A soft breeze whistled through the looming trees, and branches swayed. Above, in the black indigo sky, the bright stars of Silverpelt glimmered. Waves washed ashore gently, and the silhouette of a fluffy, tangle-furred cream-colored she-cat with ginger patches sat peacefully looking up at the stars, seeking guidance.
"Please, Starclan…Show me the right path to choose." She whispered, and shut her eyes. The she-cat snarled in fury as a scene refolded again and again in her mind, teasing her.
He's moved on, you foolish she-cat. He's forgotten you. The warrior code was made for a reason!
"Stop it!" she pleaded, swiping at her own head with her paws.
The scene replayed again, but this time she stopped to listen to it.
A muscular white tom with pale brown tabby splotches faced off the same fluffy, tangle-furred cream-colored she-cat with ginger patches.
"Look, Tanglefur. I love you, but our clans are going to find out and…" The tom meowed, trailing off.
"And what, Branchfur?" the she-cat's voice was hoarse and unbelieving. "For starclan's sake, I'm expecting your kits!" Tanglefur snarled, her green eyes blazing.
Branchfur stared at his paws, but when he looked up; his amber eyes were hard and emotionless. "Your kits deserve a better father." With that, the white tom turned away and bounded across the border, his head lowered with shame and guilt. "I'm sorry, Tanglefur." As he walked away, Branchfur left behind a shattered she-cat.
Tanglefur stared, her green gaze blank. She collapsed on the hard ground and a heart-wrenching tore from her throat.
After that fateful night, Branchfur had crossed the land, his heart as heavy as his paws. He had stopped when he heard Tanglefur's dreadful cry, and that had been enough to nearly make him run back to the cream-colored she-cat and comfort her, bring her to his clan and be forever happy. With a heavy heart, he had entered his camp and was greeted by Whitetail, the she-cat who had a crush on him.
"Branchfur!" she scolded as she had finished covering him with licks. "Where have you been?"
The white tom had all but wanted to screech out to the whole clan; I love a she-cat from Riverclan, she's expecting my kits and I don't want to be mates with Whitetail!
Turning to the lean tortoiseshell she-cat he had muttered, "I'm fine. Just a walk." He had just about wanted to add; you're not my mate.
Whitetail had flinched slightly and then led him over to the fresh-kill pile. "Go on," she urged. "You must be hungry."
Branchfur sighed and picked out a thrush so Whitetail wouldn't make a fuss. He buried his teeth in the bird's flesh, and tore of a mouthful. He had suddenly found his appetite back and ravenously gulped down the meal, a faint glint beginning to shine in his dull amber gaze.
Whitetail had stood over him, her blue eyes sparkling, "So, um, Branchfur?"
Branchfur, knowing he had a decision to make, glanced up. "Will you be my mate?" he hesitated before asking. He knew he would never be able to get Tanglefur out of his head, but at least he would gain some trust from the cats around him and have a family that he had so wanted to have with Tanglefur.
The tortoiseshell she-cat had gasped and nodded frantically, joy shining in her blue gaze. "Oh, Branchfur!" she purred loudly. "I have hoped and hoped you would finally realize it." She nuzzled against him.
Branchfur had shifted, uncomfortable. He had only wanted his dear Tanglefur to do that, but oh well…as Whitetail's mate, she had the right to.
It went forward between them fast after that, and after a few moons the tortoiseshell she-cat was expecting his kits. Branchfur was happy, but he was yearning to see his and Tanglefur's kits more than ever. So the gathering was in two days, and he was going to talk to Tanglefur. He also knew to expect rejection and fury, because he had so cruelly left her to heal herself. Branchfur regretted it.
Finally, the night came. Branchfur trailed along after his clan, excitement and hope fizzing in his chest. As they reached the top of the hill, he sucked in a deep breath.
Windclan streamed down the hill, and Branchfur weaved through the crowd, seeking on particular she-cat. His gaze landed on a fluffy, cream-colored she-cat with ginger patches and leaf-green eyes.
"Tanglefur," he breathed. She was still beautiful, as always. He stiffened as the fluffy cream-furred she-cat glanced around, surprised.
"What are you doing here?" the she-cat's voice betrayed shock and surprise. Then her expression morphed into one of anger and fury. "How dare you show your face to me?" Tanglefur hissed, her fur bristling. Pain and rage blazed in her leaf-green eyes, and Branchfur took a cautious step back.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he faltered as Tanglefur's face twisted even more. "For leaving you like that." Summoning all courage he had, he blurted out "I was wrong, and I know it. The truth is that I still love you, no matter what." He glanced up at Tanglefur, relived when he saw no more anger in her eyes, or so he thought.
