Murkypaw's Moonstone Journey

Day-in, night-out, she pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion. To the point where her paws threatened the inability to even carry herself back to camp, to the point that the moves that she had been taught became nothing more than muscle memory. The slightest trigger would put her in a rhythm of practiced motions, all crafted in the attempt to recreate what had been shown to her in training. Dedication had always been a virtue that was as deeply ingrained in her as her own blood, but it had also offered her a distraction. A respite from the nightmares that haunted her every night, that made it impossible to sleep and stay in the apprentice's den for too long.

She had awaited outside of the apprentice's den, standing guard, when she spotted Sandyshell move to just outside the camp walls with the bundle of herbs. The news that it was her time to take her moonstone journey and nearly finish her apprenticeship within her new clan was bitter-sweet. On one paw, she was proud for the effort to be paying off, for it to be recognized. Being beneath the leader's tutelage when she had so many other apprentices to tend to, much less an entire clan, made it hard for her to truly stand out as she had wished to.

On the other paw...

Murkypaw took all of the herbs offered, her face somehow staying still despite the bitterness that threatened to make every other apprentice gag. It would be her second time going to the moonstone, a rarity for those who only ever walked the life of a warrior. The question that prompted her thoughts was left without a response for some time as the scarred apprentice contemplated it. Truthfully, she did. Her heart was torn. Desperately... desperately, she pled with her ancestors that there would be one that she would get to see again during that dream. That the agony that turned in her soul would be finally put to rest and that she could move on, and live a life beyond him. But at the same time... she didn't want to let him go.

Looking at her paws, the flash of emotion became true and raw for the medicine cat. "I am scared for who I may face," she admitted. "But ready to be able to fully dedicate myself to Riverclan." Deep down, the tears already threatened to spill. But she was a seasoned warrior. She had seen battle, had faced hardships. Had seen the ilk tainting the waters, and been at the helm of helping her clanmates learn to hunt the prey that stalked on land. She could survive a discussion with those that had passed onto the stars.

To what was no doubt significant relief of the medicine cat, those words were much needed. Had she not attempted to root herself to the floor of the sandy forest that was beneath her, Murkypaw would have been trembling. Trembling so fiercely that it would have made it almost impossible to stand, impossible to seem as if she was ready. But that was far from how she appeared, even if deep down, the splintered fragments of her being hissed otherwise. Still, knowing that the medicine cat herself, the one who should have been friends with the stars above was scared? It eased that inner turmoil. In a rare gesture, the white-flecked tortoiseshell leaned enough so her tail could brush in gratitude across Sandyshell's shoulder. She took an extra step away immediately after, almost recoiling from the touch that she herself had initiated. It was just simply odd for her to give any semblance of physical gestures, so much so that... while she craved to be able to embrace the smaller molly entirely, the very idea made her skin prickle as if it instead would wound her.

Murkypaw waited patiently for the medicine cat to be ready, forcing the growing sorrows of her mind to once more ebb into the silent static she'd found comfort in. "I will follow where you lead," she commented once it seemed that Sandyshell was ready. It was punctuated by a solid nod, but her gaze slid away as if she was staring at something distant. In truth, she was. Attempting to see into the depths of Mothermouth to the moonstone, to try and get a glimpse as to just who the stars had fated for her.

Murkypaw had simply blinked in response to the medicine cat's apology. There was no need for it, but there were also no words of comfort that were able to be forced out her lips. She had a hard time speaking in general, and forcing herself to say any words? It just resulted in the bile biting at the back of her throat. So the apprentice said nothing, allowing the gesture to happen in its strange way, before they both decided to continue on. Such an awkward moment between the two cats... but that was just how things had always been when Murkypaw attempted to reach out. Even when she weaved through the forest as Murkyripple, a name that now felt so foreign it belonged to a different cat, any semblance of connection always seemed lost on her. It was simply... not who she was. Not where she belonged. Truthfully, she still was just fine with that. It meant serving her Clan, more than anything else.

Time skip...

Having followed dutifully behind Sandyshell for the entire journey, it was hard not to ignore the feeling rumbling deep in her chest. It was certainly an emotion, but what one, she couldn't quite place. She had moved with the shadow-like silence the entire way, only ever allowing a distant tuft of her fur to brush against the medicine cat in confirmation that she was there. Every splinter she thought had mended itself together seemed to begin to make its unhealed edges known, prickling her insides deeper and deeper the closer they had gotten to Mothermouth. All that she could think about was who she would encounter. Whether or not she wanted to encounter him. The one who had spurred all of this. Who had caused such a tumultuous shift in her emotional state, who had been the one to prompt her to leave Thunderclan behind.

