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I had not been an easy birth on my mother. She said that for all that pain, I sure was small. I guess that it's true I never really did live up to my height. I've always been way underweight too, no matter how much I eat. Gemstar would always tell me that I had gotten my height from her and my bony frame from my father, Braveheart. Along with that, I got my pale white fur from her too as well as her bright blue eyes. Mine, she'd say, always looked as big as an owl's.

My name is Pinepaw, and I am a Starclan cat.

It happened not too long ago, so I can remember a lot. My death, that is. I never planned on dying, don't get me wrong, however I did always feel that I was different than the other apprentices. While they had such strong ambitions to be warriors as soon as possible and struggled to make incredibly bold moves to impress the clan, I stayed in the shadows waiting for the next step to come.

It was not as though I didn't have ambitions, however. I was simply content is all. Some said that was because I was the leader's son. "Oh Pinekit," the she-cats would always swoon. "You truly are your mother's son! Just look at that attitude! Such a Gemstar lining!" I used to cock my head when I'd sit outside the nursery as they said such things. I didn't truly understand it until a little before my apprentice ceremony.

Speaking of my apprentice ceremony, I think that was one of the happiest nights of my life.

It was a beautiful sunset, I recall, and my mother had leapt up to the low branch of her tree. She did the proper calling to gather the entire clan to watch my ceremony to become a new apprentice. My goofy father would not shut up long enough, even throughout the ceremony, and constantly hopped through the crowd watching me like a badger.

My sister, Oakpaw at the time, watched me with bright blue eyes that swelled with happiness. She'd been born earlier than me. We were supposed to be twins, however I was too small and so my sister was given life a few moons before mine. Again, it was a strange birth. The medicine cat, Shabbycoat, was so concerned that I would not have made it seeing as how bizarre it was.

After I'd received my final name, Pinepaw, my family gathered around me. I knew it must have token all my mother's strength not to squeal with excitement and snuggle me right in the middle of the ceremony. That theory was confirmed after she tackled me with purrs and licks. "I'm so proud of you!" she mewed, her leader form completely melted off her fur and replaced with the deep motherly tone. "Don't worry," my sister hissed in my ear. "She did the same thing to me after my ceremony."

I rolled my eyes and prepared to move into the apprentice den. I was happy to be out of the nursery and out of my mother's fur. While she would sleep in the nursery at night, to be close to me, she would have to leave me in the care of another queen during the daytime. It was hard enough on her to live her life as the Thunderclan leader, but with a family to care for it must have added stones to her everlasting pile.

My sister had made a very soft nest next to her. It had extra moss and linned with feathers. Downy feathers from a dove, she'd mewed proudly. "I'd caught a young one this evening and plucked them just for your nest!" she mewed. Some of the other apprentices snorted. "Um, thanks." I mewed to her, showing my appreciation. Really I was a bit embarrassed though. It was hard enough that other cats felt we had a sort of special treatment because our mother was the clan leader. I think they only realized that we were all just normal cats after my death...

Ah, how I can still feel those feathers and that soft nest. Of course, here in Starclan we have exquisite nests. But they were not lined with the love and pride that my first nest in the apprentice's den had been.

I had died right in the middle of Oakpaw's training. She was held back some time after my death, as you can imagine. The day I died... It was a strange day come to think of it. It was as though Starclan had already been aware that I would join them for dinner. I felt light on my paws all that day. "Perhaps you should rest." Shabbycoat suggested. "You may have slept too light last night and need some more. We don't need any sick or exhausted apprentices, Pinepaw." He added the last part with haste. "I will be fine Shabbycoat." I called as I went on patrol with my parents and Frostleaf.

We were patrolling the boarder between us and Shadowclan. At the very peak of our territory, where it would have lead to the outside world, a tree had been very creaky and it's roots were half displayed. Yet it still stood. Patrols had concerns about the tree after one very windy night. "It will fall soon enough." My mother said. There was nothing we cats could have done...

