Nightcloud.

All cats think I'm mean, abrasive, even aggressive. I won't deny it, I am.

But I wasn't always.

I had loved cats once. More specifically, I loved Crowkit. He liked me then to, maybe not more then friends, but I guess now I'll never know. We would play stupid little games like "Catch the feather" and "Dust bunny dares". We were best friends and I didn't dare admit that the brave shadow-pelted tom-kit had caught my heart, for fear it would jeopardize our relationship.

Like you would expect I became an apprentice before him, being almost three moons older. Our slight age difference strained our relationship, since I was hunting and training most of the day and meeting other cats and learning new things. We made up for it though, in fact it was my hunting that led me to find the place.

The clearing was small and surrounded by trees, awfully near to the Thunderclan border, but it was perfect. The grass was a short vivid green and the birds would sing sweet songs, it was paradise. At night, once I had finished my duties, I would sneak him out of camp and we would meet there. Under the bright stars that shone from the navy blue sky.

Soon he was an apprentice and was a better hunter and fighter then me overall, but I was faster. I could race across the whole Windclan territory without panting a breath. We didn't mind that we were better at different things, if anything it helped us.

It had been leaf-bare when I almost admitted it to him. The cold seeped at our think black pelts which were blowing with the bitter wind. His beautiful dark blue eyes reflected the night sky. He was so perfect, and I found that I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.

But then a fox had come. It was a huge russet creature, with patches that matched the snow. It had swiped a huge paw at Crowpaw, and being the fearless and fast she-cat I am I attacked it shoving Crowpaw out of the way and slicing my claws across the fox's face.

I can still remember the screech of panic and fear that launched from Crowpaw's muzzle as it's head jerked downward. I can still remember The white hot agonizing pain that stuck me. I can remember it all too clearly. Every little detail, like how the fox's slobber mixed with the warm scarlet puddle that now leaked from my neck and the determined look that had filled Crowpaw's beautiful eyes.

In a rage filled ball of dark fur he had attacked it, viciously. It had ran from the swiping claws and sharp teeth, that were both stained scarlet. He had almost ran after it before I had called to him. "Crowpaw" I had said and the horrified and concerned look that filled his eyes gave me the strength to stand.

It took several weeks to recover, but Crowpaw was there for me the whole time, comforting me and telling me what was going on outside my crippled bubble. His sly smirk and daring personality filled my dreams from then on, Dreams of romance and adventure. Not a day went by that he didn't come to see me, both in real life and in dreams.

Then he had left.

It wasn't his fault, he had to help his clan. But several moon-highs passed and I missed him all that time. I had trained and hunted hard, trying my best to be even better for him when he came back.

I won't lie, when he came back I was majorly disappointed. He had entered camp, reported to the leader and then stalked to his den. He hadn't even said hello to the best friend that waited and missed him all this time, me. I shook it off but knew something was wrong. He was obviously sad and closed off.

I had walked into the den and laid down next to him, knowing from experience that if he wanted to talk about it he would. I just wanted to see the cat that I had lost all those moons ago, to comfort him since the mission had so obviously hurt him somehow. I had thought that he would be happy to see the friend he left behind if not as happy as me at least a little glad.

I didn't expect the scathing comments.

The sharp toned, "Go away, Nightpaw. I hate you, why do you think I didn't say hello?"

It had surprised me so I had stood and replied, "I guess I can understand, You want to be alone, I just thought that I might say hello to an old friend."

Then I had tilted my head and said, "But if you need to talk to anyone, your not alone, I'll be close"

He snorted, "Explain why I would want to be close to the clan loner, The clan omega. There is a reason I avoided you."

I had blinked in disbelief. Once. Twice. Then I turned and ran, away from the cat I had almost offered my heart, the cat that had shredded my heart with only a few sentences.

I should have hated him .I really really wanted to, but I couldn't. I love him and I realize that that would never change.

Naturally, I was the only one that noticed his distress. I noticed the small things that all lead up to the little effort he put into it.

I found myself covering for him. Trying harder then ever, staying up night and day, So that I could catch double the prey and do all his apprentice jobs along with my warrior duties.

Then I realized that he was in love.

Not with the king-hearted she-cat that stayed by his side through the thick and thin, but a feisty good-for-nothing she-cat. Sure she was pretty, ok she was beautiful. Also she was in a different clan and was a medicine cat. They say toms always want what they can't have. I guess I found that out the hard way.

Not even a moon later I found out the heart-shattering truth.

That he was meeting her in our clearing. It felt like the world was crashing down around me. Had all those late nights meant nothing to him? Had the fact that we saved each other meant nothing to him? Had the fact that I was helping him despite the harsh words meant nothing to him? Did I mean nothing to him?