This was all that stood between her and her new life.

Truthfully, when phrasing it in the literal sense of all that was between now and then was touching her nose to a rock, it was a rather trivial problem. One she would have easily scoffed at, simply flicking her whiskers and continuing on. But this time... This time, it was different. Memories of her first moonstone came through her senses, the interaction with a Windclan warrior seeming so distant. Those true feelings and memories were locked behind a murky ilk that threatened to never let her past. A different time in her life, one that she seemed to never wish to relive. It was a fact she had accepted, even as the mental claws of her mind scraped against it in gratitude. Gratitude that it had once been, but that it would be no more.

Sandyshell's deep breath was echoed by Murkypaw. Almost silent, but nevertheless, the tension released of her own. Her flaming, orange gaze seemed to harden into a weapon of its own as she forced her nerves silent, found comfort in the misted shadows of her mind that snuffed every emotion that she felt. Let that numbness creep into her body to silence the world, how it threatened her with reminders, with feelings. She was here to be strong. She was here to be Murkypaw of Riverclan. Giving a singular nod towards the medicine cat, she allowed her to lead the way before following in. The path had worn to countless paws, so making the way down was of no issue to her. After all, she had spent so long in darkness, her eyes adjusted extremely quickly to the shift of light.

Then there was the moonstone.

Its splendor was still not entirely lost on the apprentice. While she made no obvious shift in her features as she took in its beauty, the hardly-glowing ember that stayed deep inside of her seemed to flicker in response to its existence. Acknowledgement. Shadow recognizing light, just as that light seemed to recognize the shadow that still loomed inside of her. Covered her entire being, steeled her into the night-blessed sentry that she had always been. Except now... she had changed. While the night-time still welcomed her as if nothing had happened, it was the river now, too, that called to her. Had given her its blessing to find a new path, to change her swiftness to be that of the waters. That was the change she approached the stone with.

Graceful, silent movements replaced those that were once silent and promised death. It was a fight, but she willed herself to promise life instead. After all, approaching the realm that already held their dead with death itself would simply be a bad omen. Or... would it have been fitting? To bring the death-bringer to the stars, and leave it behind in those starry plains?

It didn't matter. Not as she gave Sandyshell one last look. "We will be okay." She commented. Having spent the entire journey beside the medicine cat, she had attuned herself to the point that the pale feline's anxieties were almost palatable. Still, Murkypaw did not judge-she understood. More than understood, in fact. Tucking them away behind another layer of mental shadow, she turned herself to the stone. Settling down on silent paws, Murkypaw allowed herself to get fully comfortable before leaning forwards to press her nose to the cold slate. It didn't bite as harshly as she had remembered in her youth, the numbness that had already settled over her seeming to grow more potent as it lulled her into that sweet, sweet slumber.

He'd waited. He'd waited a long time.

The fields of StarClan were beautiful, peaceful, endless. Near-infinite waves of long grass stretched into a horizon, dotted with any flowers he could hope to find. Wind would stir his whiskers. He could run forever without tiring. Above him stretched the sky... and yet he knew that below him was the sky. The flowers were nice, but they were simply his imagination. As idyllic as everything was, there was always something in the back of his mind that felt dissatisfied. He could never quite name it. Perhaps it was the fact that his paws would never solidly fall on real, loamy soil again. Perhaps it was the fact that the flowers never withered.

Or perhaps it was the fact that the breath in his lungs never mirrored the breeze in his fur.

Flutterpetal was content, in StarClan. But deep within the contentment roiled an undercurrent of wishing, of loss, of sorrow. Of missing what he had once had. Of missing those who were uncountable lengths below his paws and the seemingly-solid plains. And there was one still living that he missed more than anyone else, despite their limited encounters.

When he'd heard the news that she would be coming again--a second Moonstone? practically unheard of, but he wouldn't complain--it had brought a sparkle back into his eyes. Of course he loved spending time with Adderdawn, and Daisybreeze, and all the cats around him. But the thing about being dead was that there was always something missing, something empty. To have that filled, to have that knowledge of what was transpiring below, even for just a few moments... it was what he wanted more than anything. And so it was with the first sense of true anticipation he'd experienced for moons and moons that he prepared.

