A lore scene for what lies below in this chapter; Be warned, that this particular chapter contains lots of angst, a pretty big twist, descriptions of blood, and brief mentions of suicide. 

A cold, Leafloss wind swept across the ridges and rocks of BleakClan's mountain, chilling Hopewilt and Bluehawk to the bones. The moon was climbing sleepily up its dusky ladder, seeming to drag its step with two pairs of eyes trained on it. 

Hopewilt shivered, and fluffed her silky fur even more than it had been before, edging away from the rockface she'd been leaning on; it had lost the warmth it had absorbed during the heat of the day and was now freezing. She looked over to Bluehawk, who was staring stonily into the distance, sleek blue-gray fur bushed out. 

Hopewilt was terribly bored; The night seemed to be so much longer than it had ever been before, more tedious than all the nights she'd lay awake after her nightmares, waiting for dawn. She cleared her throat. "So... Are you happy with your name?" Bluehawk side-eyed his sister. "Sure." His response was clipped and short, edged with a chill that a stranger from an enemy Clan might have when addressing his foe. "Mine wasn't what I expected," she continued, trying to get some sort of conversation going. "But I like it. It's nice."

"Why are you talking to me?"

"Jeez- I was just trying to be civil. We're warriors now, not immature kits."

"We've been warriors for a few hours. Stop acting all high-and-mighty."

"I-" Annoyed, she huffed and moved slightly away from him. Fine, then. Be rude. "Now that you're a warrior, you're going to be taking Emeraldshatter as a mate?" It was more of a statement than a question, and Hopewilt already knew the answer. His ears pinned slightly. "For your information, yes. I'm taking her as mine tomorrow, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She scoffed sarcastically. "Have fun, then."

"You're just mad because there's no tom in this Clan that would ever want you as their mate." His voice took on a malicious, bitter tone, and Hopewilt reeled back in surprise at the dig at her personal life. He was right, in that she'd never been truly interested in any cat in her Clan, she-cat, or tom. She just didn't connect with anyone in that way, and besides, the only other young-ish cat in the Clan was Beartooth. And they'd barely even ever spoke. But why was he being so mean?

"Bluehawk, what happened to us? We're siblings, for stars' sake! We share the same blood, slept in the same nest, played the same games- Now we hardly talk, and when we do, we're at each other's throats like wolves!"

"We grew up," Bluehawk sniffed. "I found Emeraldshatter, you found Screechpaw. Simple as that."

"Screechpaw's been dead for moons- or did you even notice? When I was at death's paws, depressed out of my mind and delirious with fever, you didn't check on me once- Heck, did you even notice when I lost my tail? No, because you were too busy, following that stuck-up, awful, sorry excuse for a she-cat!" Past trying to be civil, or talk like 'warriors', Hopewilt felt fury rise in her chest, finally pouring out all the repressed feelings of being ignored. But she received no apology or sympathy. 

Bluehawk's lips curled up in a snarl, and his claws dug into the stone of the cliff. "Why would I have checked on you? You killed our brother- I may have not been close to him, but I still loved him- more than I'll ever love you." 

"I didn't kill him!" Her voice broke to a sob, and panic gripped her body, making her breath come in gasps. "I didn't, and you know it!" 

Tension hung in the air, dark as a storm and itching to break. Soon, Hopewilt's mind flipped from panic, back to fury. "You know what? I'm done explaining myself to you. I don't care if you're miserable for the rest of your life- Because all you are is an egotistical, cruel,"

"SHUT UP!"

"Crow-food-eating liar, and if you died tomorrow, I wouldn't even care-"

In an instant, agony flashed across Hopewilt's face, sending her to her knees. Hot crimson spilled down across her cream-coloured fur, one eye stuck shut with blood. Bluehawk's eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and hurt, as he stared coldly down at a cat he'd once considered his kin. His claws dug even deeper into the unforgiving stone beneath him. "I said, SHUT UP!" he hissed, his voice laced with a venomous rage that sent a shiver down Hopewilt's spine.