Branchfur yelped and leapt away as Tanglefur's paw came down and clouted him hard over his cheek, and he hissed. "What was that for?"
"You're lucky that's all I have in store for you." She retorted. "For now." She added.
The muscular white tom rubbed his cheek, still sore. "Humph…" he grumbled.
Rainstar's commanding yowl resounded the hollow for the gathering to start. Branchfur glanced up, surprised to see all four leaders seated patiently on the great sycamore oak.
Branchfur turned to Tanglefur, planning to ask her to sit with him. But to his disappointment, the cream-colored she-cat had vanished. His heart dropped down to his belly, and a great sigh attracted the attention of the cats around him.
Then Rabbitstar, Windclan's leader, rose to his paws. "I will start. Windclan has enjoyed this season, the rabbits are running well and no sickness has attacked our clan," the brown-and-white tom slid a side-ways glance at Branchfur, silently asking him if he wanted to share the news of Whitetail's pregnancy. The white tom shook his head decisively.
The Windclan leader sat back on his haunches, and nodded. "That is all."
Rainstar, Thunderclan's mighty leader, stood up. "Thunderclan is thriving, and prey is running well. One of our cats, Smokeheart is expecting Sabretooth's kits." The mottled pale grey-silver furred she-cat flicked her tail and dipped her head to Pikestar, Riverclan's leader.
The huge light-colored tabby spoke deeply. "All is well in Riverclan, too. No sickness attacked our clan, but we have two new warriors," he rumbled, "Riptide and Dawnleaf." He paused. "And one of our cats, Tanglefur has given birth to a fine litter of kits; Mintkit and Tansykit."
Branchfur gasped and sat back, joy dancing in his eyes; Tanglefur had given birth to his kits! His! This was marvelous. Immediately overjoyed, he turned to gaze at Tanglefur, which was licking her chest-fur proudly. Then he turned to see a sleek bright orange she-cat with cream paws and underbelly, while most likely her brother, a pale golden-brown tabby tom puffed out his chest proudly.
"Riptide! Dawnleaf!" the clans called out.
Finally, Shadowclan's to speak came. Their leader, Pinestar was a thick-furred dark brown she-cat with a white chest-fur, paws and underbelly rose. "Prey is running well here too. Though one of our elders, Kinkpelt, has passed away." A murmur of respect and grief rippled through the crowd, for Kinkpelt was a wise and kind cat, who helped many cats.
"And one of our warriors, Goldenflower has moved to the nursery expecting Berrystripe's kits." The handsome tabby puffed out his chest proudly.
After all news was shared, the clan cats began to mill and weave through each other, sharing their own news and for once, the tension and hatred between the clans slowly subsided. Branchfur looked desperately for Tanglefur, finally finding her crouched at the back of the clearing.
"Tanglefur!" he called, rushing over. "I can't believe it. Are Mintkit and Tansykit mine?" he pestered, excitement coursing through him, and Branchfur bounced up and down.
Tanglefur sighed and wearily glanced up at him. "Yes, you arrogant fox dung." She snarled in his face. "But they aren't actually yours now." She lashed her tail. "You disowned them, when you left me. You have no right to even call them yours!" she spat, her leaf-green eyes blazing.
Branchfur gaped, shocked. He regretted that night, but did she really hate him that much? "Oh Tanglefur," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you. I've always loved you, and I always will." The muscular white tom bowed down, the pale brown tabby splotches of his pelt rippling. "W-will you forgive me?" he asked softly.
Tanglefur's face sagged in exhaustion but surprise and doubt shone in her gaze. "Well if you really loved me, how could you just leave me like that? And you expect me to forgive you?"
Branchfur heaved a sigh and shook his head woefully. "No. I was only thinking of myself…how I would be disowned, how my clan would turn against me…and especially how I would never be treated of the courtesy of a warrior." His head drooped.
Tanglefur lashed her tail again, and hissed. "That's how it always will be, Branchfur. You thought for yourself that time, and you'll do it again," her eyes narrowed to slits. "And I think you've found yourself another mate, just to gain you some trust and reputation." She snarled softly.
Branchfur's amber eyes were wide with surprise. How had she known? Was his personality really that obvious to everyone? This was new to him. Whitetail adored him, she supported him, loved him, cared for him. And Branchfur hardly loved her back, though a slight blossom was exceeding. Had he really done that just for him? For him to thrive and be trusted…?
Tanglefur took in this moment of doubt as an answer, for she whipped around and marched out into the clearing, where the clans were just getting ready to leave.
Branchfur was left staring helplessly after her, and he felt his heart drop. Then determination flared in him. He would see his kits. He would sneak out tonight and meet his kits. They were his…rightfully his, no matter what Tanglefur said.