When Murkyripple... no, when Murkypaw opened her eyes, she would see him there. Almost the same as in life: a small black-pelted tom with impossibly soft fur, bright green eyes the color of newleaf peering out of a gentle face. A smile with tiny white fangs sitting upon his mouth. The only thing different was hardly noticeable until it was seen, and then it could not be unseen. Glowing stars peeked through his midnight fur, winking in the way that Silverpelt always had, moving as he moved, shifting as he shifted. They were a part of him now. A freshly-woven crown of lavender blossoms waited at his feet, just as imperfect as the one he'd made back at Fourtrees. For though this was heaven, he was still his mortal self, and the small mistakes in the weaving were born of his character and his own failings. That was something that the stars could never cleanse him of.

She would see him there. And he would see her. And in that moment, Flutterpetal would perk his ears up, smile even wider, and say one simple word.

"Hi."

Memory of her first moonstone had guided her into that sleep. Of not being welcomed immediately by the stars, instead having to wait and almost force herself to have entry into the lands of her ancestors. It had been hard not to feel a sense of roiling fear that it would happen again. That instead of being greeted by anyone, she would be met with nothingness. Locked out of the heavens by some decree that, because she had already had her journey as an apprentice once, they would not welcome her again.

It was the final hallmark of any warrior's training. As the ancestors watched over the prospective soldier, they would assess them. Learn about them and their traits just as the apprentice was learning about the rules of the forest, about their code. Decipher just what it was that motivated them-but also what hindered them. What flaw it was that would be their downfall as a warrior, and find an ancestor who had either made a similar mistake, or had overcome it. One who could share wisdom and pass on knowledge that only those of the Stars would know to allow them to be successful. Or perhaps it was also to provide encouragement, to be able to move beyond a mistake that had otherwise held them back.

What was it that held her back?

She had fought against that for moons. Buried it deep, hiding it behind the jagged edges of her shattered heart that had never quite fully healed. Concealed it behind the feral beast that had been deeply wounded, being the one thing that beast could protect. Could nurture and cling to, for what had been ripped away had left that wound there. It was buried beneath the shadows of who she was, who she always would be, even as she had successfully trained to become one with the river. Waters now ran above the surface, while the deep shadows still lurked within. But as she was now here... there was no fighting it. She had to let it peer through.

Fear was the first thing she felt as she had realized she had successfully made it to the land of her ancestors. Immediately, the warrior-apprentice swallowed it down. Still, hesitance prevented her from immediately opening her eyes. Instead, her other senses went into overdrive. The feline was entirely unsure if she could handle seeing him... or if she could handle him not being there. But the unfortunate part about being in the stars was that there truly was no scent. Only a gentle sound of a breeze, one that mimicked a hybrid of all of the forest's lands. That was all she could detect, with no true knowledge as to who it was that the Stars had deemed worthy-or entirely unlucky-of meeting with her.

Even as she didn't want to open her eyes, though, she would have to at some point. It would be an entirely unproductive and even offensive meeting to not to such out of such a kittish fear. What felt like years but had truly only ever been a few heartbeats before the veil of her abyss-kissed pelt would lift, the striking eyes of deep embers finally having to settle on what was in front of her.

Of who was in front of her.

Emotions immediately surged like a tsunami underneath her pelt. That inner creature that had recoiled in fear and pain now lept forward, fresh pain and excitement and a whole myriad of other emotions causing confliction. They never quite made it fully to the surface, the layers upon layers that the tortoiseshell had forced upon herself to stifle showing anything of such working. Even as one after the other felt as if it was re-shattered. All that had made it to the surface was a small flicker-her gaze once more seeming to flicker from the dead embers it had been for moons. For moons. But as flame held the star-speckled onyx of his pelt, as she caught the flickers that now illuminated him instead of the petals of the forest, as she saw the crown that now rested at his paws...

"Hi."

There was no denying it any longer. This was him. Starclan was not playing some heinous, cruel joke on her, ready to rip the visage of Flutterpetal away at any moment in order to replace him with the true cat she was to meet. Nor was it some infiltration of the Dark Forest, here to utterly destroy her mind before drawing them right into their clutches. She should have laughed at that idea, but the fact of the matter was more firm than the fact she was now a Riverclan cat. The meaning that the black-pelted tom held to her rivaled that of her brother, Thrushnose. The only cat that she had to tell her leader, to her face, that she could never harm. That she could not faithfully uphold the code in front of. Flutterpetal... he was the same.

