FEATHERPAW'S POV

A somber atmosphere filled the camp, muffled cries and sniffles sounding out every few seconds as Featherpaw trailed around the edge of the camp, watching the scene with bleak eyes.

His two littermates, Tanglepaw and Gullpaw weren't far behind, both had their ears pinned to their head and were wandering slowly behind him. Silently, he wondered what they were thinking.

Windywing was dead. Alas, he didn't know the grey she-cat very well, but she'd been killed pointlessly by SandClan protecting her kits.

And that battle?

That was launched on WillowClan because SandClan wanted him and his littermates. Featherpaw and his littermates were half-clan, and SandClan had wanted one of them to even it out. Him, Tanglepaw and Gullpaw were fine. They didn't need to move Clans.

Still, guilt pierced his heart, as if he was the cause for this. The cause for three kits to be partially orphaned.

"I should've gone to SandClan." Featherpaw mumbled, and his sister's eyes went wide.

"Don't you dare say that Featherpaw! You were not to blame for this, and you know it!" Tanglepaw yelled, pacing beside the grey tom quickly.

It still didn't reassure him though. There could've been something, at least..

"I know, Tanglepaw. But I can't help but feel guilty."

"Everyone feels guilty, not just you. Buzzardstar probably feels guilty for not being able to protect his Clan. Foxstripe feels guilty for not intervening. Heck- Margarinefur feels guilty, and he wasn't even here!"

But they weren't the cause of the battle, were they?

Featherpaw sighed, collapsing onto the floor. There was no point in arguing with Tanglepaw, she was stubborn and it would go nowhere.

"Fine. You win this time." He scoffed, turning away from the calico as Gullpaw trotted up towards them, blue eyes sympathetic.

Groaning in annoyance, Featherpaw placed his head in his paws. Seriously! His brother too?

"Oh what are you going to say now? Come on then, let me hear it."

Gullpaw seemed slightly alarmed, blinking a few times, before shaking his head in amusement. "You know that Wildberry would want us to follow our hearts. Are our hearts with SandClan? I don't think so."

"Definitely not, after what they've done." Tanglepaw approached, a hiss in her voice as she glanced over at the vigil in the clearing. "They can think again."

Scanning the clearing, Featherpaw looked up at Gullpaw. He was right. Their mother would want them to follow their heart, not because some stranger Clan directed them.

Some moons ago, their mother Wildberry had met a SandClan cat by the name of Sootspots. The two of them fell in love, which ended in kits. Wildberry didn't want kits, but tried her best to care for the six of them.

First Hazelkit died — Featherpaw could barely remember her, grey-furred and mewling with sickness, died barely a moon old. Then Cedarkit — who did bring a twinge to his heart, had died barely a few moons after, diminished in a fire that Twolegs lost control of. And Mosspaw, resided in SandClan, who he didn't know, nor was really bothered about.

And Wildberry had ended up following her heart to SandClan with Sootspots, but ended up captured by Twolegs, never seen again.

His thoughts were jolted by the sight of the vigil breaking up, Margarinefur struggling to stand, supported by the medicine cat Tricklestream by his side. The three kits, he wasn't sure of their names - the golden one dragged himself alongside the grey one, both with misty eyes.

The third one, the smallest of the litter trotted behind, where his eyes followed with concern.

"You need any help there?" He asked, a small bout of amusement at the ginger kit, her fur stuck up in all directions by the wind.

"I think I'll be alright." She lisped back, but dipped her head gratefully. "I don't think I've seen you before."

"I'm Featherpaw. Dragonflydusk's apprentice." Featherpaw introduced, and the kits blue eyes went wide with recognition.

"Oh, you're that apprentice that beat Bramblepaw in that race! Dragonflydusk was beside herself! She came in the nursery and she told us all about it."

"That's me." The apprentice responded back, a hint of amusement in his voice. If that's what he was recognised for, then so it be. "We had a bet, if Bramblepaw won the race, I'd try and hunt twice the amount of prey he could, if I won, he'd clean the elders' den."

"Awesome!" She mewed back, licking a paw hesitantly, watching as Margarinefur walked into the den, Tricklestream not far behind, some unidentifiable herbs in her mouth.

"Emberkit! Come on! You can talk to Featherpaw later." Margarinefur peeked his head out the nursery, beckoning his daughter to follow.

Emberkit, as Featherpaw now knew her, waved her tail and trotted into the den.

"See you around." His yellow eyes were filled with warmth as he watched the ginger kit took one final look at him before snuggling next to her father's pelt. Guilt ravaged in him as he webbed his claws out, scratching the floor in frustration.

If only he had gone with SandClan!

"If I'd done that, then Windywing wouldn't be dead over some stupid petty fight! It was that simple- and now she's gone, and I can't do anything." Painfully, his words caught, like thistles were caught in his throat.

There was nothing that Featherpaw could do to help Windywing now, her body was at the opposite end of camp, nestled underneath the Leader's Crag. A few cats - including his mentor Dragonflydusk- were crowded around, probably preparing the burial, if he was to guess.

Shadecreek was also there - Windywing's foster daughter, the latter practically a mother to the black tabby she-cat. At least Shadecreek was fully grown- Emberkit and her siblings were only kits.

Of course! He almost facepawed in realisation. Featherpaw might not be able to help Windywing, but he could help the kits. Maybe supporting them would prevent the ever growing pit of guilt that grew in his chest.

