I was the kit who survived the Great Journey alongside my dear brother Toadfoot and sister Marshkit, with my best friend Birchfall who is happily mated to a snowy-furred she-cat named Whitewing. He has two daughters, Dovewing and Ivypool.

I was the she-cat who was forgotten.

I wondered if any cat remembered my appearance, how my fur was the ruddy reddish-brown of a ripening apple in newleaf while my white underbelly and paws were snowy in contrast. How my irises - friendly, bright and curious were twin pieces of the dusky sky.

How I died before I was given my mentor; my warrior name, how my life was snatched away from me as if it was a meaningless addition to ShadowClan.

It wasn't fair. I worked twice as hard as any kit; always inspecting the fresh kill pile for the best piece of prey for the elders and queens; I made sure my mother and littermates ate healthily, while selecting the most measly morsel for myself. I kept up a lively banter, listening with great fascination to the elder's tales and fables, all the while assisting to their needs and demands.

I even participated in cleaning out the nursery once. I deserved to live - I spent my entire kithood to stabilize my position as a warrior. I aspired to be a leader of ShadowClan, clever and cunning albeit kind and loyal. I would rest in StarClan, watching over my former Clan mates; content with my life.

Instead I died from an illness alongside my dear, dear sister Marshkit.

Marshkit did not mind having starlight in her fur at such an early age. She served StarClan faithfully, accepting her position among the dead. She never wanted to be Marshstar, the proud leader of her Clan.

I envied her; she got the life she always wanted.

I never even got to Appleblossom.

My dreams shattered when I reached StarClan. My hopes dwindled into nothingness, goals of bravery and intelligence fading into wishful thinking. I was lost, wishing for a chance to be reincarnated into a youthful kit with the destiny of becoming a leader.

Eventually when my wish was futile, I began to watch over my former best friend, Birchfall. He had grown into a fine tom with long gray fur and clever eyes with a personality that I grew to admire and adore. Despite my sister's warnings of not to become too close to the living ThunderClan warrior, I ignored her cautions and fell into the clutches of love. After all, he still remembered me.

My love was my dark secret but I nurtured it with relish. It tightened my hold on sanity and gave me the will to become the cat I used to be. Within time, I observed my secret love until I noticed he had become closer to a dainty she-cat with a pelt made from winter.

I dismissed their growing relationship as a good friendship; nothing more. Oh, how I was wrong!

When Birchfall mated with Whitewing and she bore his kits I was devastated. I lost everything; my life, my legacy and my love.

Yet I will continue to eye him through the swirling pool waters, protecting his kits from danger and keeping the dying embers of love alive as his mate replaces me in his mind.

One cannot bear to feel himself forgotten.

I can relate to that.

A/N: A short-short on Applekit, the young she-kit who traveled on the Great Journey alongside Toadfoot, Birchfall and Marshkit? She mysteriously disappeared afterwards and I've always pondered what happened to her. Alongside that, I've always enjoyed the thought of her and liked the pairing Apple/Birch more than White/Birch.