Shock finally moved away from her face, her eyes that had been widened finally moved beyond that emotion and to elation. Even as tight as the grip on her emotions that she had was, tears still slipped through. A gentle sob choked out as her paws finally willed themselves to move, closing the gap between the two. Living and dead, Riverclan and Windclan. Dark and light.

Words failed her. Words failed her in so many ways. They always had. She had never been one to talk, to use language to convey how she felt. What she thought. What she believed. But her gestures did, her actions proved it. The utter power that the tortoiseshell had radiated for so long had seemed to fizzle away with that singular greeting, the vulnerability she felt shining through. With every step, another layer of her guard was shattered. Not even let down... no. It was entirely shattered away, the deepest parts of her soul needing to come through. To see him. To prove that he was there... to find that closure. Did she truly even want closure? No, she wanted him in her conscious memory in some way, some form. He would stay there. That was for sure. But she revealed more and more of herself to him, utterly bearing her truest self to him.

She practically barreled into the tom, careful to avoid the crown he had created as if it was the most prized object in the forest. To her, it may as well have been. Her head pressed itself firmly into the ethereal fluff around his neck, the tears that now freely flowed simply rolling off the unearthly soft tufts. "I miss you." She stated. There were so many things she wanted to say. So many things that she felt, but to attempt to articulate it? She didn't know where to begin.

Alarm immediately seized her chest. There were times that the time they spent with their ancestors was only the shortest of blips in time, and that terror took full hold of the molly as the realization struck her. Murkypaw had spent so long thinking on what just she would tell him when they met again. Again, because the warrior-apprentice had refused to believe they would never see each other one more time. But as she was here, all of that planning fleeted in the face of that panic. She had so much she needed to say to him, if he were to immediately be ripped away-

"Iloveyou."

The words came out in a speedy whisper. But she had to tell him. Had to have said it, at least once, before he was ripped away again. Before she would have to live without him, without the joy of his face. It was absolutely insane, silly, so many other words to have done such a thing. To have found such a deep level of affinity for a cat she had sworn to be her enemy, to feel it so profoundly that she couldn't ignore it. Yet... here she was. The stars had punished her for that affection with his death. It would only help to heal the smallest part of her soul for him to know. Her breathing was off-rhythm and rapid, shaked and broken by the choked sobs she tried to stop. Tried to compose herself, but tumbled over her steps. All she could think, all she could feel, she had just said.

Quietly, she repeated it again. "I love you." It felt more real to repeat it. Even as shame burned at her chest... "I had to tell you. Before Starclan takes you away again." Even quieter, those words were whispered. An explanation. While she had kept her head buried deeply in his fur, she finally made a move away, tentatively looking at him. To see what his reaction was to it all. She hoped and prayed she had not just made a fatal error in showing how she felt. But... no, he would never do that. Never. Not as he had met her in the stars with a crown of lavender. Right?

At first, she stood frozen. Flutterpetal kept smiling, simply because he was so glad to see her... but after a moment or so, he began to doubt himself. What if she blamed him for dying? What if she didn't want to see him again? What if coming to speak with her had been a mistake? Those blazing orange eyes began to tear up, seemingly confirming his worst fears. The tom opened his mouth to apologize--but he was stopped by Murkypaw barreling into him, the physical-touch-avoidant she-cat burying herself in his dark fur. It caught him by surprise. But a few seconds later, he managed to react. His soft tail curled around her form, and he rested his head on her shoulder. Something tightened inside him. He had wanted to be the brave one, this time. He'd wanted to be strong. But finally having her here...

Flutterpetal felt his eyes beginning to sting. It was stupid, he knew. Ghosts weren't supposed to cry. He should be the one comforting her. She needed it far more; she always had. He was supposed to be there for her. But as they shared the embrace, as he felt her physicality--far more real, far more alive than his, despite how real the moment felt--he couldn't help but dampen her shoulder slightly.

He forgot that the point of a Moonstone visit was to speak, to offer advice. Words failed him. He just wanted to sit here forever, feeling her curled up as close to him as she could get. Though he knew it was just an illusion, he felt his heart stutter-stepping inside his chest. He'd often hugged Adderdawn, but... this was different. He wasn't quite sure why. Whyever it was, this she-cat he'd only met three times--ThunderClan, ShadowClan, RiverClan--meant so much to him. So much that as he lay dying, bleeding out, one of his frantic thoughts reached out to her.

