Dawnfeather lay awake at night, watching the stars move slowly across the night sky, pinpricks of light performing an intricate dance against the black backdrop of the shadows behind the stars. She felt a heaviness in her chest, a sort of clinging keening sadness that sucked the vitality out of life. It had been easier to ignore, when she’d freshly returned and found Beetle here- but lately… it was worry, some of it, based on fact and truth, but it was also loneliness. Every day she woke up expecting to find Beechaunt and Prima and Muddy and Smokema there. Every day she woke up expecting to feel Olive and Dandelion’s soft fur against hers. Every day she woke up in a world that- that just wasn’t there anymore. She should be happy that she was home- and she was- but sometimes- sometimes it didn’t feel like enough.
With a sigh, the golden she-cat rose silently to her paws, fumbling her way to the center of the clearing. Dandelionflight would’ve loved to watch the moon and stars silhouetted in such splendor. She- Dawnfeather hadn’t even connected with her best friend’s kit, Drizzlepaw. And now they were both gone, taken by Twolegs. Oliverain- tall and strong and a bulwark of honest and dependability- except that she needed a friend as much as any of them, and Dawnfeather hadn’t been that friend to her. She had worked herself to death, denying herself the food she needed, dying alone, without anyone noticing her starvation until it was too late. She could’ve stopped it- she could’ve stopped it all!
If Dawnfeather had been there for Dandelionflight and Drizzlepaw, she could’ve helped them escape the Twolegs. If she had been there for Oliverain, she could’ve forced her friend to eat, could’ve kept her alive. If she’d been there with Beechaunt as she walked along the river- that RiverClan cat would still be alive, and Beechaunt and Bloodstrike would be still in SkyClan.
But worse than that- far worse-
If she’d been there for Smokema. She could’ve stopped him. She should’ve stopped him. She was the only one in the whole forest who could’ve stopped him- and- and she wasn’t there when she needed to be.
She should’ve been there for Muddy and Prima when they decided to strike out into Twolegplace. She should’ve been with them.
She should’ve been there for Holly and Wasp, leading them home with confidence and a light heart. She should’ve been there for- for- that grey tabby, one of Beechaunt’s first litter, who with her sister was forced to leave SkyClan because of the hate- she could’ve been there. Could’ve made SkyClan a home, could’ve made a difference, even so long ago.
And- if she’d been braver. If she’d been braver, who knew what, and who, could’ve been saved? With Blossomstep alive, would Wolfstar still lead SkyClan? With- oh- what was her name, the brown tabby- alive, and Wrenspring, and Foxfire, SkyClan would’ve been more than it was now. All because she was too timid to try.
It never hurt to try. But it hurt, horribly, to not.
Engrossed in her own thoughts, Dawnfeather hardly noticed another set of pawsteps.
