She had been in Starclan for a long time. Rowanclaw's once glossy ginger coat was now faded and transparent, more gleam than gloss. All her family had faded from Starclan- her mother, Gorsetail, her father, Rockfoot. Her brothers, sisters and friends as well. She knew not the younger cats of Starclan, but was happy to converse with them about her glory days.
It seemed now that her time was coming. Soon Rowanclaw would fade into nothingness like thousands of cats before her; and it was terrifying. In fact, many of the cats around her hardly seemed to notice her existence. Their eyes slid from her pelt like water from a fish's scales and they always seemed shocked when she spoke, as if she had appeared from nowhere. In actuality, she might have been sitting next to them for a good while but no matter what she did, it seemed as if they hardly saw here at all.
Still, Rowanclaw went on with her life. She prowled the forests of Starclan, sunned herself on the warm stones near the burbling rivers and hunted until her belly swelled.
But today was different. Rowanclaw awoke from her night's sleep, stretching out leisurely from her nest. She left the cave where she had spent many nights, along with a few other cats from her old clan. She padded out towards the camp's center, her wide blue eyes darting from cat to cat. She lit up as her gaze settled on Troutfur, a handsome gray tom that had also once been from Riverclan.
She sat herself next to Troutfur, who was tucking into a plump looking salmon and purred to him, "Another beautiful morning, isn't it?"
Troutfur continued on as if he hadn't heard her at all. He swiped his tongue around his jaws, sitting back contently.
Rowanclaw waited a moment, staring expectantly as the tom before her. Still, no reply. She began to get angry- how rude could he be? She was talking right to him and yet he made no move to respond!
She stood up quickly, her lip curled in displeasure as she spat, "You could at least tell me you didn't want company, you know!"
In response, Troutfur let out a loud yawn and promptly stretched out on a nearby rock, letting his forepaws dabble in the water.
Her jaw dropped in outrage. Well, if Troutfur was going to ignore her, she was going to ignore him! She turned tail and stalked away. She wasn't sure was she was going but she didn't stop until the sound of the river was far behind her.
"The nerve of some cats," She mumbled to herself as she went along, her paws whispering over the foliage of the dense forest, "I thought he liked me..."
From the bushes sprang another cat, her jaws clamped tightly down on a mouse. Her tail waved victoriously behind her as she trotted right for Rowanclaw.
The collision never came. Rowanclaw froze, bracing herself for impact with the other cat but instead of knocking into her, the other cat ran right through her!
It was a strange feeling. For a moment, Rowanclaw could feel the warmth of the other cat and a slight tugging sensation. Then, she was back in her own body, the she-cat whisking by as if nothing had happened.
Rowanclaw sank to her haunches in shock, her legs shaking. What in the name of Starclan had just happened? Of course the cats of Starclan were ethereal, but here they could touch just as any live cat could.
"W-what's happening to me?" She whispered aloud, eyes darting to and fro. She needed to find more cats. Maybe this was just a fluke. Maybe it was some joke, some sort of cruel joke?
She broke into a run, her paws barely skimming the ground as she headed back toward camp. She arrived, flustered and panicked. She sloshed through the river towards Mallowface, a white she-cat, who sat poised over the water and intent. Rowanclaw stopped in front of her, eye wide and scared.
Mallowface made no indication she was there, her paw darting out and phasing through Rowanclaw to strike a fish from the water.
She reeled away, stumbling over her own paws in her haste to move away. Her eyes stung, fear overtaking her. She yowled into the camp, "Any cat! Please, answer me...please." She trailed off as her cries fell on deaf ears. Her whiskers drooped as she dragged herself back towards her den. This was it, wasn't it? She was fading. She raised a paw, staring down, or rather through, her own flesh. It was hard to discern what was fur or what was rock.
Think, think! Rowanclaw squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember the day her sister, the last of her family, had faded. One moment Lilynose was there and the next, she had been gone. It had been sudden.
With horror, a thought struck Rowanclaw. What if Lilynose was still here and no one could sense or see her? She whimpered, "Lilynose...I'm so sorry. If you can hear me." She felt foolish speaking to the cave wall,
She curled up tightly into a ball, tucking her tail over her nose. Maybe if she slept it would all go away. She could wake up, go for a hunt and flirt with Troutfur. She focused her breathing, forcing herself to relax.
Sleep was difficult to come by, but at last she left the waking word for blissful, inky darkness. The peace was short lived, however. She was awoken as she felt her body spasm. She wanted to yowl but no sound came from her mouth. It was warm, warmer than she remembered and so dark. She attempted to stretch out but found it impossible.
Everything was muffled, but she could hear voices in the distance. Was this it? Was she going to fade into nothingness? Would she Lilynose and her mother? What if all that waited her was simply nothing. No cat to remember her name. She would just cease to be.
Suddenly the warmth disappeared, as if she had slid from a sun-dappled bank into an icy river. At last, her limbs were freed though. She flailed blindly, her weakness startling her.
A strong purr sounded near by and she turned her head, trying to find the source.
"She's beautiful, Cinderflower," A husky male voice whispered. A cold nose nudged her and she felt the rasp of a warm tongue. She was confused, where was she? Who was this cat? Who was...
Milk. The scent of milk flooded her nose. Mother? Mother! She nudged the belly of the cat she had been nestled against, her tiny paws kneading the soft fur.
The tiny kit mewled pathetically and a soft chuckle answered her. A female voice said, "She's certainly healthy. What will her name be?"
"Cherrykit..." answered another she-cat, her voice exhausted but elated, "My baby."
But her name Rowanclaw...she was from Riverclan? Wasn't she? She struggled to hold on to the thought but it was slipping from her, fleeting like an elusive mouse. A warm feeling overtook her. She wasn't fading.
No, she was beginning again. Any fear she held about her family faded, and she felt at peace. Soon any memory of Rowanclaw was lost to the small kit. She was Cherrykit, and this was her mother and she was hungry!