But it seemed he didn't have to speak. Murkypaw had beaten him to it. Even if the words she spoke, choked out past tears that seemed to have finally broken past a wall built up for moons, caused his own breaths to sound strange. "I've missed you, too," he whispered. The words seemed inadequate to explain how empty he felt wandering the moors, to describe the hollow grief that haunted him like a second shadow every moment he was aware of himself up beyond the stars and her down below suffering alone. Inadequate to describe the sorrow, the loss. And yet, even as her tears rolled down his fur, he felt that she understood. She would know what he meant. Somehow, she always had, hadn't she?

Yet those words, as true as they were, were nothing compared to the next ones that she spoke--hushed, hurried, as if they were illicit.

"Iloveyou."

Warmth--a warmth that he no longer owned, being dead--rose in his pelt, all the way up to his face. What was it about Murkypaw, that she had always managed to make him feel so? Always managed to coax a blush from fur so dark it was imperceptible? Obviously she meant the bond that they shared, the way they'd instantly befriended and understood each other. That was what the word "love" referred to. He wouldn't have known what it meant otherwise, having never known whether the trembling of his heart meant romance or another form of bond. He didn't know, still, even now. And he was unsure whether he would. But what he did know was that the words, as quickly and frantically as she spoke them, were true. And that he loved her, too.

Finally Murkypaw stepped back, and Flutterpetal found that he missed the immediate warmth of her fur meshing with his. But as he saw her eyes, the sudden return of the anxiety and uncertainty and the wish to put up a wall and hide from the emotions, he found the courage to untie his tongue. "Murkypaw," he said. His eyes were the green of fresh leaves in spring, and his voice was soft. Once again, he smiled. "I love you, too. There's no need to worry. They can never take me away... not forever."

Gently the WindClan tom bent down in a gesture mirroring that of moons ago, taking the imperfect crown of lavender carefully in his teeth. Then--softly, but surely--he placed it once more on her head. It suited her. Even more than before. Despite her best efforts to hide from the vulnerability that had granted her the bond they shared, it had been growing deep inside her this whole time. She had done her best to keep it inside and not allow any others to see it. But perhaps unbeknownst to her, her kindness and empathy had been growing, just as a flower when given water and sunlight. The tiny blossoms of lavender wreathed her sable-furred face. It was hers. It had always been hers.

"I'm sorry I had to leave." Flutterpetal refrained from giving too much detail, from saying things that would only hurt--things like I almost ran away with you or I wanted to show you the flower field or I thought of you as I died. Those secrets would stay buried just as his body lay deep beneath the moors. However, he did feel that he owed her an explanation. "It was never my intention. And yet, just like death came for so many of my friends and family, eventually it came for me and my brother. Someday it will come for you, too, and there will be no way of stopping it. But that time is not yet." His eyes were locked on his, opposites of ember orange and new-grass green somehow not clashing. "You have so much left for you."

His smile had previously borne sadness. Now, as he spoke, it grew warmer. "I know that you've been sad, and I apologize for causing that. But I hope, now that we've seen each other again, I can clear some things up." With one step forward, he closed the gap between them, gently touching her nose to his. It was a blessing--a benediction. "There is happiness for you," he whispered. "Out there. You can find it... I know you can. It's only waiting for you. You're strong, and brave, and beautiful, Murkypaw. There's nothing that you can't handle. Even this." Probably he should have stopped and let her speak, but now that he was finally able to talk to her, now that he saw her before him and saw the pain that had torn her open every night, he needed to say it. He took a single step back, but his words continued. "You are allowed to feel sad. You are allowed to grieve. But... please, don't let it consume you. Leaf-bare comes every year, but there will always be a new-leaf. The sun sets every night only to rise again the next morning. Everything comes in seasons. As you have had your season of sorrow, so too will you know joy again." He couldn't prophesy, that he knew of. But as he spoke the words, Flutterpetal felt that they were true. Almost as true as the word "love."

"I have missed you, and I do love you," Flutterpetal repeated softly. "But none of that should stop you from living. Live while you can. I won't ask you to forget about me, and... I can never forget about you. But I'll have to remain here, and I ask that you live a long life before coming to stay with me permanently." For a moment his eyes grew distant, as he looked out over the starry moors that were only a copy of their counterpart. He missed WindClan. He missed the beat of his heart in his chest, and the whispers of the wind singing to him. "There are so many good things in this world," he said. "There are friends you can make, bonds you can share, and seasons to appreciate. You have so much left for you. Don't make the mistake of thinking that none of it matters. Okay?" As he looked at her, his smile was not only wistful, but hopeful. Hopeful that Murkypaw could see what he meant. Hopeful that when she left the Moonstone, she would walk on to her future... and that she wouldn't look back.

