You'd think she was beautiful. Her looks are captivating. She was as swift as the wind, gentle as the placid lake, and strong as fire. And when a sound escaped her throat, even her prey would stop to listen. Pity, the voice was lost. She wouldn't make a sound. Because of the accident, no cat would ever have the pleasure of hearing her sweet voice again.

But though she wouldn't speak, she cried. And her tears reflected the torture she had always felt.

Her name began as Skykit, and she has quite a story to tell.

I let out a steady, rumbling purr as my mother licked the top of my head with the utmost gentleness. Dawnshade's dark red fur was thick and sleek, softly brushing against my own very pale blue-silver fur, that glowed in the sunlight.

My name is Skykit, and I am four moons old.

Along with my brother, Oakkit.

I pad out of the ThunderClan nursery, my brilliant blue eyes catching the sunlight and reflecting it back to the ThunderClan camp. My mother says I have a radiant appearance, and so do multiple other cats in my clan. But my appearance is not as radiant as it could be. If you look closely, you can see a faint glimmer of sadness in the depths of my blue eyes.

I used to be brighter, more beautiful, when I was barely a newborn kit.

But that was before Sootstream had died.

Sootstream had been a dark gray she-cat with blue eyes that had always smoldered with gentleness. She had always been welcoming and kind to me, and then, she had died. Not just died, as any other cat might.

She had died for me.

I clearly remember the day. I was only three moons old at the time, and Oakkit and I were play-fighting near the warriors' den. And Oakkit had suddenly decided that he needed some fresh-kill, so I had waited for him in the center of the clearing. I had just been sitting in the tall grass, the moist air cool and sweet against my face. My blue-silver fur had been glimmering in the sunlight, until a dark shadow fell over me.

The next thing I remember is that many cats were yowling, raising their voices in a screech of fear.

I assumed that the shadow was one of the warriors, so I continued to paw at the soft grass.

But then, I knew something was wrong.

Dawnshade was hurtling toward me, but Sootstream reached me before her. And then I realized that the shadow couldn't be a cat's shadow. It was a bird's. A giant bird circled lazily overhead, and for a heartbeat, it's amber gaze met my blue one, until I tore mine away. I was frozen in fear as Sootstream launched herself into the air, her claws unsheathed.

I remember the bird, swooping toward me, talons outstretched.

But when Sootstream attacked, it took her instead.

And I had never seen the dark gray she-cat again. She had died for me, and in the two or three days that directly succeeded that one, I had almost wished that the bird - I figured that it was a hawk - had taken me instead.

Now, the memory isn't as hard on me as it uesd to be a moon ago, but I know I will never forget the day. They say she died the death of an honorable warrior, saving the life of a kit. But even if that is true, I know I will never forget her.

Oh, Sootstream.

I pad after Oakkit, who flicked his tail and shook his dark reddish-brown tabby coat out, his clear amber eyes glimmering with concern. "Are you thinking about Sootstream, again?"

I suppress a purr. He knew me only too well, and I couldn't have a better friend. I nod to him, still thinking about the pretty, young she-cat.

"Skykit, it wasn't your fault," Oakkit mewed, with the faintest touch of exasperation in his voice. "Any cat would have done the same, and when you become a warrior, you might do something like that for a different kit."

I look at him, my long, plumy tail low. "Since when did you get so smart?"

Oakkit shrugged. "Skykit, you're a wonderful cat. You shouldn't blame yourself if someone dies for you! They care, and that's why they would do it!" He lowered his voice a little. "I would die for you, sister."

I shoot him a glare, only half-joking as I reply. "Don't you dare."

Oakkit's long tail swept across my back in a brief gesture of affection. "Don't worry; I don't plan on joining StarClan anytime soon." I let out a soft purr that faintly rustles the grass, and I touch noses to my littermate, my blue eyes glimmering. He really knew how to convince me.

"You're the best littermate a cat could have," I mew quietly.

Oakkit purred. "No matter what happens, I'll always be there for you." For a few heartbeats, the two of us silently enjoy each other's company, our pelts brushing with affection. My ear twitches, and my tail touches my littermate's cheek for a heartbeat, then whisks away, and my pale blue-silver fur shimmers in the sunlight.

I've been called beautiful by many cats, not just my mother. But I've never really thought of myself as outstandingly pretty before.

"All right, let's play warriors!" Oakkit suggests, his amber eyes shining playfully. He springs forward, claws sheathed, his soft paws battering my underbelly. I scramble backwards, then leap, forcing his head to the ground. From there, I clamber onto his back and hold him down triumphantly.

Heartbeats later, I find myself in the midst of a bramble bush.

I try to wriggle free of the thorns, then let out a wail as the brambles snag my soft fur. Oakkit pads closer, then takes my scruff in his jaws. His legs shaking with the effort, he drags me out, and I dip my head in thanks before bending my head to free my fur of the brambles. "Sorry," Oakkit mutters, though the gleam of amusement has not left his eyes at all.

"Never mind," I reply, and my voice blends smoothly with the whispers of the wind.

This time, I pounce first, but Oakkit dodges to one side. I duck under him and throw him onto his back, but he rolls over quickly and swipes at my face. His red-brown fur presses against mine as he bowls me over, but I slide out from under him, then gently nip the tip of his left ear before pinning him down with a triumphant yowl.

Oakkit scrambles to his paws, shaking grass from his thick fur. "You fight well!"

"So do you!" I reply cheerfully, flicking my feathery tail.

And somehow, I have forgotten about Sootstream, though the faint outline of memory is ingrained in my mind.