shatter me like glass [rite of passage]

As night fell over the fields that spanned between ShadowClan and WindClan land, a lone warrior silently waited. The stars seemed to blink into existence one by one, as they had so long ago: then, they had sparked into being in a split second, a dazzling array of lights across the sky; almost enough to distract from the cost.

Tonight, though, they weren't quite so bright or quite so desperate. They were exactly as they were every other night, as they had been since they came into being--or back to the world, as she was told. It wasn't that Leopardsun didn't believe the stories, but it was hard to imagine when she had never seen them before that moment.

The silver light of the moon in the sky took the shape of a cat's claw, and she had taken it as a sign. Her moment to strike. But she had worked hard to learn the value of patience and planning, and so she watched and waited from the shadows.

If she could, she would have rather done this under a starless sky on a full moon night, but Gatherings had become a responsibility--and the stars, it seemed, were here to stay.

She would have rather been alone, too, but the presence of the silent warriors some distance away were a safety concern. She could understand that, even if she felt she didn't need it: she was no more important than any other cat, after all; and she would rather deal with it herself than go without and cause some reckless warrior to get themselves hurt or killed.

Her prey blended into the darkness just as well as she herself did, if not more so: shadow-black fur lost in the night, the only sign of its presence the way its golden eyes glinted in the light.

For this moment, at least, she had to stand on her own four paws. She would fly or fail on her own merits, and nothing else.

Taking flight- that wasn't a bad metaphor. That the fox had no feathers and was just as earthbound as she was didn't matter.

Though the stars were cold and distant, dazzling remnants of a war she'd rather forget, the chilling winds of the night were a refreshing reminder that she was still alive. Despite everything, she was still alive.

Not everyone was as lucky as she had been. She still caught herself looking back, trying to catch the gaze of Deerleap and Sootwhisker; searching for Vixenpaw in her sister's favorite spots. Waking up and thinking that she might want to ask Froststar for advice on something or other. Now she caught herself glancing toward the warriors behind her, searching for Snowfoot before she recalled what had happened.

As she returned focus to her target, she made her way close enough to see as its eyes closed and head lowered to the ground in a peaceful sleep. If fortune favored her tonight, this would be its last.

She waited some time to see if it would suddenly wake, eventually giving a silent signal to the warriors that she was about to strike, and she leapt forward. Though foxes were both powerful and tricky opponents, a sleeping one was as vulnerable as any other.

The warrior made sure to strike quickly, yanking its tail with her teeth to keep it from countering too quickly. She pinned it down as best she could, digging claws and teeth into its flesh, but mostly her goal was to wear it out without getting to injured--or letting it get too damaged.

For some time, she kept on top of it; and when it eventually shook her off she led it in circles before turning to incapacitate it with a forward rush.

Despite her experience, it got a few swipes and one good bite on her in the process; but at the end of it she once again had the fox still and on the ground. Holding its head in place, she gave one good slash to its throat.

Once it was mostly still, she let herself deliver a killing blow.

She wondered, for a moment, if she was supposed to feel different. She didn't. Not really. She felt accomplished, sure, but she still just felt like Leopardsun.

She was deputy of ShadowClan, skilled warrior in her own right, capable of taking out a fox on her own.

This should have been a proud moment. And it was, but not the way she would have liked: her mother and father and sister and aunt and mentor should have been here, celebrating with her; never mind that of them only Snowfoot might have had the chance to. The warriors watching over her were trusted Clanmates, sure, but that wasn't entirely the same.

But she couldn't dwell on loss forever. She had to stay strong, for ShadowClan's sake if not her own. That was why she had chosen the fox, instead of a hawk that might have better suited her: foxes were as clever as they were powerful, and they were protective of their own.

They had lost so much. Surely there was a bright future awaiting them, a beautiful dawn at the end of the darkest night, and she would fight to see it. She would fight for all of ShadowClan to see it.

Honeylight's words rang in her ears, from one of their conversations some time ago. ShadowClan will have its chance to just be, she recalled him saying. That they had to fight so desperately for brief moments of peace, she knew it would never truly be enough... But it had to be enough to fight for. We will. I'll make sure of it.

ShadowClan's deputy looked up at the stars, shining brilliantly so far away. It was easy for them to shine night after night, their battles fought and won; their prices already paid. "We'll see a brighter future, if it's within our power--and if it's not, we'll make it happen anyway."

Her words were spoken softly, between herself and those she was speaking to. Why was she speaking to them at all? They had never said a word to her, outside of that night that haunted her dreams. Every cat around her praised them, and placed every decision ever made up to their will.

Maybe that was why. Really, who cared about StarClan's will? Where was StarClan during the flood, or when they were just as trapped as anyone during the Dark Forest's reign?

"We'll fight to see it, if we have to. I swear to all that is sacred, on the memory of everyone that I have ever loved--I will fight to see it. We will know peace. Whether it's your will or not!"

The words, whispered to the winds and heard only by herself, carried the power and the cadence of an oath. A vow that she would keep as long as she was able.

It may not last forever, but ShadowClan will have its chance to just be... And so will I, someday.

"Our lives are in our own paws, not yours; whatever anyone else says. Our choices are our own, and you certainly didn't guide my paws here. I did."

The faint sting of her own minor injuries reminded her that she had been standing over the fox's body for some time during her one-sided conversation, and with a deep breath she began the task of carrying her prize back to ShadowClan's camp.

the gods can judge me when i'm dead || code (c) kieer