I missed you too.

Stars, she had needed to hear that. To every single star that speckled of Silverpelt in the nights, that had kept her in some sort of solace and comfort that came from a source beyond the boundaries of her normal mortal, waking realm... their presence could never give her the comfort that single set of words did. To know that she had some place in the onyx-furred tom's life that meant something similar to how he had fit within hers. The knowledge that all of her care was not entirely for naught, that it was reciprocated even a fraction of the way. It allowed that snarling, hissing creature deep down to be soothed as if caressed by the most gentle of touches.

It was once they had both parted even the smallest of pawsteps away that two realizations struck her, piercing like one of the lightning bolts that had arced in Fourtrees to strike a cat that had acted outside of the peace to be kept on those moons. First, and much more immediately recognized, was the fact that she was not ready to part ways from the embrace they had shared. That her paws had instantly itched to once more carry her forward, to refuse to let go of Flutterpetal. Her entire frame had started to move, heartbeats later reason finally kicking in to keep her rooted to the place she currently stood. The multicolored ears that usually stood tall in full sentry-mode remained pinned against her head, every wall that had stood guard to maintain that nightly empress visage gone. Her grief shone stronger than she had remotely anticipated, and it took a heartbeat to at least force it away so as to not cause the tom any pain as the result of an event that he had absolutely no control over.

Secondly, and the one that struck much more deeply, was just what that wounded creature deep down was. Who the panther that lurked in the deepest recesses of her mind and soul was, that patrolled and guarded the wounded parts of her. The one that had stirred when every flaming, scorching ember in her had burned out, save for a single one. That very singular one that had been pulled out of the river, drenched in the torrential rains of the waves and the storms, nurtured by the brown tabbied warrior from the river from entirely snuffing out. It was at that moment that the beast had risen with a singular task: defending. Protecting it with every single layer, every single movement. Every ounce of determination.

But that beast had a face. Had a name, all of its own, one that had been entirely ignored until now. It had been her heart, the passion that she knew of and felt. Her passion that she felt to be the best warrior that she could be. To defend her clan, at the cost of her life, at the cost of everything. Her passion to continuously push her body and mind to new heights that she had never seen, always being willing to sacrifice something of hers. Of the love that had been instilled in her from her mother, a gift that she could not entirely ignore no matter how deeply it had been hidden. Even in her sire had that rose enough to factor into her existence. As much as it seemed that she only could be marked as her mother's daughter by visage alone, there were more elements she had inherited than she had ever been willing to give credit for. It had been Flutterpetal that had stirred it, and it had been his memory that fueled the river-blessed shadow that protected it. That last ember that burned deep within, hardly flickering, only ever strong enough to keep her going.

Even as those realizations had struck her, the anxiety of being pulled away from the moment all-too soon still filled her eyes. A true panic that she could not stifle, no matter how much she tried, no matter how tightly she gripped that vine of self-control. It refused to yield to her beckoning, an emotion that was not under her control in the slightest. It was not until Flutterpetal uttered her name, spoken in a voice that held such a gentle promise that it was a mixture of shock and desperation that forced her anxieties to listen to it. The words that had slipped from her tongue not being ignored, but actually reciprocated.

How cruel was it that the stars had allowed her to discover one of the deepest, richest, most precious emotions for a tom that their will had determined would not stay on the forest for much long after it had settled into her chest? Her anger at such a fate would never truly settle. Ire at how such a pure being's light had been snuffed out too soon in a petty squabble that had not remotely needed such bloodshed, cursed to be a flame that ravaged the forest forever more. A twisted part of her wondered if this was some delayed divine punishment for the circumstances of her birth, that she should not have been and instead was now forced to wear the crown of thorns that represented the price paid.

She often felt that it was a crown of thorns that rested upon her head. That it was their sharp flora-based claws that dug into her mind, scratching and scraping in the few moments she let her guard down. But that was not the crown she was presented with, and it was impossible for the tortoiseshell to keep her eyes from once more welling with the liquid of emotion as the former Windclan tom picked up an all-too familiar tiara. One she had worn for moons, refusing to take off until every petal had browned and fallen away, the imperfections unweaving and untangling themselves to slowly shed. Even then, remnants of the stems had remained in her nest in Thunderclan until an apprentice had unwittingly removed it while serving a punishment of having to replace every warrior's bedding. Logic stated that the dead plants had no worth and were simply waste to be removed, but emotion had stated otherwise, and it was a deep feeling of loss that had settled in her mind for several days following the innocent mistake.