Lifting her paw to her face, she traced a long furrow from her brow to just under the bags of her left eye. Shaking with shock and pain, she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. The world was tinted scarlet, and though, mercifully, she could still see through both of her eyes, one refused to stay open, weighed down by the sticky crimson pooling in it. As she struggled to grasp what had happened, the world started to spin.

"Y-you tried to blind me." Bluehawk didn't respond, blood- his sister's blood- beading on the fur around his muzzle, and right paw. 

The night fell silent again as Hopewilt struggled to her paws, her entire body trembling. "You could have killed me- your kin! Your flesh-and-blood!"  She cried, voice raw and breaking. "I. Don't. Care." Bluehawk's expression was deadpan. "I am not your kin. Not your littermate. Not your flesh and blood. We may have the same mother, but we will never be siblings again." He leaned down closer to Hopewilt, hardly flinching at the scent of blood on the air, at the sight of her crouched on the stone, blood marring her features beyond recognition. "Understand?"

"You're a monster," She screamed, not caring if her Clan heard. "That's just fine with me! I never want to see you again! In a fit of rage, she tried to strike out at him, but she missed, and he scoffed. "Pathetic. Get out of my sight." 

Blood and tears blurring her vision, the world a sickening blur of black and crimson, she stumbled down the cliffside, tripping repeatedly as sobs of horror and pain wracked her body. An owl let out its ghostly cry above her head, and the woosh of wings skimmed above her head. She knew not where she was going, nor what would happen when she got there, but anywhere was better than back in a Clan where she had no littermates, no one besides her mother who loved her, and so many pairs of prying eyes asking questions. 

The rocks faded into grass and bushes, and the sounds of a forest at night rang in her ears. She stumbled into a fragrant-smelling bush, and fell to her side, dizzy and sick with panic. It seemed like she'd been running for hours, time-warped so badly that the only tell of how long she'd been running before collapsing, was the blood beginning to dry on her wound, and the adrenaline wearing off to give way to searing agony. 

When her breathing finally slowed to a heavy pant, and she no longer felt like she was going to pass out, she sat up. The bush she'd found herself in was a large Antlerberry bush- the most toxic plant in the mountains. She remembered that, as a young apprentice, she'd been chastised for smelling the blossoms. Now, the berries were plump and ripe, their yellow-and-red speckled skins gleaming in the pale light that shone through the branches. They were obviously hearty plants, and the thick leaves had shielded the fruit from the frost. 

She used her claws to slice one off of its stem, watching it fall to the ground in front of her. Taunting her. For a frightening moment, she contemplated eating it- her troubles gone in an instant. A few seconds of pain, then eternal bliss, with Screechpaw by her side. She picked the berry up... And set it down again. Some deep instinct was wailing in her head to stop- and she listened. 

The moon was past its highest point in the sky, and cold crept into her bones as she crouched on the ground in the dark. Despair overwhelmed her entire body, making tears spring to her eyes once again. She felt so alone. No friends, no lover, no littermates, only her mother and other distant kin back in the camp, blissfully unaware of what had transpired. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the crust of blood over her eye and all over her face prickle as it dried. Completely exhausted, and willing for the pain to finally go away, she slipped away into a nightmare-filled, cold, restless sleep. 

Fun Fact: Antlerberries are a completely fictional plant, made up for the purpose of this story. They're deadly to kits, the weak and sick, and the very elderly, and incredibly dangerous to even healthy cats. In cases of chronic pain, a cat will sometimes choose to take one of these berries to end their suffering; The symptoms of ingestion include foaming at the mouth, seizures, uncontrollable rolling of the eyes, vomiting, paralysis, and death within minutes. The only cure for a small amount, if caught on time, is Yarrow. They bloom in early Snowmelt and bear fruit until late Leafloss, in which case they shrivel up and fall to the ground.