClan. We would visit Sparkwillow's grave together and he would update me about the kits.." Splashwillow murmured, a strange feeling of detachment overcoming her as she recalled memories that were often shunned.