Not everyone is as fortunate as we think. Sometimes families split up because it just couldn't work out. They may get together after time has healed, they may not, but then again, there are some families that stay together for life. Until death parts them, they are at one another's side. It doesn't just have to be the parents that split. Siblings can break apart from each other if they can't get along or something in their life happened that caused a distance that neither knows how to repair. 

There are times when we come back and see that our sibling has found someone else they care about through time. Perhaps it's a lover or just an insanely close friend. You watch from the side and realize that you've either been replaced or forgotten. That person clings onto your sibling like a mother or protective older sibling or friend. It doesn't take long for them to figure out that you're staring or you want to talk to them. Sometimes people don't feel mad when they see someone who makes their family happy. There are those who just want to make their family smile and happy, even if it means excluding them. Others walk over and slap that person for stealing their family away.

Whatever the case becomes, I think seeing that person around our family becoming another member, there's something that goes on in us that we can't describe.   


X X X

"I want to this one to be Lifekit," Raccoonstem whispered proudly, touching her newly-born son on the forehead, who let out a little mew. "His yellow pelt just reminds me of the sun, though I'm glad to see that he inherited some traits from me," she joked, licking the tom over the brown spots that dotted his shoulders. The two other kits didn't stir, but their little chests rose with each breath, taking in the cold air that filled the nursery.

Mothpaw eagerly sat in the corner, watching the new queen admire her three kits. Tigerfrost sat near, watching the kits with a loving eye. Her mate, Lionfur, stood outside the nursery to keep their three apprentices from charging in with enough energy to burn the sun out. Adderfang sat next to his mate, admiring their sons, ready to shelter and protect them for the rest of his life. Tumblekit sat in the far corner with her, head resting against her leg. She purred and craned her neck to see the other kits.

"Can we name this one Lilykit?" Raccoonstem asked Adderfang, touching their only light-colored daughter. "I find her pelt brighter and after that speech a few days ago, I can't help but feel like it's a name that suits her." The second oldest let out a cry when his mother's tongue cleaned him, which she held back a laugh. The last kit of the group, the only kit that had resembled his mother's dark brown pelt, except for the few yellow patches of fur on his eartips and left paw he got from his father let out mews, somehow sensing his older siblings got affection.

Is she... is she going to name all of her kits just because of their pelt color? Mothpaw thought, keeping her mouth shut. Adderfang had no intention of arguing with his mate and only showered her with a series of licks.

"And..." Raccoonstem pondered, touching her pink nose to the smokey-gray, almost dark brown tom. "Deathkit."

A silence enveloped the nursery.

Adderfang stopped and glanced at his mate and then back at his youngest son, staring at the tiny kit as it had just grown wings. Tigerfrost's jaws were parted, curiosity and confusion lingering on her face, but she controlled herself and didn't let Raccoonstem know. Outside, Lionfur momentarily stopped holding his kits back, sharing the same feeling everycat in the nursery had. The apprentices wiggled around him, almost making it into the den before they were caught and shoved back outside. Mothpaw's heart fell to her stomach with a clang.

What...?

"Did you say Deathkit?" asked Adderfang, confirming the suspicions.

"Yes," the queen replied confidently. "The name suits them and goes with the rest of our kits."

"How, exactly...?" Adderfang sounded scared to ask her, afraid she'd snap like a twig and lash out. Raccoonstem had the opposite reaction and purred loudly, circling her tail around the three kits, allowing them to fall into a long sleep surrounded by both parents.

"It's simple, really," she explained, touching each kit respectfully as she continued. "Life started long ago and thrived until the light came, but no cat should ever live forever in this world, no matter how beautiful and amazing it may be. In the end, death awaits us all, but when we die, we go somewhere else to continue that life, a place that StarClan can't tread. Only then does life continue in the light, and soon enough, the process starts all over again."

Tigerfrost let out a cough and dipped her head to the new parents. "I better get going, now that you know what you're doing." Without another response, the orange warrior slipped out, greeted her mate. Mothpaw picked up Tumblekit, his body weighing no more than a large rabbit, and left the nursery, leaving Adderfang in the dust with Raccoonstem and her logic. The tom kit swayed back and forth limply, not protesting or letting out any cries of resistance. 

