A MOTHER'S DAUGHTER

This is not my mother.

My mother would never do this.

Silent, unable to form words, I watched her rise from her feet to loom over the dead body of my former mentor, Harrierflight, crimson blood from the body of the murdered warrior dripping from her deadly fangs. Harrierflight, my friend and mentor, was dead.

The two sentences became a chant.

This is not my mother.

My mother raised her head and howled to the rest of the Clan, "Do you see what happens when you defy me?!" Spit and blood coated her mouth. Her yellow eyes, once warm and friendly, were wide and unfamiliar. Her once shining solid-silver pelt was wild, dull and unkempt. Quite frankly, my mother Dovestar, leader of WindClan, looked insane. And she was insane. That much was clear. And I, Silverdove, warrior of WindClan, named by my mother and after my mother, will most likely lose my mind too because I can't bear to see my mother this way.

My mother would never do this.

I had been born before my mother became deputy. She had been made deputy during the first couple moons of my apprenticeship, and I could never have been more proud.

Neither could she. Of herself. She was proud, but anyone would be. No one realized just how proud she really was. Neither had I.

I wish I had. I should have realized something was wrong when, during the last moon of my apprenticeship, our leader Brownstar lost a life. His second life, he only had one left. Of course, he didn't tell us that. He said he had four.

My mother, then Doveshine for the beauty of her silver pelt that was so much like mine (hence my name Silverpaw), obviously had been told the truth of how many lives he had, for she was deputy, and as such she could be trusted to have such knowledge.

She couldn't be trusted at all, but no one knew that. Yet.

I had been named a warrior that moon by Brownstar, but technically he didn't name me. I heard him speaking to my mother one day, while they were eating prey in camp. Now, as an apprentice, I had been very nosy and had a reputation for eavesdropping. A lot. I liked to be informed.

"Doveshine," Brownstar had began in that deep voice he always spoke in, "if you could choose a warrior name for your daughter, what would it be?" He nibbled idly on his chaffinch.

"Sir? To my recollection, leaders name apprentices, not deputies." My mother had answered mildly. Her tone gave nothing away.

Brownstar ignored her, "Silverclaw, perhaps, after her superb fighting skills and father, Blazeclaw. I know how much you loved him and how much you must miss him."

"I miss him every day." My mother lied through her teeth, "But I don't think Silverclaw would be a good name for her."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Silverdove. After all, she looks exactly like me, if not for her emerald eyes so much like Blazeclaw's." Neither of us had detected the trace of anger and loathing in her voice as she mentioned my green gaze and whose it was so similar to.

Brownstar smiled, mistaking my mother's selfish desire to permanently remind me forever of her as motherly love, "Silverdove it is, then." He nodded and it was final.

I was ecstatic, because not only did I know what my warrior name would be when it was basically unheard of for apprentices to, but I was certain that my mother loved me despite how little time we got to spend together due to her deputy duties.

My mother and I had been close, or so I had thought.

And so, the night after, I became Silverdove, warrior of WindClan, and I couldn't be prouder of myself.

Mother couldn't be more proud of me either, as she purred and nuzzled me affectionately for almost three minutes. I didn't mind. I loved my mother, and she loved me. I just never realized how much, and how obsessed she was becoming.

A mother's possessiveness, love and high hopes for her children gone wrong.

But this, this is not my mother.

My mother would never do this.

She wouldn't take Brownstar's last life to become leader.

This is not my mother.

She wouldn't become obsessed with me and try to make WindClan a Clan which worked like royalty, where only kits of leaders could become deputies.

This is not my mother.

She wouldn't make my elder brother, Blazingfrost-- just as mousebrained as she, deputy. She wouldn't act like just because we were kin we would stay together no matter what happened.

THIS IS NOT MY MOTHER.

Because things didn't work that way. As much as I would hate to say it, I would willingly kill both Blazingfrost and Dovestar for the sake of my Clan.

