A/N: Yes, I know it's short, but I wanted it to be a bit like a poem, and it's all I could think of. Speaking of poems...
It was the first day of October
In two thousand and thirteen
When they told us
That part of the government had shut down
There wasn't any stampedes of terror
Or any rages
Just plain, old shock
When we realized that part of the goverment had shut down for a while
Some of us thought
That today was historic
Some of us disagreed
But we all thought that it was important
All of this,
Some people not getting paid when they work,
Because the government couldn't
Pass the budget
It was the first day of October
In two thousand and thirteen
When they told us
That part of the government had shut down
Now, to the story!
Snowfur paused.
It could not be.
But it was true.
Her mate – no, her former mate – had finished sending off one of the cats in StarClan. And somehow, she found her paws heading toward him. She couldn't help it.
Thisleclaw paused.
He had seen his mate – former mate, he told himself – coming toward him. So he went to her. They met under an abandoned bush that no one was paying much antention to.
Snowfur was the first the break the silence.
"Shouldn't you be somewhere off causing mayhem?"
"But I had to talk to you."
"We're not mates anymore," Snowfur retoted, even though every fibre of her wanted that to be a lie.
"Snowfur, what's going–"
Whitestorm, from somewhere in the new ThunderClan camp, had decided that now was the time to talk with his mother, if only briefly.
Then he saw his father.
"Thisleclaw?"
The cat who had helped him to learn how to fight, when he was a kit, turned around.
"Yes…Whitestorm!?" Thisleclaw meowed. His son, the cat he had watched grow up, was right in front of him.
And he was looking back with curiousity. Not joy, not hate, not saddness.
Simply curiousity.
"You…you…," Whitestorm stammered, and reached out and sniffed Thisleclaw's pelt. He sniffed harder. His eyes wided.
"I found you!"
Snowfur just blinked.
A nevous feeling settled in Thisleclaw's belly suddednly. And he never got nevous.
"Can you forgive me?" He meowed to them. To his family.
"Why?" Snowfur asked, her head tilted.
"I need you to. When I go back…we won't be able to talk."
Whitestorm looked at his father. "You did try to raise me, even if you sometimes pushed to hard, but you are still my father. How can I not say yes?"
Thisleclaw looked at Snowfur, who, he realized, was still his mate, somehow. Even after all these seasons.
And she realized it too.
* * *
Bluestar had finished sending off a Dark Forest tom, when her eyes landed on Snowfur and Whitestorm. They were next to Thisleclaw. Talking to him.
Faintly, Bluestar could hear Thisleclaw ask them to forgive him.
Whitestorm said yes.
Bluestar waited, holding her breath, for Snowfur's reply.
"…somehow, I still love you. I don't know why, but I still do. I forgive you, Thisleclaw."
As Bluestar watched Thisleclaw touch noses with his family, then leave, she felt a small flower of pity blossom in her heart.
Everyone needed their family at some point. Even if they were an arrogant, Dark Forest tom.