The warrior code is simple; the spirit of it can be put in a single phrase: the Clan must come first. So why is it so hard to follow?
I tried to be a "good" warrior. I stood by my Clanmates. I fought with them, and I fought for them. But is that really all that being a warrior means? To simply be there and to fight? By that standard, Tigerclaw would have been the finest warrior the Clans have ever seen, and we all know how far from the truth that is.
So, what really makes a warrior?
I don't know. Do you?
I lived a long time, and I went through a lot – most of it, I wish I hadn't gone through. And I learned a lot. I have a theory…
It goes back to Tigerclaw.
From the beginning, he was one of ThunderClan's finest warriors. Even though he was barely a moon older than me, I looked up to him…and so did many others.
We grew close as apprentices and closer as warriors. No one thought he could get so close to another cat; I was the one to prove them wrong. I remember curling up by his side and falling asleep with him purring sweetly in my ear.
The world was beautiful then, everything vibrant and full of life. I was in love. I never doubted that Tigerclaw loved me back.
I probably should have.
When he started taking on more and more warrior duties, more and more patrols, he became distant – not just from me, but from everyone. Some thought he was obsessed, but most others thought he was simply dedicated to his Clan.
They were each a little bit right, but I knew better, even then. It was much more complex than that.
After he returned from the battle with RiverClan – the one when Redtail died – he didn't talk to me as much, and when he did, it wasn't the same as before. To me, he was still my closest friend. To him, I was just another warrior.
It hurt.
I should have given up my hopes for a relationship right there, but I couldn't. I dreamed of him often – the tone of his voice, the feel of his fur. I tried so hard to forget, but every time I closed my eyes, he was there.
I took another tom as a mate, thinking I could distract myself. Blackfang was a senior warrior at the time, much older than me. He was kind to me, and was an honorable cat. I should have been happy, but part of me was always wracked with guilt, knowing that, at least subconsciously, I was only trying to make Tigerclaw jealous.
Every day was dragged out of me, and I knew it couldn't last. It didn't feel right.
Still, I stayed loyal to Blackfang until the end. He was struck by a monster on the Thunderpath shortly after our only son, Swiftkit, was born. I grieved for Blackfang, but I couldn't ignore the part of me that was happy that it was over – that I wouldn't have to break his heart.
Tigerclaw came back to me, in a way, then. The Clan thought he was just trying to comfort me; I knew otherwise. Tigerclaw was beyond that by then. He wanted something, and he knew that I was the one cat that would give it to him without question.
I knew he didn't love me then, but I let him have what he wanted.
I gave birth to two more kits, this time Tigerclaw's. He was such a proud father, always looking at our two kits so admiringly. I thought that, with kits to tie us together, maybe he would start to love me again.
I wish I hadn't been so blind.
Tigerclaw visited the nursery often. The other queens went on and on about his attachment to me, that I should be pleased to have a mate that cared about me so much. I always nodded wryly; they hadn't noticed that he only ever looked on the kits, and never me.
What's that, you ask? Why did I stay with him, even after that?
I'll admit it was clear at that point that I would never mean as much to him as he meant to me. And sometimes I saw a glimpse of the storm that was coming. But I tried my most stubborn best to ignore it. I thought that, underneath it all, the dedicated young Tigerclaw I knew was still there. I knew that, in his mind, he was still doing what was best for ThunderClan.
I wasn't wrong, despite what you might think. He was ambitious, yes – too willing to go too far – and he was selfish, to some degree. But, at least in the beginning, he never wanted to hurt ThunderClan. His view of the world was just distorted, like he was trying to look through the water to the bottom of the river.
Mind you, a very murky river.
I met him while out hunting some time after he left ThunderClan. We stared at each other for the longest time, until finally he meowed something. "You're not afraid," he had said.
I shook my head and asked him if I should have been.
His fur bristled at that. I thought maybe he had forgotten who I was. I looked at him sadly, ashamed of what he had become. I knew then that he wasn't the cat I knew anymore. He wasn't that cat at all. His last shred of reality had left him.
"Remember when you left?" I had said then. "How you asked Darkstripe and Longtail and Dustpelt to come with you? You didn't ask me."
He narrowed his eyes at me and cocked one ear back, unsure. I sighed and went on, "I would have said yes."
His eyes widened and, for a moment, I thought I might have gotten through to him. I thought that maybe – just maybe – there was a tiny glimmer of regret in his eyes. Regret, but not remorse.
"Then say yes now," he said after that. He went on to tell me he had plans…and followers to make them happen. There was a strange hunger in his eyes then – something I hadn't seen before. He and I no longer had the same motives.
My next words were the last I ever said to him, and I remember them well.
I just shook my head. "I would have gone with you then, but not now. Not after seeing what you've become," I said. His expression changed then, his eyes burning with frustration, but he ran away before I could say anything more.
I knew then that he was too far gone. His mind had come apart too far. He was too focused on being a leader to see that he was self-destructing and hurting the cats he had tried so hard to protect.
But I never gave up, not for a moment. I always held onto the hope that, by some miracle of StarClan, he would come to his senses.
I never forgave him for what he had done – how could I? But I stayed loyal to his memory, because I knew what he should have been.
He should have been a hero.
No other cat ever knew that I still loved him, even after knowing all he had done. I can't really explain why I did, either. It was an underlying compulsion. I was just as obsessed as he was, it would seem.
…of course, all of this taken into consideration, we go back to my initial thoughts.
I'm not proud of some of the things I did. But, in the end, I was a good warrior and I've earned my place here in StarClan. And why? Why am I any better than Tigerclaw?
I was every bit as ambitious as Tigerclaw was, but I knew when to stop, and that is what makes me more of a warrior than he ever was.
It was my devotion…my overwhelming love for ThunderClan that gave me the willingness to do whatever was best for my Clanmates, even if it wasn't the best for me.
In the end, it is not teeth and claws, but rather the capacity of our hearts that make us true warriors.
A/N: I hope it's obvious that the speaker is Goldenflower, and that she is talking to another StarClan cat. I'm not completely happy with how this turned out, and I might still edit it more later on, but for now…please review. Thanks.
