Chapter 1

Lilyfang's cold body lies in the middle of the camp. Her silver fur has been groomed till it almost glows in the moonlight, and her body is arranged in such a way that she could be sleeping. Her amber eyes are closed. They will never open again. I can see the rosemary and mint they placed onto her to mask the scent of death. Her death.

She is my mother.

Not that I care. I'm not sad, not in any way. I suppose I should be, but I'm not. I never made an effort to really connect with her. I knew that if I did, then something would happen, then it would hurt. And it's weak, anyways, weak to love. Nobody needs it. Love makes cats who could've been fine warriors into rambling fools, once-great leaders to make rash decisions on the battlefield.

No, I will not love.

Look at my father, Falconclaw, for instance. At this moment, his head hangs low, his eyes filled with pain and grief. He was once the best fighter in the clan, but I can tell that his mate's death has taken is out of him. It will scar him for life. He will never be the same again.

"Slatepaw?"

Speaking of love and weakness, here comes Fallowpaw. I don't even need to turn to tell if it's her or not. I can tell by her voice. It is timid and nervous, quiet and shy. It's filled with hurt.

"Slatepaw, are you okay?"

Her voice trembles, just a little bit, and I hear a small whimper. I have never, in the entire ten moons of my life, heard more than three words exchanged between Lilyfang and Fallowpaw. Yet here the latter is, crying over something perfectly natural. Warriors die all the time. It's nothing new.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I snap.

Fallowpaw seats herself next to me, her flank brushing against mine. I flinch at the touch and scoot away.

"Well," she begins nervously, "it's just, you know, Lilyfang was y-your mother a-and all. And...and I thought th-that you might-might be sad, 'cause...you know...she was your family, and..." Her voice trails off. It's just as well, because by now she's a stuttering, sniveling little mess.

I let out a small hiss of annoyance. "Go away, Fallowpaw."

The brown tabby she-cat nods slightly and pads away. "I-I understand."

"I doubt it."

Falconclaw lets out an anguished cry when the elders come to take Lilyfang away to bury her. "No!" he howls. "No, you can't! Lilyfang!" His eyes are still filled with that hurt, but now they also have wild, crazed look in them. "Lilyfang!" he sobs, and his face looks sunken and defeated. "Lilyfang!"

This is exactly what I'm talking about. I don't want to end up like him. Loving is for fools. Falconclaw loved; where is he now? And Lilyfang died because she loved, sacrificing herself against the fox attack that killed her.

I know that I will never let myself get close to anyone. I've heard stories about cats being taken and then used against their family and friends.

I don't need anyone else anyways. I can do everything by myself. I'm not weak. I will never be weak or foolish or blind to the true nature of love.

Never.