Written for a challenge issued at The Miscellany. To meet the requirements, the oneshot has to be over 1,000 words and less than 3,100 words. It also has to mention "strong wind" and "S/He couldn't believe her/his eyes" in it somewhere.

Takes place in Darkest Hour while Firestar speaks with Sandstorm for the first time after becoming a leader.

REVISED: 7/8/10

She couldn't believe her eyes.

There he was, standing so close to Sandstorm that it made her head swim and her heart sink slowly. He was meowing to the warrior in that quiet, deep voice so full of passion and conviction. He had a very compelling, intense voice, one that could convince you to do anything he wanted. So it seemed to her, at least.

Why are you so upset? she asked herself when she continued to stare at the two cats, as unsympathetic and accusing as she knew Yellowfang would have sounded. You knew he loved Sandstorm, and you knew she reciprocated—for StarClan's sake, you were the one who told him that Sandstorm liked him as more than just a friend! So why are you shocked now? You knew very well that it would happen…

Her heart began to drown at a faster rate as she heard snatches of their conversation: "You're closer to Cinderpelt now than anyone else…" A feminine voice: clearly it belonged to Sandstorm. The soot-gray medicine cat flexed her claws and scored them into the ground, pretending that it was the pale ginger she-cat's pelt. Oh, how she wished it was.

"Cinderpelt's our medicine cat… one of the best friends I have. But she's not you, Sandstorm… we'll be able to go out on patrol together, just like we used to…"

A short breath hitched sharply in her throat at that, and she could hardly keep from crying out. The medicine cat turned abruptly and limped off as quickly as she could into the forest, fueled by the anguish that had pooled up in her. Old wounds had been ripped open right down to the bone from overhearing that exchange, and now she just wanted to get away from the rest of the Clan—from everyone—and howl like a kit who'd lost its mother.

She hardly felt the pain of the tree branches and shrubs scratching at her face as she pushed past them to reach the place where she was going. The location of said place, exactly, she didn't know. All she wanted was to flee from the pain of seeing Firestar and his mate together.

"It should be me!" she cried, her smoke-colored fur bristling out as she continued to shove through the obstacles that cluttered her path. Whywhywhy couldn't she do that with the obstructions barring her way to Firestar? Why couldn't she ram through all of those petty impediments that blocked them from being mates?

It's because of Tigerstar, a voice whispered in her mind. Tigerstar set the trap that nearly killed me, all those moons ago. And because my leg was injured, I became a medicine cat and lost my opportunity to be with Firestar. But still—why can't I be the one who curls up with Firestar in his den, who twines my tail with his, whose ear he whispers sweet nothings into? Why can't I be with the cat I want to be with? Why? Why? Why?

At last she stopped and threw herself down on the ground, body convulsing as she let out small keens of agony. It… it wasn't fair. Why hadn't she told Firestar that she loved him sooner? Then perhaps she wouldn't have had to become a medicine cat, and she could have been a nursery queen bearing his kits. But destiny was cruel to her: StarClan hated her and wanted to torture her until she cracked and lost her sanity. Why did they despise her with such a burning passion? What had she done to deserve this fate?

She hadn't meant to love him. At first, he had been just some kittypet whom Bluestar had invited into the Clan when she was a kit curled into her mother's warm body. She hadn't understood this decision; why was a leader as brave and wise as Bluestar willing to allow a cat like that join ThunderClan? Wouldn't it taint their noble heritage? He was just some spoiled kittypet accustomed to softness, after all.

But then paws had snatched her away: smelly, massive paws as dark as the night. They had tried and failed once, and then they had succeeded the second time. Her mother later told her that it had been Blackfoot, the deputy of ShadowClan. She remembered asking the black-pawed cat if he wanted to play with her and her brother—and he had smacked her, snarling, "Shut up, vermin."

Stunned, she had started to scream for Frostfur, but this had only earned her more blows and insults. Dazedness and despair had finally blackened her vision—when suddenly, a blaze of red lit it up again. A flash of fire. After that, she had shed her contempt towards him and allowed respect instead to take its place.

After the Thunderpath incident, she had once again begun to view him differently. She had been moping around with nothing to do and practically no hope of survival when suddenly he padded into the medicine cat's den. He had meowed words of encouragement to her, asking if she'd be all right at the risk of getting his head snapped off by Yellowfang. His kindness and worried had touched her.

And from that day on, she'd started to notice things about him. Like the way his fur was groomed neatly, shimmering like a leap of flame; the way he always smelled faintly of leaves and squirrels, of fresh-kill and the forest and warmth; the way his husky voice rang in her ears when he was talking to her…

But she had been desperately stubborn, refused to admit even to herself that she liked him. And due to her folly, he had ended up with another she-cat: Sandstorm.

A snarl rumbled out of her throat. What right did Sandstorm have to barge in and take up with her tom? Hadn't Dustpelt been padding after the light-furred she-cat? Why didn't Sandstorm mate with Dustpelt instead of Firestar?

Firestar, she moaned to herself. I lost my chance to be with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid she-cat. Her one shot at a future with Firestar, involving several kits and a leader to carry on their father's legacy, had been ruined. Blown away like ashes in a strong wind—like cinders in a blast of strong wind.

And the only thing left after the gale had passed was her duty to her Clan. Nothing else remained for it.

She closed her eyes again, still trembling with the grief of a shattered heart, before sighing dejectedly and squaring her shoulders. It was time to head back to camp. Now she could only fulfill her responsibilities as a medicine cat and try to avoid the sickening couple at all costs. Put on a strong front and pretend that they didn't affect her, didn't bother her in the slightest. Act as though she didn't care, didn't envy Sandstorm, didn't love Firestar the way she did.

The worst way to love someone is to be near him, be so close you can reach out and touch him, and know that he doesn't love you back.

7/8/10: So. Uhm. I just reread this whole thing and kind of shuddered because seriously, it wasn't very good. I wasn't very good. xDDD But I cleaned it up a little bit, made it less cluttered and hard to read, improved the grammar and syntax just a smidge. And hopefully it's better for that, although it could still be much, much better.

But whatever; I'm too lazy anyway. :P I hope you enjoyed this piece of cheesy angst regardless, because who doesn't love one-sided Fire x Cinder?