"Silverdove, my baby, tell them!" Dovestar hissed, whirling around at me, and she looked more mad than I had ever thought I would see her, "Tell them that what I am doing is for the best! Tell them that your father was a fool, thinking I was losing my mind over my kits." She paused to take a deep breath, her silver chest heaving.

"Tell them how I killed him for not seeing your true ability! Tell them how blessed you and your brother are, and how you two and I will lead this Clan to greatness!" She was howling again now, and my Clanmates looked on in disgust. I could feel the same feeling building inside me, as well as what might have been insanity. "Tell them how great my blood is to produce such amazing kits! Tell them how great you are! Tell them how much your mother loves you!"

I felt like choking for air, feeling as if I was drowning in waves of betrayal. Waves that were trying to kill me, suffocate me. I was dying, and yet I was not. I could not ignore the sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces.

"YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" I screamed, and my words rang true. My mother had died long ago and joined StarClan, and this, this monster had replaced her, had entered her body and falsely taken the role as my mother. "MY MOTHER WOULD NEVER DO THIS!"

My mother-- not my mother-- flinched backwards as if struck. "W-what--"

"MY MOTHER WOULD NOT KILL MY FATHER."

"He didn't see--"

"MY MOTHER WOULDN'T KILL BROWNSTAR. MY MOTHER WOULDN'T DO THIS TO ME. SHE WOULDN'T HURT ME LIKE THIS."

Dovestar's eyes filled with tears of regret instantly, even if she didn't quite understand what I was so upset about. "My baby, Silverkit, I never meant to h--"

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME SILVERKIT! Only my mother could ever call me Silverkit!" I roared, sobbing now, overwhelmed by the killing weight of it all.

"We are kin!"

"Blood doesn't matter when it is life or death!" Harrierflight taught me that.

And so, ignoring my brother's angry shouts, I lunged at Dovestar, pure blind fury overtaking me. I slashed, bit, and cut until the body underneath me was moving no more. I had barely even registered the fact that several of my Clanmates had joined in, a couple moving for Dovestar while the rest went for Blazingfrost, his yellow eyes just like Mother's widening in fear as they tore at him, his frosty-white face contorted in terror, and ginger fur just like Father's fluffed out to it's full length, as he was longfurred, also like Father.

The world around me became a soundless blur as I rolled off Dovestar's body, collapsing to the ground, feeling utterly exhausted and so defeated.

My sobs quieting now, I curled into myself and tried to disappear into oblivion. I had loved Mother and Brother so much. Now, Mother and Brother were dead; Dovestar and Blazingfrost had taken their place. Now they, the imposters, were dead as well, banished to the Place of No Stars.

I had a sickening sinking feeling in my stomach, and I barely realized that I was losing consciousness. I didn't even realize it at all as two warriors lifted me up, and I didn't hear even a faint mumble as the medicine cat announced that my wounds were very minor, but there was nothing he could do for a shattered heart.

For days I didn't realize anything at all. When I 'recovered,' as our medicine cat called it, I didn't speak for weeks. I didn't find out until I started speaking again that Finchfeather became Finchstar and Mapledrop his deputy. That was good. Finchfea-- Finchstar and Mapledrop were not related at all. They were noble cats. They would lead WindClan well.

Though the shock of betrayal eventually faded in WindClan, my heart never healed. It never will. No matter how many patrols I go on, now matter how many battles I fight, no matter how many words of sympathy and congratulations for my courage I will receive, I will never heal. I will continue to just be, but I will never truly be there, for what desire should I have to truly live anymore, if the ones I love most are no longer here with me?

I was dying… and yet I was not.

Kin sometimes means everything.

Sometimes it means nothing.

For Silverdove, it's both.

A/N: This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I didn't try writing it until recently. This will remain as a oneshot until I get a decent idea for a sequel of some kind. Not a chapter story, though. Not until I finish all the ones I have already.

I really did my best to make Silverdove's emotions clear enough, but I feel I didn't do it as well as I'd hoped. Review your thoughts?