A disease-ridden elder, a sickly apprentice, a warrior that sacrifices its life for the good of its clan.
All of these deaths are sad, all punch a hole straight into the heart of its beholders…but eventually, one will move on. They will still twitch with grief at the oddest intervals, will still remember their friend or companion or mate in the slightest, most precise details, but they will eventually leave the grief behind and bury their energy in fresher thoughts, emotions, ideas and duties to their clan.
There is, however, perhaps nothing sadder than the death of a kit.
Lively, innocent, so full of energy and eager to protect and serve all of the cats around them – no one ever expects a kit to have to face hardship so early on in life. Kits are supposed to be naive and curious, spending their days upsetting elders and stumbling into the wrong dens. They aren't meant to be left in the clutches of Starclan, not before they can even live out their lives or know the joy of a hunt or the vehement intensity of rushing into battle to fight alongside ones friends. Kits are supposed to be protected so that they can grow, develop their skills and personalities and freedoms.
Kits are not meant to die.
Emeraldkit had always loved butterflies, and one fateful day a particularly beautiful one caught her attention. She'd strayed outside of the nursery, curiously inspecting a patch of lilac flowers growing beside the elders den. No cat paid her any attention; all assumed her mother had an eye on her, or at least knew where she went. Only three moons old, Emeraldkit was as inquisitive as they come, and the moment she saw a flutter of movement out of the corner of her eye, she sprang into action.
The butterfly was beautiful; perched on the curve of a dead mouse's tail, its intricately patterned wings seemed to glisten against the bright sun shining down on it. Mystified, Emeraldkit crept closer and closer until she could make out the dark blue splotches on its grey wings, and she sat back, staring at the butterfly in wonder. How something could be so beautiful was beyond her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the creature as it prowled up and down the mouse's tail, serving no purpose except to flash and show off its beautiful patterns. When the insect finally took wing, Emeraldkit was distraught; she didn't want her new friend to go.
Oblivious as to where she was headed, Emeraldkit followed the butterfly out a hole in the bramble wall and into the forest. She'd never been in her clan's territory before, but had no time to admire the vastness and greenery. All her energies and attention were focused on following the butterfly as it fluttered teasingly up and down, occasionally darting out of her line of sight before Emeraldkit put on a burst of speed and caught up with the creature. Scrambling up and over logs, through thick fern fronds, past dangerous holes and dips in the earth – Emeraldkit was so intent on her guide that she didn't even notice she was nearing the river.
Though the river was usually gentle and sluggish, it had been made frothing and violent by spring rains and heavy winds that caused it to overflow its banks. Even now, when the weather was calm and serene, strong waves lapped at the shore, and the water swirled ferociously. Emeraldkit took no note of the river, though, and squinted in concentration as the butterfly began to hover in the air, slowly dropping towards the ground. It landed on a patch of reeds, its wings fluttering a few times in a flash of blue and grey. Yowling with delight, Emeraldkit pranced towards her companion, trampling the coarse, crunchy reeds in her wake. Alarmed by the sound, the butterfly took to the skies, and this time it fluttered into the trees and well beyond Emeraldkit's vision.
Distraught and frustrated, Emeraldkit backed into the clump of reeds, trying to get a good look into the trees branches to see if she could find her friend. Just as she was narrowing her eyes, though, and making out a blurry blue-grey shape, a strong force crashed into the kits legs. She shrieked in alarm as frigid water washed over her, but her screech was cut off as she toppled onto her side and water flooded her mouth. Her legs flailed and thrashed wildly as she tried to get purchase in the slick mud, but no sooner had she begun dragging herself forward than another hungry wave of water was ripping at her tiny, frail body, and this time it was successful. Butterfly forgotten, Emeraldkit gave another desperate scream, but it was too late; the ground slid out from under her and she was plunged in the rivers' cold, muddy depths.