"I mean, I've been through something similar. Except the part where I was responsible-" He sighed in annoyance; "-Don't go thinking like that! Tanglepaw told you not to feel guilty, you mousebrain."

Admittedly, he did feel a little stupid talking to himself in the middle of camp, when Tricklestream trotted over from the Medicine Den, a tangy scented herb in her mouth.

"You here for Margarinefur and the kits?" He questioned.

"Yup." Her voice was smooth and gentle, yet raw with grief. "I'm giving them thyme for grief. They need it, bless to StarClan their hearts."

"I know." Featherpaw nodded back, eyes drifting across the clearing, where Dragonflydusk was gesturing for him. "-I better go." Wondering what his mentor wanted, the apprentice walked over, leaving Tricklestream hovering outside the nursery.

——————————————————————————

"Poor doves." Emberkit tried to shy away as Frondheart gently licked the side of her pelt, Smokekit and Blazekit stood beside her, equally bewildered.

Not that she didn't like Frondheart, but the queen could be a bit.. consuming.

"They are weaned, aren't they?" Frondheart questioned as Emberkit's father paced up beside them. "If not I can still feed them - since Lilykit and Juniperkit aren't eating prey yet."

"Thanks Frondheart." Margarinefur lisped, his paws shaky and eyes dull. He lurched over, paws clinging to the floor heavily, glancing at his kits with sorry eyes.

It scared her. Her father looked.. different. And Windywing was gone, which she wasn't really believing yet.  Maybe it hadn't hit her yet.

"They're weaned and on solid food, so they'll be fine." It felt like moons past before her father continued, his tail flicking lightly as he collapsed in Windywing's nest, right beside Frondheart. "But kits, if you do want to sleep in Frondheart's nest; that's fine."

Emberkit suppressed a grimace as she stepped aside, watching Blazekit getting cleaned by the grey tabby queen, and accidentally bumped into Frondheart's kits. One of them squeaked and wriggled furiously, and Emberkit swatted out a paw as it's hind legs hit her.

"No! I'm not staying here with these things, they're too squishy and squeaky. And they kick a lot."

She heard Frondheart giggle as she trudged off to the pelt of her father, trying her best to curl up to him. However much the ginger she-kit tried, she couldn't get comfy. Margarinefur was broad and bulky, and his pelt was all spiky. This was nothing like sleeping with Windywing, warm and cosy.

"I brought thyme for you." She was brought out a stupor by a white long haired she-cat entering the den, Tricklestream. Her eyes were sympathetic as she leant down, presenting the herbs to her father.

"They should help with the shock and overall effect."

"Thanks." Margarinefur ducked down, lapping up some of the leaves down himself, then dividing the herbs up equally for the three kits. Emberkit stared at them warily, her blue eyes trained on Tricklestream.

The herbs smelled tangy, and they itched her nose irritably, and Emberkit sneezed lightly, backing away from the thyme.

"I don't want them." She shook her head lightly, as her golden furred father gave a small sigh.

"Please Emberkit. Tricklestream is only trying to help, they'll make you feel better, I promise."

"I feel fine." She pressed. Sure she did! Tricklestream didn't need to help them, she could go do - whatever medicine cats did. The white-furred cat was only being nice, but a flicker of agitation scoured her face.

It should be Windywing helping them, not this Tricklestream who seemed overly too nice in Emberkit's eyes!

"Want Windywing. Not her." She muttered, swiping the thyme leaves with a paw, and they scattered across the nest, where her brother watched with wide eyes.

"Emberkit! She's only trying to help." Blazekit narrowed his eyebrows, looking back at Tricklestream. A scatter of green surrounded his mouth, where he'd already eaten the herbs. And Smokekit was already gently dozing by Margarinefur, letting off shaky whimpers.

"I know that!" Emberkit lightly sighed, pressing into her father's hind leg, her face flushed in frustration and helplessness. But it wasn't Windywing she was leant against - her mother wasn't there-

No soothing words of goodnight, no being nicknamed plum.

And that was one of the last things I said... don't call me plum..

She sniffled, letting out a short whimper, and embarrassment made her pelt spike up. Emberkit didn't want anyone to see her like this! Small hiccupy cries left her mouth as she pressed against her father's pale orange pelt. Blazekit was quiet. He had gone to sleep.

A small faint glow, humming and misty slowly interrupted her vision, and Emberkit blinked in confusion. Her vision was funny from clenching her eyes so tight.

There was a glowing, not stark and bitter, but warm and welcoming, small scatter of.. something floating around. She squinted, trying to make more focus of what was infront of her. The small objects floating were flower petals, bright blue and gently glistening in the midst of the glow.

There, materialised a figure, tall and glowing white, with slim fur, a scruffy chest and a twist of fur falling over their forehead, over two, sharp and vivid smoky dark blue eyes, tinted with swirls of grey.

A twinge of recognition filled her, but she could feel sleep cover her as the small ginger kit let darkness encase her vision and pull her into the abyss of sleep, while faint words whispered in her ears.

"The bird's plumage offers consolation where there is none. But watch for the talons that pierce, for you will be the sixth. Even in death, you cannot escape the birds' talons."

••
A/N
First chapter up! I'm really happy with this, since it's quite a long chapter compared to what I usually write. Anyone got any thoughts so far? What's your opinion of Emberkit, or Featherpaw?

Feedback and opinions are really appreciated! I won't be writing a chapter this week, since I have school exams on and I have to revise loads.
(Which sucks!)

See ya!
Ember <3