An ice-broken heart
"How can this be?" I whispered under my breath. Leaf-bear was here, no drought about that. With sparkling snow glittering in the ground and the bark of bare trees everywhere you turned made the lands where my Clanmates call home seem like a safe, peaceful wonderland. The world was quite and the aroma of the icy world danced in the claw-cutting cold winds. The howls of the breeze sang in a soothing melody as it ruffled my sandy-colored fur. I looked up into the tree tops, the little peeks of the light beamed its way down, giving the frozen-forest life.
Even with such a lovely surrounding, my heart was like ice, frozen just like the river that bordered ThunderClan and RiverClan. With the lightest amount of presser my ice-heart would be broken beneath the paws of a warrior. With my soul so cold, I thought I could just die in the coffin of countless snowflakes as they fall from the sky.
The only cat I ever wanted to sleep by ever night, ever wanted to share tongues everyday with tell my death, the only she-cat I ever wanted to call my mate is pregnant with another tom's kits. What hurts even more, I don't even know their father, I won't ask, I want to so badly to know, but it's not my place to ask. After a deep breath, I thought, who could they belong too? I know the father isn't of ThunderClan blood, Bluefur never demonstrated any feelings to any toms within ThunderClan and she wouldn't be hinding the tom's name. He was pretending to be Bluefur's name. I loved her and would do anything for her. Her mate must be outside the border. Then I gave a puzzled look, Bluefur isn't the type of cat to break our beloved Warrior Code. Would she? Sighing I tried to push it into the back of my mind, but the thought came back, all the same, Father is of ShadowClan? No, that's just sick, ShadowClan is just nasty. RiverClan? What would she see in those rock-steeling no good fish eater? WindClan? Well, the're the only Clan not causing problems. What if her kits are half-kittypet? Well, I whet on, coming out with crazy ideas like the kit's father being a rouge or a loner or something under those lines.
Sunning Rocks, the small chunk of land both ThunderClan and RiverClan fought thunders of battles for. Too much blood of prized warriors has been lost here. With my head on my paws I let out a soft sigh, the scent of the rotten fish-aroma of RiverClan and the pine-fresh sent of ThunderClan intermingled. Looking back at my homeland, I smiled. Something about the sound of the water made me think of Bluefur. Then again, everything makes me think of her. Even when she was a kit, she was perfect. Then, she grew up into a fine, young warrior. "Well, whoever that tom is, I hope he's treating her right. He better be proud of his kits too. I know, if I was him, I would," Thankful no one could hear me, I mumbled to myself.
Due to the short leaf-bare days, I got out of my make-sniff snow nest and walked back to camp. Knowing the Clan needed food, I opened my jaws to see if any fresh fragrances of pry would knock on the roof of my mouth. When I thought the area was empty, a small squirrel poked his head out of the ground. With no time to lose, I chased the skinny animal. The next think I knew my claws were deep into its belly fur, the scent of blood washed over me like new-leaf rain. As the boney animal cried in pain, I gave away a clean bit. "Hope you like this Bluefur. Our – your kit's need it." The words where bitter and tasted sour in my jaws but I picked up the small fresh-kill and walked back over to the camp where the most lovely she-cat rested alongside three little miracles.