This is my first FroggyClan challenge, for the December contest! Please read and review!
"The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us. "
She couldn't explain it.
Why did she feel that way?
As a kit, she was certain she'd hated him. She had never forgiven him for all the things he'd done to her-purposely dropping his fresh-kill on her, putting musty bedding in the part of the nest she slept in, whacking her with his tail, messing up her games-generally teasing her past bearing. She had even promised herself that she would outshine him in her apprenticeship, to show him what she was made of. She wouldn't be seen as Frostkit, the tiny kit that he had picked on, she would be Frostpaw, the amazing, talented apprentice.
But as she worked in her apprenticeship, even as her fighting skills became outstanding and she turned into one of the best hunters in the Clan, her fierce passion seemed to fade. Somehow, all the hard work she had put in, relentless attempts to master skills, had worked it out. The grudge she held against Smokepaw since she was a kit disappeared within moons, no matter how carefully she attempted to rekindle the embers of her burning hate.
She was forced to admit that her loathing of that infernal apprentice was fast transforming into an unknown feeling. Admiration, maybe?
Frostpaw started to notice some changes in Smokepaw. He was constantly hanging around wherever she was sitting, harboring a nervous look on his face. He spent more time grooming his pelt, and hardly ever came out of the apprentices' den without his smoky gray fur sleek and shiny. He stuttered when he tried to talk to her and looked sad and hurt when she shunned him.
Frostpaw's friends teased her, saying that Smokepaw liked her, joking that she already had a future mate all set. Frostpaw responded to them with scorn, saying she hated him and always would.
But now she knew that that was definitely not true.
Now her eyes were drawn to his thick pelt, his deep blue eyes, the way his muscles rippled under his fur. She saw for the first time, as if a fog had been lifted, how kind he tried to be to her, how caring and dedicated he was to the elders and queens, what a skilled hunter and fighter he was.
She knew she was falling for him, and fast.
Of course, you never know what you have until you lose it.
When the first kits died of hunger, Frostpaw grieved with the rest of the Clan. Soon it became apparent to her that the Twolegs were destroying her beloved home, as much as she tried to deny the evidence staring her in the face. Her Clan, dying and sick, would be stranded in the middle of leafbare, with nowhere to go and nothing to eat.
She was so frightened, she even forgot her old hate of Smokepaw, and clung to him, finding a loyal friend in her past enemy.
She soon realized that Smokepaw was strong, generous, hardworking, perfect-and that he did indeed have a heart of gold.
He would give up his daily rations of prey often to give to the queens and kits, to the elders, or to Frostpaw. No matter how much she protested, he made her eat a double share of the frog that should have fed three apprentices for a day. He went hunting from dawn to dusk, occasionally even to the Carrionplace, in the hopes that his patrol could bring back a couple of rats to share. He always came back with a little prey to feed the Clan.
The new side of Smokepaw that Frostpaw hadn't seen before made her wonder what else her kit-like grudges had caused her to miss.
Then came the news that they would have to leave the forest. By this time, the Clan was practically numb from hunger and fear. The wild dash out of the camp, the long trek to Highstones, and the start of the journey beyond, passed by in a blur.
During those two days, the only moment that stayed in her memory was the moment when Smokepaw confessed to her that he loved her.
Love. That was the feeling that had replaced her hatred of Smokepaw, the one that had kept her strong through the hard times. The one she could never name, but knew very well, like a close friend.
She told him she loved him too, and for a wonderful short time, they were in a blissful world where no one and nothing could disturb them, before it was shattered beyond recognition.
The day Smokepaw died was forever imprinted in Frostpaw's memory. She was walking a few cats behind him in the line, filing up the mountain, when the rocks that Smokepaw was standing on gave way. One moment he was on solid ground, the next he was scrabbling desperately at the edge of the cliff. Russetfur attempted to haul him to safety, but she was forced to leap back and save herself as the stones tumbled down into empty air-taking Smokepaw too.
One horrible, heart-wrenching moment, and the tom Frostpaw loved was gone forever.
With him disappeared the future that they would have had together-getting their warrior names together, becoming official mates, raising a family in a time and place where the hunger of the old forest was nothing but a memory.
Any happiness Frostpaw had at that second disappeared too. She let out a heartbroken, grief-filled wail, which echoed around the cliffs as Smokepaw plunged to his death. She had the awful sensation that she would never be truly happy without him.
The rest of the Great Journey seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. She traveled with her Clan to the land past the mountains, explored her new home with the rest of the Clan, and settled down permanently to live out the rest of her life.
Moons passed. Frostpaw was named Frostwing and sat her warrior vigil like any other cat. Gradually, her sorrow mellowed down a little, enough for her to feel emotions beyond grief. She learned to laugh again, to enjoy herself again, to make friends, to be something other than an empty shell.
But the pain of Smokepaw's death was always there, like a constant bellyache that no herb could ever treat.
The day after her vigil, she slipped out of camp to a small corner she called her own. It was a small clump of ferns, growing by a stream that bubbled happily over stones, winding along a path through the forest.
Frostwing liked to think that Smokepaw was as fond of that place as she was, even in StarClan, and that he could watch over her there while she sat and thought quietly.
It was here that she found that not all was lost, that her destiny still lay before her.
That she still had the ability to live, and laugh, and love.
"I thought all the happiness had disappeared from me when you died. But now I know it didn't. I still have my whole life ahead of me, and I promise I won't waste it. Guide my pawsteps, please, until I leave this life behind and become one with the warriors in the stars. If you're there, Smokepaw, I love you."
*sniffle* So sad...
I thought of this idea when I was reading the challenge in FroggyClan. I was wondering if Smokepaw, the apprentice who died on the Great Journey, had ever fallen in love, and how she might have felt when he died. And then this story came along!
Please, please, please review!