She thought there was some sense to what the CinderClan she-cat just said, but Mothpaw didn't want to spend her entire day listening to her ramble on. Dropping off Tumblekit back to Splashpelt's side, she bid them farewell and bounded to the medicine cat den to check on her older sister. Inside, she immediately spotted Scarpaw next to Honeypaw's sleeping figure and the hunched-over pelt of Dapplefur. Sitting a few inches away was Whitepaw, her older sister not lingering around her side for once. The white apprentice's eyes lit up at the sight of her entrance and let out a chirp, signaling her mother of the arrival.

Dapplefur glanced over her shoulder, acknowledged Mothpaw, and returned to her work. Uncurling herself, Whitepaw strolled closer, ready to embrace the older apprentice when the calico she-cat sprang from her spot, a patch of herbs in her mouth. She jumped across the small den, nearly blowing into the apprentices, and left, heading straight for the nursery. Then the den was silent, both cats staring at each other, waiting for the medicine cat to return.

She didn't and Mothpaw dropped her shoulders, letting out a sigh. Whitepaw came over and smiled warmly, glancing at Honeypaw and Scarpaw. The tom watched the two carefully, refusing to let them out of his sights.

"How are things with her, exactly?" Mothpaw whispered, hinting to the she-cat.

Whitepaw blinked, frowned, and then chirped. "Oh! Really good, actually! She's still really sad and feels like we shouldn't be around her because of what happened, but it's totally fine! I think she wants us to live a happy life since it didn't go as well as she thought, but spending time with her and my father is the best!"

"Were you always like this?" asked Mothpaw, leaning closer to keep Scarpaw out of the conversation. "Knowing you were really only born just to be sacrificed to StarClan and then suddenly it turns out you're not needed anymore."

"I don't know what you and other cats really want me to answer with," Whitepaw replied sternly. "Are you looking for something like regret or anger? I don't know what you want, but you're not the only cat that has asked this. You probably know who I'm talking about."

Beechpaw. "I'm just a little curious, that's all," she answered. "I'm not very strong in fights so I try to do my best in other areas, which I figure the best way is to solve individual problems or figure out the secrets that linger around MeadowClan. Maybe if we hear everything, we'll be able to fit pieces together."

"Ooh, that sounds loads of fun! Let me join!" Whitepaw said, puffing her fur out. "I'm brave and strong, even if I am a walking mistake."

"I've never seen you as a mistake. To me, you're a strong apprentice that tries her hardest, always looking out for the ones she considers family." Mothpaw glanced at Scarpaw, who drew his ears back, ready to slip over to Whitepaw's side. She assured him she meant no harm, and eventually, the red-furred tom rested, the wounds rushing back to him along with the still body of Honeypaw beside him getting colder and colder.

Whitepaw grinned and Mothpaw felt her heart twist at the genuine smile. "I hope I can live up to those ideals. Seeing you praise me when I'm the one who just supports from the sides not really doing much makes me really glad to have you in my life." With that, the young apprentice turned tail and jumped out of the den, probably off to find her sister or mother.

That left Mothpaw and Scarpaw alone, pulling the den into an awkward silence like the one in the nursery. She shuffled in her paws nervously, unsure what to say. To her, the tom had just come in as another part of her sister, showing no redeeming qualities except a strong urge to protect her sister. Anywhere she went, the icy glare from the tom followed her, almost testing or searching for some kind of evidence proving that the two she-cats were related.

At least Beechpaw showed some bold and daring traits that mirrored Honeypaw's steps, and Mothpaw could only think of times when the two of them laughed and joked. Causing a foe to laugh themselves to death on the battlefield would be a mortifying way to be remembered, so she understood why the two sisters hardly spent any time with each other. The sister that had left that day never came back, and the cat that had returned was nothing more than an alternate version of her.

