shadow over stars [c]

As they stopped to rest, Leopardstar curled up some distance from her Clanmates; reluctant to let herself stand too close. It wasn't that she feared them getting hurt for her presence--no more than usual--but rather that she didn't want them to see her weakness. Face tucked into her paws, truly alone for the first time since the chaos began, she choked back a sob.

This grief was familiar. She'd felt it time and again in the past moons, and in every season of her life: even her earliest memories were defined by it. The chill of death was one she knew well.

Just days after earning her warrior name, she had watched as her parents--the ones who had taken her in, who had loved her and raised her; the ones who had been still alive--chose to lay down their lives for the sake of stars she'd never seen.

Even now, a leader that carried their weight and their invisible mark, she couldn't help but resent them for it.

Not Deerleap or Sootwhisker. No, she had left that anger behind in the moment. But the stars themselves, their helpless ancestors, those who left the living to fight their battles.

Green eyes glanced skyward, then back to the ice and snow and dirt and stone. The real and solid things that she could feel beneath her paws.

Once upon a time, she had sworn to focus on them; and to not be caught up in death. What happened?

Her first parents, the ones whose names she no longer knew.

Deerleap. Sootwhisker. Vixenpaw.

Dawnkit. Cinderpaw. Asterpaw.

Moondancer. Batswarm.

Honeylight.

And now Echomist.

She knew that it wasn't a curse, that not everyone she loved was doomed to die, but it certainly felt that way at times like this; so hard to see the promised sunlight through the veil of darkness cast over her vision.

As not one but two of her Clanmates approached, Leopardstar was forced to acknowledge that she hadn't moved as far from them as she should have. Memory struck her; the night the stars returned, unwanted comfort offered as she grieved her dead kin. Questioning what she should say to her sister, how to say that their parents were gone and not coming back.

That grief had never left her, had it? Not really. It covered her as surely as clouds would come to fill the sky.

But time and experience gave her something that young, angry Leopardsun hadn't had. Words that could adequately express her thoughts, and the composure to speak them rather than shouting in frustration. She took a deep breath, struggling to keep her voice even.

"You might be sorry, but I don't know that you understand. I don't know that anyone does."