After that I was mean and abrasive. I had finally realized that I was a good-for-nothing she-cat. That I was useless and alone, so I defended myself with harsh words.

Some time he had run off with her, leaving his clan and everything else behind. I wasn't surprised. He was a heartless tom. A deceiving manipulative tom.

Then he had returned and asked to be my mate.

His thick glossy black pelt had been groomed and his dark blue eyes had seemed brighter then normal, contrasted by the limp scarlet rose that hung from his sharp teeth. Butterflies had filled my belly and all my old dreams had come rushing back to me.

So I was mildly surprised by the emotionless tone my voice had when I replied, "You know that I will do anything for you. I've always loved you, if this is what you wish, even if you don't love me, Then I will still say yes."

He seemed surprised by my response, "What do you mean you have always loved me?"

A feeling of despair filled me, "You don't have to pretend that all those games we played as kits didn't happen. You don't have to pretend that all those late nights in the clearing didn't happen. You don't have to pretend that I didn't save your life at risk of my own. You don't have to pretend that I didn't so obviously miss you all those moons you were gone. You don't have to pretend that I didn't try to comfort you when you were so upset after you returned. You don't have to pretend that all that prey just happened to run in your direction when you were off. You don't have to pretend that you love me. I got the message, you hate me." I laughed bitterly, "I don't know why I didn't believe you when you told me straight to my face all those moons ago, Maybe it was because I loved you with all my heart."

I had then turned and left him standing there in disbelief.

After that we were mates, acted like we were a happy couple, because that was what he wanted. He wanted someone, no needed someone, to cover his back. So I did the job, as I always had.

Then I had found out that I was expecting kits. Beautiful wonderful souls. I made the mistake of telling him about them. He had pretended to be happy, but I knew that he was lying. From the stricken look of regret that flashed in his eyes. I ignored it though instead offering a half-smile and running to the medicine cat, pretending to be joyful at the fact that I had kits coming, despite the fact that Crowfeather seemed disappointed at the fact.

One of them died.

One of my kits died. Not many people know this. For I didn't want to sympathy. The small bundle of was a beautiful she-cat. She had a sleek black and white pelt that reminded me so of my mother. But then my mother died young so I suppose that it's a bittersweet reminder that nothing goes my way when she died.

My daughter died in my arms with her body shaking like a leaf in the wind and her bright blue eyes that matched Crowfeather's dimming to a dull black. Years later I still think it odd that the kit that died was the one that reminded me of Leafpool and Crowfeather. While the one that survived looked like me and my lonesome.

I still believe it strange that as my blood spills onto the vivid green grass my life actually does flash before my eyes. I also find it odd that it is Leafpool who is desperately trying to slow the blood flow. Her light brown and white fur smeared scarlet.

She is talking to me, telling me that it will be alright. But words are already tumbling from my parched lips, words that I really should be telling my mate or my son. But then they were probably doing something important, Running around with fake smiles and sly smirks.

"I envy you, you know. I have always loved Crowfeather, with all my heart. I would do anything for him, but he doesn't love me. He loves you. You should talk to him, he needs someone to be there for him. Someone to watch his back." I smile slightly as the next words pass my lips, "He always has."

A sudden look of understanding and surprise passes over her features. "I stole him from you, Didn't I? You loved him and I walked in and took him."

"No, you succeeded where I couldn't. You defeated the last of his demons. You should save him again, he is already falling back into despair."

These words effect her. Her eyes widen in distress and panic, her paws pressing harder on my wound. Trying even harder to save my life then before, as if she was losing a dear friend rather then 'the she-cat that stole away her mate'.

I pretend that I don't notice the change, because after all that is what I do best. Better then running and trying to love. The best thing to do now is pretend. For I have to convince this she-cat to protect Crowfeather, One last favor to the handsome tom that stole my heart as a kit. Even at my last moments of life slip away with the dimming of my eyes, I don't ask for herbs to stop the agonizing pain or for the chance for a last goodbye to my son, No I pretend, My last moments being those spent for Crowfeather.

For I always watch his back…

I don't really know why I wrote this, I usually don't write tragedies. I guess I just hate how so many people hate Nightcloud when she didn't do anything. Most of this is AU, yes, but I started writing it with her not knowing Crowfeather at first and it failed miserably. I just don't have the skill to write anything correctly. Anyways, I hope you liked this. Wait, not that you liked that she died but are glad you read the story. Do you like Nightcloud better? Anyways please Review or Favorite or Follow. -Leopardfang