Then again, she thought, brushing away cobwebs that clotted her mind. I've never tried talking to him because he seemed so intimidating. When he's by Honeypaw's side, he's like a fragile kitten. How sweet. Mothpaw padded forward and stopped by their side, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Hi, Scarpaw...?" she started out, tripping over her words. "We haven't really talked too much, and I know I stick to my brother's side way too much, but I never got to know you. You're just... the apprentice that came back with my sister."

"Yeah, apologizes for never talking with you," Scarpaw answered, brushing his ear with a paw. "Uh... Mothpaw, right?"

Honeypaw... never mentioned us? Mothpaw tried to not let her disappointment sink through her features with a quick nod. "Yep! I'm Mothpaw, nice to meet you."

"You too."

The conversation died just as fast as it started. Mothpaw waited for the tom to answer, but he didn't speak after the answer, eyeing her carefully. Like before, she could feel his gaze bore into her, watching for each twitch of a whisker or flick of a tail. Her mind raced a million miles an hour, questioning if the quiet tom could read her jumbled thoughts. The faint sound of Honeypaw's chest moving with each breath continued, the only source of sound that shouted over the silence they shared.

Her paws began to tingle and shake while Scarpaw's face dropped. Then he lowered his head and set it on his paws, staying close to her sister. Mothpaw didn't have to ask in order to understand the tom's feelings around the golden apprentice. His shoulders were tense but relaxed, awake and asleep, and more than willing to stay by Honeypaw's side. A stab to the heart, she stumbled back, turning her head to avoid his stare.

A longing rose in her throat, wanting to reclaim the position she had lost. The position of a younger sister that was by her family's side, not just her brother's. Seeing Scarpaw become that sibling or ally figure made her paws walk on clouds and sink into the deepest river. The tom noticed the staring and cleared his throat.

"Is something wrong?"

It's rude to speak out and condemn you for just staying at her side. Besides, that's something Beechpaw would do, not me. Mothpaw shook her head but Scarpaw rolled his eyes, unbelieving.

"What's going on in your head?"

Change the subject, change the subject, she prayed. That's one of the very few things you're good at. "Can I ask you something, please?"

"Sure...?"

"How did you meet my sister? I'm not mad at you, promise." Mothpaw bounced over and sat in a nearby nest, shuffling herself into a comfortable spot. "I just want to know how you got so close." She didn't include her curiosity about her father's whereabouts were or where Honeypaw had gone with Ripplestone the day she left MeadowClan. Testing Scarpaw's patience and limits was something she didn't want to do, especially if the little apprentice packed the strength of a full-grown warrior. Clashing heads was like asking a mouse to fight a fox.

Instead of answering angrily, the red tom rolled his shoulders back and stared at Honeypaw, eyes traveling to a distant world. "We met when she and her father saved a group of apprentices. We were raised in one of those groups of rogues you're after, but escape wasn't possible for us. They came, able to grab us and run without too much of a battle."

I was expecting... more...

"That's all there is. Ripplestone had a few other cats on his side, all connected to defeating the rogues that threatened you."

"Why would a pack of... you know what I mean, try to protect us? We can defend ourselves plenty well," she protested.

"Really?" he groaned. "Then what was that last battle? Your deputy and others died. How do you call that defending yourself?"

"Umm... I think it was they got us in surprise."

"I don't blame you for not being prepared," explained Scarpaw. "Any group of cats would be taken back if a surprise attack came just like that. The main concern is now they know the location of your camp. Now what?"

That icicle of words shot through her heart. Dread washed over her in heaps, the walls of the den closing in on her. Her back shivered as if a thousand pairs of eyes rested and watched her every move. Mothpaw bit her tongue and curled herself into a tiny ball under her fur, trying to let the quaking in her legs settle. With that piece in mind, the camp seemed a little smaller and the world, a little stronger.

"Honeypaw talked about you guys once. She told me that Beechpaw was her role-model for everything she wanted. He was brave, stubborn, bold, and he'd snap and let everyone know exactly what he was thinking without holding back. Then she mentioned you, you being a copy of your mother. However, she said even though you were shy and afraid to take leaps, you'd stay behind and learn more than the average cat - only thing you did to share this was telling other cats to speak out." She waited to hear about their third brother, but when he said nothing, she let Gorsekit slip her mind once again.

