Hello all! I'm Heterica! This is my first story in a few months, so here we go. On Fanfiction, my song is ending as I reach for my 19th month here! I just love it when you review, so please do. Thanks, Signed, Heterica Derpington

As I awoke, I could not see. The glare of the blazing, fiery sun was blocking it. As I looked around, I remembered where I was. It was my home, ThunderClan. Where else would I be? Yet, strangely, I felt a calling elsewhere. It was a longing, as two lovers, separated cannot help but wonder, wait, and hope.

My home felt alien, unknown, shallow. I felt a deeper life calling. I heard a whisper, too difficult to hear all of it: "farewell… shall… sleep..."

I finally shook off the cold, and went to get some fresh kill. Somehow, I was still off a bit, but I could manage. I ate the shrew.

How long did I have left on this world. How long then, would I last before I would fade from the memories of the eldest elders, how long before there would be a void?

The years would fly by. I could be happy now, but never forever. Happiness is a vanity. Here today, gone tomorrow, as vapors and green-leaf.

This was all very depressing. I shook it off and decided to make up for my meal with twice the share.

Normally, I love hunting. Hunting is what I adore. I'm a natural. My claws are sharp, and my feet are light. I caught something. Then, I realized: accomplishment is a vanity.

A kit will open his eyes, and soon, it will happen every moment, and it's wonder will flee from him. He will learn to hunt, and when he catches a rabbit, he catches a dozen the next moon. He shall then have a kit. He will have 3 more, and they will have them. He will advance, and it will all be wasted upon his entry of the elder's den.

I catch a hare. It looks at me with the deadness in it's eyes and I shudder. This could be me to a fox, and so with the fox to a wolf, and so with a wolf to a bear, and so to a bear twolegs, and so to twolegs dust. I thank StarClan with half a heart. If StarClan is up there, why should this be so. Should not twolegs and ourselves never cease to live in harmony, that we should have no strife? If StarClan cannot destroy death, who created it? If not StarClan, who can?

I feel as if the answer lies across a gorge, and it is impossible to cross. If I fly across, if I can, I will lose myself to it, and if it is nothing, on what shall I stand? Then again, if now I stand on StarClan, and they stand on nothing, then what shall happen? Will they not fall down? If they are themselves susceptible to oblivion, what shall keep my self from it?

I realize that whatever took me from my clan has freed me. But, freedom is not free. All of it comes at an unbearable cost, and how shall I then live? Freedom is pain, and ignorance oblivion. Cursed is the day that I was born. May I have been stillborn, never to see day's light.

I now have no clue what choice I shall make. Shall I warn them of the oblivion, or shun them from the light, the searing light, the burning heat of sun. I must make the choice, the voice tells me, or I will be torn apart, shattered as by a bolt of lightning.

I can't sleep. I'm too conscious. What will my choice be? Will I go through the motions, or risk pain for those I love. I do not know. Please, someone help me. I'm so very cold.

And this night as I lay awake, I pray that StarClan my soul may take.

For even if I should gain flight, it shall be lost to the night.

Hope you liked it, Heterica.