Sometimes I get annoyed with the books for not bringing up connections between cats when it would make sense to do so. Here's just a collection of my take on moments that should have happened, or at least been mentioned

"We're not going with the Clan."

"Speckletail and I are too old for so much change. We'd rather die here beneath Silverpelt knowing StarClan waits for us."

"I cannot force you to come with us…I know your paws are weary and you already hear StarClan whispering to you…"


As the elderly white she-cat watched her leader pad off, she knew she was making the right decision. Her matted fur, a far cry from the glossy shine it once held, did nothing to hide her bones poking out from every inch of her aging body. Hunger and cold left her weak and slow, every paw-step brought pain, and her senses had long lost their edge. Unable to hunt or move fast, she would be a burden that ThunderClan could not afford to carry on their journey.

'Do you do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?'

The oath that every cat took upon becoming a warrior echoed across Frostfur's mind; the oath that she, like many others, had taken long ago. She was no fool, she knew that she and the others would not survive long after the Clans had left. Her death was not many moons away, of that she was certain; but if her sacrifice helped her Clan spend more energy on reaching their new home instead of wasting even the tiniest bit looking after her, then she had done her duty.

She briefly thought of her sister, Brindleface, and her mentor, Bluestar. Both had lived in this forest, both had died here and joined the ranks of StarClan. If it meant seeing familiar faces again, dying didn't seem so bad. She could face it.

There was only one regret.

"Frostfur," Brackenfur, her son, stood before her, grief shining in his eyes, "are you sure about this?" Next to him were his siblings: Cinderpelt, Thornclaw, and Brightheart, all echoing similar murmurs of confusion and sorrow.

My kits, Oh my kits!

The elderly she-cat could not suppress a choked purr as she gazed at the medicine-cat and warriors before her. How far they had all come from the nursery, and yet she could still see them as tiny little bundles of fur mewling as they nuzzled against her belly for milk.

She recalled the day they were stolen from her, her beautiful kits taken away by a ShadowClan warrior under orders of the evil Brokenstar. Words could not express the horror and grief she had felt that day; her precious kits meant everything to her and she didn't know how she could face another day if they had perished. She wailed every prayer she knew to StarClan to bring them home, and nearly fell to pieces with relief when the rescue party led by Firepaw brought them back to the ThunderClan camp, but that had not been the end of suffering for her children.

Brackenfur, oh brave Brackenfur. The handsome tom stood before her, the first of her litter to receive his warrior name. Frostfur recalled how proud she was the day he was apprenticed, and even more so after he defended the camp from invaders who had attacked ThunderClan for sheltering Brokentail. Though he had been kidnapped by the very cat his clan was harboring, Brackenfur still stood by his Clan that day and earned his name. He'd been an exemplary warrior every day since, and Frostfur knew that his father would be just as proud of the tom as she.

Cinderpelt… The elderly she-cat's gaze drifted towards her daughter, ThunderClan's medicine cat. Frostfur's worst nightmare had almost come true the day they brought her daughter home crippled from the Thunderpath. The once energetic and joyful apprentice lay on the brink of death. Her mother recalled the days she spent fearfully grieving for the little she-cat once again praying fervently to StarClan. Her prayers answered, Cinderpaw had survived and though her leg prevented her from becoming a warrior, she still found a way to serve her clan. Healing them and guiding them through dreams, Cinderpelt was one of the most important cats in the forest.

Oh, Brightheart…As if nearly losing one daughter to tragedy wasn't bad enough, Frostfur found herself yet again grieving and begging StarClan for her kit's survival. The kindest cat in the clan, Brightpaw had only gone to face the dog pack so that Swiftpaw would not go alone. No cat would ever know the horrors that the she-cat had faced, but Brightheart's mangled face would be a reminder forever of Swiftpaw's brutal death and the horrors that the pack had wreaked on ThunderClan. Even so, the she-cat never lost her kindness or cheery attitude, and survived on to mother her own kit Whitepaw.

Thornclaw…The young tom, just as handsome as his brother had waited for his warrior name for far longer than he should have. Proving himself again and again, even while watching his sisters suffer, Frostfur remembered her fury that her own former mentor Bluestar refused to name the skilled and patient cat that deserved it. The first warrior to be named by Firestar, Thornclaw fought well in the battle against BloodClan and continued to serve his clan with courage.

Her four wonderful kits. Frostfur was overcome by love as she gazed at the adult cats that stood before her.

How can I bear to be parted from them? But she knew she had to. Her children were grown, they no longer needed her anymore. These cats would live to see the future of ThunderClan. Just as she knew she would die to protect them the moment she first laid eyes on them, she knew that she would do just that for them now. Her sacrifice would give them a chance to make it to their new home, she was ready to give them everything.

"My kits," she said, voice cracking with age, "You all have suffered through so much already." Her tail brushed gently against each of their shoulders, "But you have persevered. I do not know what awaits you on your journey, but I know that you can make it. I've lived my life, I refuse to hold anyone back for my sake, but you are still so young. You will survive, and you will help Firestar take care of ThunderClan."

"We will," Thornclaw murmured, bowing his head.

"We will," Brightheart echoed, voice choking in grief. Brackenfur seemed at a loss for words, and Cinderpelt gave her mother a sad but knowing gaze.

"No mother could ever ask for better kits. I am so proud of you, each of you, and when I am with StarClan I shall watch over you for all of your days."

"StarClan shall be glad to have you," Cinderpelt whispered and pressed her nose to her mother's fur. The others followed suit, and for the last time the five of them stood together, kits wreathed in their mother's scent and love.

The moment ended too soon, and before she knew it they had to say goodbye. Frostfur watched as her Clan and her kits left, leaving her behind to face the end of her days. As she turned to go with Speckletail and the RiverClan elders to sit vigil for Mudfur she sent up one more prayer.

StarClan, protect my kits and lead them to safety!