Hey,
I felt kinda bored and depressed...so yeah, this. Poor Whitewater. You lived for about three-four minutes, from creation to death. Anyway, please review! (I'd say enjoy but with this type of fic, well, you know...). Oh, and if you're looking for a slightly longer Warriors story, check out my fanfic "The 6th Clan". (Shameless self promotion)
-Melissa
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I no own
You no sue.
Whitewater stared down at the edge of the cliff. Her paws rested, peeking over the fall. So close. So, so close.
The water below frothed over the jagged rocks, churning up white foam. It reminded her of her name. Had Sweetstar seen this moment, when she named her Whitewater? The white she-cat didn't know.
She knew her Clan didn't care. If she was loyal to FloodClan, why would it matter if she was half MeadowClan?
But it did matter. It mattered to her. It mattered that she was torn between the two Clans of the forest.
She knew Creamflower would beg her to stay. Easy for her half-sister to say. The beautiful queen was pure FloodClan.
On some level, she could feel the pain of the sharp rocks by the cliff digging into her pads. She could feel it, but she no longer took notice or cared.
Maybe, Flamestar would've told the truth about having a kit, having her, with Sweetstar, if she wasn't so awful. She was an embarrassment to both Clans, and she knew it.
Her dark blue gaze narrowed as she studied the rocks. A jump from up where she stood would surely kill her.
But she knew it wasn't just being half-Clan. It was being an outcast, even before the Clans knew the truth of her parentage. Whitewater was always the shy one, unlike her sister, no, half-sister. She had no mate, had never had an apprentice, and her only friend was Creamflower. Now, even the cream she-cat had moved on, busy with her mate, her kits, her friends.
The Clan would pretend to grieve, yes.
But who would truly care that Whitewater was gone?
No one.
No one would care.
Whitewater closed her eyes and took the jump.