After all, the so-called "brother" of hers was more than a mere memory with a name along the lines of Gorsekit.

"She said that...?" she spoke, leaning forward to stare at her sister's rising pelt. "Even if she's a complete stranger now, she said that?" Mothpaw added a, "But that isn't a positive description of me." Scarpaw showed no signs that he heard that part, and she let the comment die just as fast as it came out of her mouth. If Honeypaw heard that in her sleep, she'd have to go and apologize for saying something like that.

She figured if their places were switched, she'd be someone entirely new - or maybe she wouldn't since Mothpaw found it better if other cats spoke before her.

"Your father and her really love you, but I don't approve of the way they choose to show it," Scarpaw said. "I lost my parents before I even opened my eyes so I don't feel any kind of absence in my life, but forcing themselves to shelter themselves apart from their family and then immediately jumping on them when everything's fixed isn't the way to go about it."

"I... I don't think I need my father's love anymore. Regarding Honeypaw, I don't mind if she's a stranger to me. If we can't be sisters, then all I can hope is she stays alive." Her mind flashed back to the moment Nettlestar leapt across the field and snatched her between the jaws, her body dangling like a corpse. The blood that spilled out of the victim's mouth and the flimsy hope that was said before his death.

Mothpaw shuddered and tried to think about other, lighter things rather than the looming fate of every cat. A black cat that slunk through the shadows awaiting the weak and strong while a lighter cat wove their way through the harsh weather and rested in the snow, enjoying the world and all its misery. That's what she saw ever since she lost three family members. The only remotely happy thing she could think of was the birth of Lifekit, Lightkit, and Deathkit - and that hope was shot down after she remembered Raccoonstem's strange philosophy.

"Tell me," she said, eyeing the entrance for any spying cats. "My father, Ripplestone, is he alive? You'll go back to wherever this is done after the other rogues are defeated, right?"

"Only two of us," he answered with a long sigh, glancing toward another nest in the den that smelled strongly of Breezepaw and Whitepaw. "That plan failed and we weren't going to let them die out there. We saved them and told them about their fate but instead of hating it, they embraced it and called it their own. Coming here was the right choice for them."

"They're going to stay?"

"What do you think?" Scarpaw pointed to Dapplefur's nest. "They might've been born illegally based on your code, but they can't bring themselves to separate from their mother or father."

Separate from their mother or father. The words sent ice down her back. Mothpaw tried to dig up memories of both of her parents, but each time she uncovered something, she'd only throw it aside when it was revealed to be another memory of her loving mother. The cliff she stood on trembled with the song of a powerful earthquake, splitting the rock in two where she stood, the rock she stood on pulling farther and farther away from her father. When she looked down, a choke stabbed her throat, and Beechpaw's pleading expression dragged her down.

"I already lost two siblings, but I swear to you I'll keep you safe because I'm your big brother!"

A promise Mothpaw forced her brother to follow by every day. Neither of them cared that the other lacked any kind of social skills when the other wasn't around; all they wanted and truly needed was each other. If it meant she had to sacrifice herself to save her, she'd do it in a heartbeat, no matter how broken and damaged she'd leave her brother in. The same feeling was reciprocated, forcing the two siblings to walk on air in the middle of nowhere, constantly looking over their shoulders.

"Scarpaw," she stated, firmly placing her paw on her sister's side. "You better protect her, promise me!" Mothpaw started before he had the chance to answer. "Beechpaw and I failed at that, so you better take care of her! Please...?"

His face softened and he nodded, touching Honeypaw's forehead with the tip of his tail. "I know I can keep that promise. One day, I'll help her open up again, and that'll be enough to make me happy."

"Keep her safe." Mothpaw headed toward the exit, her next goal being to locate Finchpaw and Flintpaw before she had to go train. She looked over her shoulder with one eye and smiled at the rogue apprentice. "I want you at her side."