Diurnal

I love the wind in my fur as I run. I love WindClan, greatest of the four Clans of the forest. I love Breezepaw, my dear son. And I don't know whether I love Crowfeather more or less than any of those.

You see, it was never presented to me as love. I'd give Crowfeather an air of respectability by giving him a WindClan mate, and he'd give me an air of status by giving me the descendant of Windstar as a mate. Then, that was the deal, beginning to end, no catches, no emotion. Now, it's gotten a lot more complex.

When I accepted his offer, I'd have thought any jealousy over Leafpool would be simply the same sort of jealousy I'd have if she were stealing my prey. But it isn't. It's the jealousy of a cheated lover.

When did I fall in love with Crowfeather?

Now, let's get this straight. Crowfeather is a scrawny piece of fur with the beauty of a dead fox and the temper of one-legged badger. He's more possessive, arrogant, sharp-tongued, and mouse-brained than any cat I've ever seen.

When I said this to a friend, she suggested I look in a puddle. What's that supposed to mean, then? Aw, shut up. What would you know about it?

I know Crowfeather will never love me back. I'm not certain I want him to. After all, crows can't see at night.

But if I ever catch him with Leafpool, I'll claw their fur off.