Breezetail sighed and he waited for his leaders signal to leave.
She was so frustrating, so righteous, and so ready to believe that the world was black and white. But he knew that the world had gray patches too, that sometimes cats didn't always do the right thing.
The first time he'd met her was on a border patrol and he couldn't understand why she was acting like it was such a big deal.
So what if they were hunting squirrels? Prey is prey it's not like each clan had it's own assigned prey. Right, Shadowclan can only hunt frogs, Windclan can only hunt rabbits, Riverclan can only hunt fish, and Thunderclan can only hunt squirrels. That's just plain stupid. She probably had some righteous ideal about how all the clans should hunt they're prey. She was so ambitious about always being the best and doing the right thing.
She was pretty but she was fierce too. He'd seen the way she fought and he admired that about her.
He'd figured out from some old gossip how his father had fallen in love with Feathertail and how he had run away with Leafpool. He knew how he felt now. It's a hard line to walk between two loyalties that were tugging you toward one painful decision. Must have been hard to pick a mate you didn't love in the first place. He felt resentment at Crowfeather but he understood a little better now. Life had been hard on his father and had warped him from an ill-tempered-good-hearted apprentice to an ill-tempered-bitter warrior who was still grieving.
Unrequited love hurt, a lot. At least his father new that the two she-cats he loved loved him back; Breezetail didn't have that kind of luxury. His thoughts drifted toward Hollypelt every time he was picked to go to a Gathering. Has she chosen a mate? Has she changed since that last moon?
All these things stung him like pestering wasps during the whole journey to the island. But he finally made it off the tree trunk he saw her eyes on him and he looked back.
Hollypelt…