Only pure instinct stopped Emeraldkit from freezing up in shock and letting the water instantly take her life. Her legs kicked out in sharp, robotic motions, trying to thrust her body up into the pool of golden sunlight that glittered tantalizingly on the surface of the water above. The current was too strong, though, and Emeraldkit was mercilessly flung downstream despite her struggles. Fur swirled around her in a heavy cloud, and flecks of blood floated up through the water as Emeraldkit kicked her paws against the sharp stones below her. Her lungs were aching for air, her eyes beginning to splotch in and out of focus. The bank seemed so far away, the surface of the river so high up…her limbs had begun to ache the harder she fought, and Emeraldkit suddenly realized how easy it would be to just relax and let the water soothe her sore muscles…
Suddenly, a blunt force slammed into her body. Emeraldkit's eyes flashed back open to take in a wall of dark grey stone; she'd slammed straight into a rock. The current still rushed around her, but for the time being, the strong water had pinned her small body against the broad stone. Unsheathing her tiny, needle sharp claws, Emeraldkit mustered up what little strength she had remaining and slowly clawed her way up the stone. It was slick with countless years of moss and algae, but the little kit was determined, and she somehow managed to drag herself up to the base of the rock. The moment her sodden head broke the surface, she took in deep, icy breaths of air, inhaling and exhaling until her chest ached with effort. Violent tremors wracked her body, and she'd never felt more cold in her life, but Emeraldkit clung onto the stone for dear life – because she knew that was what was at risk.
Though she'd managed to break the surface of the water, the majority of Emeraldkit's body was still submerged in the rapidly-moving river, and she knew if she didn't climb up on the stone, she'd soon be paralyzed with cold; then she'd never have a chance of getting out of here. Shakily reaching up with both paws, she grabbed the top of the rock, her claws digging into the cold surface. Her pads burned, still oozing blood, as she clawed her way up, but Emeraldkit couldn't stop now. Giving a faint, triumphant mew as she began dragging her chest over the top of the rock, Emeraldkit thought she was done, thought she was safe.
She could never have been more wrong.
As she patted the rock with her paws, trying to find a new clawhold to drag the remainder of her body up onto the rock, she suddenly lost her balance. A wave slammed into her hindquarters, and her forelegs slipped back into the rivers' cruel wake; Emeraldkit let out a strangled cry as she struggled to find a grip. Her claws slipped on the mossy rock, though, and she found herself slipping steadily down and down, the river once again taking hold of her tiny body. Emeraldkit was screaming, shrieking inside, begging Starclan not to let this happen, to let her find purchase on the slimy stone, but no such thing happened, and with a forlorn plop, her body slammed back into the water. The current beat her mercilessly back and forth against the stone, then suddenly whirled her around it and back into the open river. Emeraldkit grasped weakly at the rock with her paws, but she'd barely touched its frigid surface before she was again swirling downstream.
As the water gripped her frail body in its icy claws again, Emeraldkit didn't even bother fighting back. Her limbs, sodden and aching with effort, could barely move, even when she tried desperately to thrash out. Her eyes swirled in a maelstrom of color and shapes as the river threw her past stones, around floating debris, over logs and clumps of algae. Once or twice she broke the surface as the river tossed her limp body back and forth, but Emeraldkit didn't even try to draw breath – she knew she had no strength to even open her mouth. Her body and hope and mind and faith were slowly shutting down, and as Emeraldkit stared dully forward, she could barely remember her own name, where she was, what was happening. She was alone – totally, desolately, and desperately alone.
Suddenly, everything seemed to pause, to freeze. The current slowed to a sluggish halt, the frigid coldness leveled out into mild warmth. Emeraldkit's eyes, only half-opened, peered dully through the curtain of water above her. She could see shadows of trees and the bank and a nest of bird eggs, but all were misshapen by the slanted surface of the thrashing river. One detail, though, stood out in precise clarity. Emeraldkit found her eyes automatically attracted to it, fixated on the fluttering shape as she slowly drifted into cradling darkness. It was the last thing Emeraldkit saw before Starclan took her life.
A blue-grey butterfly, fluttering merrily above.