She had grown up with him. They had practically raised each other in that crowded little den, both their fathers dead in the same battle, both their mothers left alone with large litters to raise. So they knew each other: not just names, or likes and dislikes. She knew how he walked through the forest after it rained, every twitch of his whisker when he was nervous, and she could read every thought that flashed through those golden eyes. He knew her darkest fears and secrets, and memorized the inflections of her voice. They were almost one cat, divided at birth. Stonetail and Blueshine.
Stonekit and Bluekit were inseparable, yet contended with littermates for each other's attentions. Icekit and Quietkit mimicked each other and their bossy sister, while Smokekit, Fallowkit, and Drizzlekit walked all over their gentle brother. The pair couldn't be more different: the bold blue she-kit with her strong opinions and forceful tone and the laidback, loyal tom with a heart as gilded as his gaze. Yet they fit together, like two pieces from the same puzzle.
Stonepaw and Bluepaw were indivisible: their mentors were best friends, as were they. Yet soon she found something endearing in the way he wrinkled his nose in the cold, and he in the fidgeting twists of her tail as she listened. She was no longer irritated by the slow pauses between his thoughts, or how he hated sparrows. He no longer complained about the way her voice carried across the territories, or her love of pinesap and the way it clung in frozen drips to her claws. They had fallen irreparably in like with each other, and, realizing the other felt the same, it soon turned to thoughts of love. Neither could pay attention when the other was near; jokes were no longer for prying ears. They giggled through ceremonies and whispered through announcements and their tails were perpetually entangled. They were in their own world, where she made the rules and he made her follow them. They would disappear for long walks and long talks and stay up all night just listening to the other breathe. When they curled about each other it was yin and yang and night and day, yet they fit so perfectly together that neither noticed. Until he gave her a cherry blossom.
That flower was so soft and pure, so delicate and true. She hadn't a clue where he'd found it, all white with rosy tints and perfect petals. His face was glowing as he gave it to her, and it seemed to tell her the future: she would lead him forever, this doe-eyed gray-furred goof that she loved. But she wasn't in love with him. All the things this flower meant to him, and the way he was sure it would blossom and grow and bear a ripe fruit of its own, did not bear the same for her. The fruit was not hers, and was not the blessing he claimed it to be. They'd practically raised each other, Bluekit and Stonekit, and they knew everything about the other. There was no mystery, there was no passion. He sought familiarity, and all she found was convenience. She took his flower wordlessly, and buried it deep within her nest, as if trying to suffocate his feelings the way they suffocated her. She left it on his nest the morning of their ceremony, brown and shriveled, and did not stay to see his tears.
Stonetail and Blueshine were alien to each other, inasmuch as they were too familiar with each other to recognize themselves. She found herself in the warrior's den when she first felt his eyes upon her. She knew she was beautiful, yet not as beautiful as the 'paw who so clearly lusted after her dear blossom. But this hazel stare ensnared her: when she met it, he held her gaze. So bold was this warrior, this older tom, who she had never noticed before. She was too busy melting into his yin that she forgot her own. Now, with this tom, she'd met her match. He did not break away, or buckle under the fire in her strong green gaze. He met it with icy hazel, perfectly even, and not a hair on his pelt ruffled when she had to turn away. He won her immediately, not in the strength of the muscle that rippled under his glossy tabby pelt, but in the defiance of his will. To often she had trampled the quiet kindness that had shadowed her youth, and stomped her hard paw of passion upon it. Too often had a blanket of cool snow muffled her blaze.
Blueshine and Addershriek were real, realer than Blueshine and Stonetail ever were. Each day one discovered something new about the other, and they were not quick to accept each other's flaws and quirks. They took time to consciously memorize each and every thing with painstaking attention to detail. They did everything together, but knew when enough was enough. They maintained a sense of self while fitting the empty space each needed filled. He matched her fire and her ice. Soon but almost not soon enough were they expecting kits, and she realized her fruit was ripening as she willed it to. Stonetail still watched her, but she had found the true, unyielding yin to her yang.
Stonetail and Paledove were real, too. But a calculated real. Her key fit all his locks, and he had never realized before that someone else could know him just as well as Blueshine had, yet still not know him at all. There were things he still kept from her, like the nights spent under a moonless sky or long summer days by the blue river. He kept her secrets and stored them away deep inside of him, and he kept his secrets too. Paledove exposed everything to him, and opened her raw and bleeding heart to this tom who had closed his away.
