Briarlight
I felt guilty of being jealous of my sister.
That's why I joined the Dark Forest.
I wanted to feel acknowledged.
Most of all, loved. I wanted to feel as if I was worth something.
The night I became a warrior, no one congratulated me. Or rather, the cheered my name and then focused all their attention on Briarlight. I couldn't help myself when I looked at my sister's legs.
They hung limply, useless. I stared at my own, strong with muscles in my legs, and my legs that could run as swift as the wind. I felt a moment of pity for my sister, who would have died when the tree fell if it hadn't been for Jayfeather.
Then it was replaced by jealousy.
Rage.
My brother and I were nothing but ghost to the Clan now, even to Millie and Graystripe, our parents who had once loved us equally and dearly.
Millie acted as if she had only one kit now, always near Briarlight, always in the Medicine Cat's den. She was always there when Briarlight dragged herself to the fresh-kill pile. Graystripe didn't do anything. He only watched in silence. Didn't they notice that my brother and I were suffering as well?
No. They didn't.
Bumplestripe and I were left to defend for ourselves.
Sometimes I wondered if I died, Millie would care. If anyone would care. If my sister...
No, I mustn't think about that. If my sister died, it would all be the same. Millie would still believe she only had one kit.
I didn't have Clanmates in ThunderClan anymore. I only had them in the Dark Forest.
And like Clanmates, I would defend them and battle on their side.
Or die trying.