However I remember how I felt a need in me to look at things. To breathe in smells and really feel things. "Pinepaw!" Frostleaf spat at me. She was my mentor, and I could tell she was getting very impatient with me. "S-sorry."

"Honestly," I could hear her talking to my mother in a hushed voice. "He's always so good about staying focused..."

"He just doesn't feel well." My mother concluded.

We neared the tree. The scent of rain was in the air and the wind was starting to blow hard. "We should hunt while we're here." My mother stated. "The hunting patrols could use all the help they can get during this season." And with that, we split up. I caught nothing. And when I finally saw something, it was right under the leaning and unstable tree.

I really must have been out of it, because normally I wouldn't go anywhere near it. But I did. I rushed for the little mouse at the root of the tree. "Gotcha!" I mewed with triumph. But I heard something... A slight creak? I couldn't tell...

The last thing I remember was a rough gust of wind and the sound of a harsh slam to the ground. I didn't feel anything. I'd seemed to die on impact. But when I struggled out of the tree, I realized something. I didn't feel hurt. I didn't even remember getting hit by a tree. And that's when I saw the stars in my paws...

My mother screamed, and I saw her petrified face. Her and the rest of the patrol had found their way to my grave. She saw my back paws sprawled out from the tree. "Pinepaw!" she cried. My father starred, his eyes wide with horror. "I'll go get help!" Frostleaf called over her shoulder as she ran back in the direction of the camp. No real need, I thought to myself. I didn't feel bad that I was dead. Really, I didn't even feel agitated that I didn't get to be more of an apprentice or even a warrior at that. But what I did feel bad about was how my clan, and especially kin, mourned over me.

That night, I did attend my own mourning ceremony. My mother could not even utter a mew, and so Shabbycoat said the final words for her. I sat there beside the cat who had come to take me to Starclan, Fallensnow. We sat there as Shabbycoat spoke.

"It is so sad to see such a young life go... He was strong but even more clever. Pinepaw, would have made a fine warrior. It is unfair that he only began his training in the ways of the warrior code... But Starclan's ways are mysterious..."

That's all I can really remember from his speech. What a brave cat, Shabbycoat. I never blamed my mother or father for not speaking the final words. I could feel their sadness flowing through me. And Shabbycoat had practically raised my mother, so he was like kin to me.

My sister was worse though. "Pinepaw..." she'd utter under her sniffled breathing. She was just in the middle of becoming a wonderful warrior too... And I was the reason she couldn't have became one sooner.

Only a few weeks prior, my mother and father welcomed the life of their newest son, Desertkit. He looked more like my father than Oakpelt! Almost and exact copy, I tell you. But, after my death, Oakpelt got paranoid and wouldn't leave the nursery for anything. She wanted to stay by Desertkit's side and not leave for anything. But she did when Gemstar or Braveheart told her to. She did it because she knew that they too were going through a great loss.

I watched over it all. And I felt a tinge of frustration that I could not be there to help them through the tough times. However, I did often speak to Desertkit. He could see me and often would wonder who I was. "I'm your brother." I'd always answer. For a while, he didn't understand that I was dead and only he was able to see me. When Oakpaw told him stories about me, he'd exclaim, "I know that cat! He visits me all the time!" Oakpaw got a bit frustrated, thinking that he thought it was all a joke or that I wasn't talking to her in her dreams.

If you're wondering why I didn't talk to Oakpaw, it was because I didn't want to worry her any further. I still, to this day, don't know if I made the right decision. But finally, I told Desertstorm to send along a message to her. "Oakpaw, Pinepaw says you shouldn't be sad anymore. He want's you to be happy and become a warrior. He says the clan needs you and that he will always watch over you, mom and dad." I remember how she stood in the entrance of the nursery with tears building up in her eyes. She then ran out and told my parents.

I think that cry was what they needed... But now comes a different story. I see trouble happening in the clans. My sister got hurt... And by the tom whom she's falling in love with. I have to do something to stop this! If only I could go back! Oakpaw needs me to protect her, no one else can!

Oh... How ironic all these events are... Just as ironic as the fact that the tree that smashed me was a tall pine...