The air was crisp with frost, the sky white, and sun hiding behind a vast expanse of cloud. Leaftwirl didn't say her goodbyes, nor did she stop to collect her nest or a piece of prey. SkyClan had been her home, and tears dripped from her temples at the prospect of it becoming just another location. The lake she spent her apprenticeship at was a place, and so was the moonstone where her heart was broken. What memories would her camp have? The death of Tigerleaf? The execution of Tinystar? Or perhaps the leaves that fell on a windy day, the beautiful snow that coated the ground in leafbare. It was all perspective, she told herself. However it saddened her that she didn't possess that strength. Each tragedy seemed to throw her into the abyss, and she didn't have the ability to climb out. Her tall legs meant nothing in the world of metaphors and tricks. Her lean frame and long fur were only shapes. They only colored the memories she held of all the places in the forest. What really made a difference was the feeling, the swell in her heart as she laughed. The sting of tears on her cheeks when she cried. Leaftwirl was emotional, dumb, and fluttery. She had left her own daughter behind in a camp that could no longer make her happy. What a foxheart she was.
The undergrowth crunched under her paws as the warrior's steps greatened in strength. She stomped over the trails once walked by a SkyClanner. Now she had given up her name. No one knew, not even Sunflower. Only Basilpaw carried her secret, although it may not stay a secret for long. Leaftwirl didn't care what they thought of her, she'd shut the thoughts out. Her world was laughs and crowds and friends, and pleasing those she loved had been her sole purpose. But it now fluttered in the wind as the branches did. Her sense of self had been trampled, but her physical body was moving, changing. A shift in scenery may shift her mind. Basilpaw would grow up in a loving clan, one who had cared for Leaftwirl during her younger moons. But Basilpaw's life would be better than Leaftwirl's. Her mother wouldn't die in a flood, her ancestors wouldn't slander her name. Leaftwirl asked for her happiness, and how dare life not give it to her? Was the warrior's life tragic? Or were the happy cats just lucky?
Never had she done so much thinking. Leaftwirl ducked under a pine and thought of Amberdawn, and their adventures so many moons ago. Things had been simple then. She wished to be free, to not be burdened with ideals of the past, and what could have gone better. Leaftwirl was a friendly cat, a kind cat, but she didn't hold the capacity to be a strong cat. She was sensitive, weak, nothing like what Wolffang had wanted her to be. The she-cat sighed and caught sight of the vast wall of wood that stretched across the territory, marking the border between forest and twolegplace. In this case it was metaphorical. This was a border of adversity and giving up. No. No?
Leaftwirl dug her claws into the ground and remembered Peaches, and meeting the kittypet here. That cat had been happy. Her fur was bright and her eyes shined like the sun. Was it circumstances that made laughter present? Or was it a mindset? It was difficult to admit Leaftwirl was not capable of such a thing. She had given up, but she hadn't failed. It was a step towards a better life, pulling back the veil to acknowledge her need to feel happy. If this was what it took, then was it so wrong? Was it so wrong to leave behind the clan that raised her, to go and eat hard food in a twoleg nest? The warrior code would say so, and yet Leaftwirl only followed the code because it had made space for the whimsy she so desired. What a fool she was, taking advantage of all around her. Yet what made her any different then any other cat? Wasn't that the goal of life? To live and to love and be happy? Wasn't that why the clans existed? To make a space for contentment? Leaftwirl leapt onto the fence, staring at the neatly lined red stone dens on the other side. Such a stark contrast, yet she remained in the gray.
As a cat who never wanted to hurt, she refused to leave her box in the pursuit of happiness. She had fallen behind, and was never taught to rage against life itself for that contentment she so desired. Leaftwirl was polite, yet reached out in the most subtle of ways. She had opened Sunflower's heart and stored his love in hers. She had cried tears for her mother, wept over her brother. She had brought life into the world, and she had watched life be taken away. Each action was made with careful paws, a barely-there being, just trying to fit into a box and yet to live as gloriously as life allowed.
Leaftwirl smiled now and stared into the horizon, knowing she'd never satisfy those she wished to. It was freeing, however bittersweet. Tears filled the crevices of her grin, but still she smiled. The warrior giggled and leapt into the other side, leaving the forest, trekking into a new life. The real thing.
