Flower is helping herself. She is now whipping her ass if she doesn't update. And so, to help her get into the rhythem, has decided to post a new story. Flower has no idea where the title came from but she likes it, and she likes the plot to this story. She also likes the name Snowfall. It is prettyful. And she likes reviews. Loves reviews. So, review, and make Flower happy. Because a happy Flower makes goodiful chapters.

Title: Shadow Dance

Author: If Love Were Flowers

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Snowfall of RiverClan only wishes to end the war between RiverClan and ShadowClan, a war which had begun long before she was born. She is willing to give everything for peace. Willing to do anything. When a message from StarClan comes to both Clan Medicine Cats, a terrifying plan to end the fighting is revealed. She must tie herself and have the the kits of a cat she does not love, the dark deputy of ShadowClan, Ebonyclaw.

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POV - Crowflight

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I hate war. I hate the stench of blood. I hate the burning of wounds. I hate the livid look in some eyes and the terrified look in others. I hate violence in general. But I have never told anyone of these thoughts.

A war is a plethora of battles, battles that are said to be won and lost. But in the end, there is no one who wins the battle. The only things gained from it are losses. If you lose one warrior and already you have lost a friend, a child, a parent, a brother or sister, a loyal soldier who died for your selfish reasons.

Not because he wasn't strong enough to fend off his attack. Not because he was too brave to stop fighting. Your fault, because you were the one who sent him into battle.

War seized the world long ago, and in a short time, it was said to have destroyed two other clans that lived alongside us. Now only two clans remain, ShadowClan and RiverClan, with far to much land between us. We fight for the moors. We fight for the forests. We fight for the river that led up to our sacred Moonpool and for the lands beyond the Thunderpath.

If only we believed in words instead of war. If only we could speak to each other instead of fight with tooth and claw. If we could believe in the kindness of others, be courteous, to respect boundaries. Perhaps then we could build a world in which there was only happiness and peace. Perhaps then we would see how silly fighting was, and we could tear down the walls between clans.

But in war, there are no beliefs.

There is no kindness. There is no mercy. You kill or are killed, hunt or are hunted. If you fall you cannot pray to get back up, you must summon your own strength to bring your paws beneath you. If you forget the reason to fight on you quickly substitute it with vengeance for those who fell and did not rise again. You continue to fight, fight until your heart gives out, and when you die, you do not die in honor; you only fuel the blaze that is war and send more of your friends and family to their death.

But no matter what I believed and hated, I was born into the life of war. I was born to lead my comrades into the fight, and some to their deaths. I was born to perhaps one day be the leader of ShadowClan, and continue this horrible war. I was born to one day kill. Kill enemies along with my friends.

But now I dug my claws into the ground, trying to keep myself from retching before the fighting even started. Around me warriors shifted, apprehensive for the fight to come. Next to me my sister, Nightwind, stirred, sensing my nervousness. She turned her golden eyes to me, but I looked away, back to my paws. With a soft sigh she drew close to me, pressing her lean body against my own. I relaxed under her touch, though a shiver of fear still haunted me.

"Are you ready, Crowflight?" another voice whispered to me, that of my last remaining brother, Ebonyclaw. He too pressed his fur into my own to comfort me, his shape completely different from Nightwinds, with powerful and taut, a true son of his father. I gulped and he leaned closer to me, whispering softly in my ear, "Make our father proud."

The leaves of the bush we hid in stirred, and another cat neared, my sister's guard, a big black-and-white tabby tom with yellow eyes. He glanced behind himself, checking on a few other warriors who were restless, then turned to Nightwind.

"They're coming from downstream," he whispered in his husky voice, "Give us the signal." My brother nodded, turning away from him, and Nightwind pulled away from me to be by her guard, who pressed into her smaller form and twined his tail with hers. Ebonyclaw tensed and everyone went silent as we heard the patrol near.

It was a large patrol, six warriors and two apprentices, walking stiffly as if they knew we were coming. Ebonyclaw lifted his tail and Nightwind tensed, and then, with a tiny flick, we rushed from the bushes.

And the same horrible chaos ensued.

I stumbled through the fighting, dodging attacks as well as I could. In the darkness I could not tell who was who, and I suspected that everyone else couldn't as well. Nightwind was skillfully avoiding the claws of a big gray warrior, though he to was fast enough to avoid hers, while Ebonyclaw threw his opponent to the ground and gave him a fierce bite to the collar.

A bloody figure stumbled into me, collapsing in the grass as I turned to her. Her green eyes were wide with terror, and it took me longer then a moment to realize that she was afraid I was going to kill her. I felt my heart pound in my chest, I felt like the entire world could hear it. I looked from side to side, Nightwind and Ebonyclaws eyes were fixed on me, watching what I would do next.

Someone screamed and I saw a rush of ginger flying towards me, but Nightwinds guard came between us, battering the other warrior backwards. I looked down to the wounded warrior, there were tears forming in her eyes.

"Please don't," she whispered, blood bubbling from her mouth, spilling down her ginger-brown chest, "Please don't."

"Kill her now, Crowflight!" someone yowled from nearby.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. She felt my terror. She knew that I didn't want to do it. I narrowed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in my own eyes.

It was a life, who was I to steal it from her?

"Do it!" another voice snarled, and I closed my eyes, trying to not look at her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm so sorry."

She lets out a sob and I lunge forward, my teeth meeting her neck.

And at that moment, i died.

A shudder runs through her body, and a moment later she is limp. Her blood no longer flows through her body. I pull away, I feel the blood dripping down my face, I taste it, and I smell it in my breath. I turn, stumbling away, horrified at what I had just done.

Ebonyclaw gives a yowl, racing over to me and blundering me forward. We all disappear into the night, returning to the camp where I am praised by my father for taking my first life.

But inside I am hollow. Inside I hate myself. I do not go to our Medicine Cat to get treated for my wounds; I curl up in my nest, trying to go to sleep. But whenever I close my eyes, I am back on the battlefield, I am standing in front of the ginger-brown she-cat with green eyes. I relive the shudder that passes through her body and into my own. I try to sleep. But I wake up as soon as the moon is in the sky, ice cold and crying.

I feel my sister stir close to me, and she leans her head over my smaller form, resting it on my flank. I continue to cry, and my brother soon awakens, scooting closer and wrapping his longer form around me. I am surrounded by warmth. But I am still ice cold.

Nightwind begins to lick my ears gently, and I slowly begin to relax. It is a sign of what is to come, we all see that.

From that moment on I cannot blink without seeing the tear-filled green eyes of the she-cat I killed. I cannot help but see her in every prey I hunt. My heart tears into smaller bits with every heartbeat and breath i take and she doesn't, and not even my siblings can sew it back together.

My wounds heal except for my leg, which I keep hidden from everyone. I feel the horrible sting of the wound is atonement for the life I took. But it isn't enough. The wound grows worse and worse. I am racked with a fever I am struggling to hide. I am always cold now. I am cursed. I am scared.

I have not slept in a moon, i have given up trying. Every night I go to the center of the camp, abandoning the warmth of my siblings bodies. ShadowClan cats are never alone. When their parents are not with them they are always with other kits, comforted by the feeling of others around them. But i cannot find comfort in that anymore. I cannot bring myself to draw to the comfort of touch. I feel as though i should never be comforted again.

StarClan, please take me now. I don't deserve to live. Not after I took a life that wasn't mine.

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It's a short chapter, i'll admit that much. The next one will be longer (and in a different POV)

So, now, besides the length, you see that little purepley-blue button in the corner of the screen?

Click it.

Nooooow, tell me what you think!

:3

pretty please?

pretty pretty please?