The molly bowed for no cat. Murkypaw had come from a lineage comprised of two mighty leaders, and now walked beneath the banner of one who had been held dear to her kin's heart. In perhaps wrongly-owned privilege, it had meant that she only ever dipped her head at most. But in that moment, as the fresh crown whose buds were also speckled with starlight, she bowed. Her head dipping towards the ground, allowing the crown to be placed firmly upon her head. It felt heavy and of nothingness all at once. Familiar, yet unfamiliar and otherworldly. It was fitting.

Slowly, her head rose once more, as if careful that it would fall from her head as Flutterpetal's voice once more filled her ears. Spoke not only to her as a cat, but directly to her heart, to that panther that now had settled its pacing. Listened intently with perked ears, a swishing tail that wished to hear more. That recognized its other half-the shadow calling to what she had found to be a light. But as he spoke, as fresh tears ran down her face, there was a fact she had been ignoring for far too long. There was more than one light that illuminated the world. Even as the sun was the brightest, even as Flutterpetal shown as her brightest light, there were others. Her light was the blaze of a flame, only ever truly visible in the depths of the night.

As the purpose of this meeting was not to only gain closure but to be bestowed with wisdom for her life beyond the simple name of 'Murkypaw,' it seemed it was time for her to face that knowledge. The stars-blessed wisdom that could only be imparted to her by the tom that sat across from her, mere breaths away. Breaths that should have been full of life, not simply habit-made movements. Truthfully, it was hard to feel that there was much left for her in the forest. She had left her blood-kin behind for another Clan out of the pain that had clawed itself in her chest, somehow moving closer to Windclan's lands. She now could sit at the gorge and stare across the abyss, looking into the moors. There had been nights she had wondered, had things been different, if she would see the onyx pelt that smelled of various flowers across that pit. If she could also see the brown fur that slipped through the grasses like an adder, the piercing yellowed gaze hunting her down like the bright rays of dawn, always following the eyes of the newest of grasses.

That was not the forest she walked. As much as she had realized that-internalized it, even-it was different to hear that from Flutterpetal directly. Words always failed her. She never truly know what to say, or how to say it, but he did. In a way, it was for the best that he never left room for her to speak. She simply would not have known what to say, or would have made a fool of herself doing such. As he stepped forward to press his nose to her own, there was no movement that she made to back away. No recoil in fear of the physical sensation as she often had around her clanmates, both with the river and the ones she had left behind in the bracken and brambles. Again, the parting felt all too soon, but as they had touched, it was as if he was imparting a new duty upon her.

There is happiness for you, Not a command, but a promise. A promise that only he could make to her, that only she would ever listen to from him.

It did little to dry the tears that now freely flowed down her patterned pelt, that fell down her cheeks, along the mark of her scarred eye, and fell onto the fur of her paws and the starry bladed grasses. If anything, it only promoted how they now fell. Her graceful frame shook and shuddered from silenced sobs, of hitched breaths that were quiet only out of the strong willpower to be able to hear each and every word he said. But even as her pain slipped from her eyes in beads of tears, inside, his words acted as a salve. Applied to the fractured pieces of her being, picking them up and mending them together. Helped bring her to who she truly was, but also something so much more.

A shattered sheet of ice could never once more become whole, no matter how much a cat attempted to piece it back together. It would seem whole from a distance, but the cracks would always be visible, the imperfections still there even if slightly melted and refrozen back together. Such logic was the same for her being. Pieces that would never truly come together fully again. It was in the in-between, in those very cracks, that the beauty truly shone. With each of his words he gave her something more. Pushed her to become something more, blessed her with a purpose. Of a reason to keep going beyond the spite and anger she felt at the stars for taking him away from her. She had been running for so long. Quite literally had ran from everything at the very moment that she had heard the former Windclan leader solidify Flutterpetal's fate atop that rock. Had nearly frozen herself to death in the river, had nearly starved herself in the initial stages of her grief... had brushed death with the tip of her tail so many times, and yet for some reason... kept going.

Had it been Flutterpetal's doing to push Rowansong to pull her from the river that night? Had it been in his new mantle that somehow he'd pushed her to keep going, had given her this second chance at life? Had somehow gifted her the rest of the life that he was supposed to have, but had it taken away by claws of hatred much too soon?

That was something she could not forsake. Never in her entire life could she forsake it. You have so much left for you. Don't make the mistake of thinking that none of it matters. Okay? He asked her. None of it seemed to matter to her, not when the one light she had learned to cherish had been snuffed out. But as much as she didn't want to admit it, as much as she wanted to resist it all... he was right. He was so, so incredibly right.

"Okay," The single word released on a shaky breath. It was released on unsure footing, quivering with the emotions that had so violently raged through her and internally battered her around like a storm. Had she not known any better, she would have sworn that winds of an actual storm were pushing her around. But just as the grasses around her were eerily silent was the simple fact that this was Starclan: a land of peace bountiful. Evidence pointed her to the fact that the war that currently waged on was internal. There was certainly a true war going on in the forest below, with the way their Clan had suddenly been thrust into hardship. But internally was a secondary one, one that she could not ignore as it neared its end.

Yet... she felt it. She felt those winds begin to stir, and in her heart, she knew it was a warning. As much as she wished to stay in these lands with him for ages, to run with him and once more see Adderdawn even, she would have to return to the realm of the waking. Back to the forest, where Sandyshell awaited her at the moonstone. Back to her Clan, where Perchstar would soon deem her worthy of a warrior name, of her full place within Riverclan. Where...

Where she would walk without him.

No matter how much she had attempted to swallow her grief, it would never truly be gone. Every flower she looked at stirred her memory of him, every time she patrolled the gorge, she looked out across in hopes of seeing him. Murkypaw knew that she always would, in some kittish attempt to hunt down that love. Of her ritualistic way to keep his memory alive, to never allow the forest to truly forget the onyx-pelted tom that wore flowers in his pelt and had shown grace to those that did not exist in Windclan. He had been so kind to those beyond his borders for a clan that had seemed to harbor nothing but hatred for those beyond, a true anomaly in the grand scheme of the forest. So she could never let his name simply fade on the wind, fade away to memories that would eventually die with the cats that held them.

Her tongue refused to allow her to say that one final word. Even as the winds stirred the long, feathery tufts of her pelt, as they gently rustled the lavender of her crown. Her paws moved forward, her head fully pushing itself up against the tom's own. "I will live." She softly spoke. It was her own promise, a personal vow between only herself and Starclan. Another vow would be taken soon, but this was one that meant so much more. A secretive vow that would stay between her and the stars, between herself and Flutterpetal. That his wisdom would not go lost on her, that his words would be imbued within her heart and fuel her pawsteps for many moons to come. But just as she spoke them, the winds seemed to pick up, the strong breeze pulling her away. Pulling everything in her senses away, even the gentle smile that greeted her. The eyes of newleaf grass.

"I'll always love you, Flutterpetal."

---

Cold was what instantly greeted her. Howling winds that echoed down the tunnel of Mothermouth, that lit up the cave with their song as they breezed past the entrance. It stirred long-stilled piles of dust, as well as the pelt of the tortoiseshell that was thrust away from the warm of the lands she had just seen. A kittish part of her had instantly pressed her nose back against the stone in an attempt to go back, not ready in the slightest to depart to the realm of the waking. Even as the obvious nothing happened, it still stirred a sense of disappointment in her chest. While her vulnerability had been clear while she dreamed, every wall that she had come to know had once more been fortified.

As another burst of wind puffed by, it was something small brushing upon the very edge of her paw that caught her attention. Snapped her head straight up and in its direction as she studied it. As soon as her eyes had adjusted... it was impossible not for a tear to break through. There was simply no mistaking what the plant of violet hue was, small as the strand may have been. All logic pointed to the fact that it was just an act of the wind blowing it by, given that Highstones was concealed just past Windclan's territory. But selfishly... part of her took it as a sign. The small strip of lavender was a remnant of her crown, the crown that had not fully escaped the land of the stars with her into the small cave that connected them to the living.

Instantly, she bore the flower between two of the sensitive pads of her paw, settling it into the crook between her ear and her head. The longer tufts of fur that created her pelt instantly pinned it in place, a personal omen and blessing that she would carry with her from the moonstone into her life beyond. Her life that she would live for him.

She would never forget him. Could not forget him, just as much as she could not forget her name. But... she could live for him.

And she would. For Flutterpetal.