It seems, I have almost entirely forgotten about Sootstream during the last moon, and I only remember her if I force myself to. Still, I hope something like that never happens again. I don't care if I'm more beautiful than the average she-cat, or more innocent than the average Clan cat. I just don't want any other cat to die for me like that.

But if only I could meet StarClan, then tell them how I wish something like that won't happen ever again.

Oh, wait, I forgot. Our medicine cat, Bluefire, said that StarClan always speak in riddles, so I probably wouldn't be able to gain much from speaking to a StarClan cat, anyway.

I cannot imagine what I would do without Oakkit. He's the best littermate any cat could have, really. He really cares, I know he does, and he's always there to listen to my thoughts. I feel heartless in comparison to his sweet compassion that has served me for moons. But I wish I could tell how he feels... if he thinks I'm selfish and heartless.

I wouldn't give up Oakkit for all the prey in the world.

Poor Oakkit.

I hope he thinks I've been kind to him, as well.


I pad into the clearing, the faint sadness, that had clouded my brilliant blue gaze ever since Sootstream died, gone, and replaced by a beautiful shimmer. Oakkit places his nose near my flank, then nudges me a little toward the fresh-kill pile.

"Are you hungry?" I ask him, as he pads toward the heap of prey.

Oakkit shrugs. "Aren't you?"

Only when my stomach lets out a low growl do I realize how hungry I really am. I nod, purring, and bound after my brother, almost charging into the fresh-kill pile if I didn't skid to a halt in time. I nose a vole toward my littermate, and he picks it up in his teeth with a grateful nod. He gets to his paws, waiting, until I pick up a small mouse in my jaws.

Oakkit flicks his tail, pointing toward a widespread oak, which could give moist shade during the hottest days of greenleaf. I follow him, my light blue-silver pelt catching the golden rays of the sun. The two of us settle under the cool shadow of the oak, our tails barely touching.

I lean over the mouse and bite a small chunk of flesh off it.

Oakkit nods toward our father, Graystorm, who pads through the thorn tunnel, three other cats behind him. "If something happens to Darkfire," he mewed, referring to the current ThunderClan deputy, "do you think Graystorm will become deputy?"

"Why do you ask?" I mew, stalling, as I hadn't exactly been prepared for the question.

Oakkit shrugs. "I don't know. Just wondering. I think he has a chance."

"But what about Brightcloud?" I ask, referring to one of the senior warriors, a tabby-and-white she-cat who was always kind to us. "In my opinion, she has a better chance than Graystorm. She's more experienced, for one thing."

Oakkit tilts his head to the left, thinking. "But Graystorm is younger than her, and he won't be retiring for a long time. If Brightcloud becomes deputy, she might retire to the elders' den before Lilystar dies." I let out a short gasp, the cover it up by taking a bite off the mouse. I can't imagine Lilystar dying; she had been leader even before I was born.

She probably has more than one life left... right?

Oakkit stares at me. Apparently, I didn't stifle my gasp in time. "I know you better than you know yourself," Oakkit announces. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just can't imagine Lilystar dying," I mew. "She's been leader before we were born!"

Oakkit buries his nose into my fur, a brief gesture of his brotherly affection for me. "I'm not saying she's going to die soon," he mews. "All I'm saying is... well, every cat dies sometimes. And many of the cats who die are better off in StarClan."

Or the Dark Forest, I add silently. Oakkit and I had heard a tale from the elders a few days before, about a place called the Dark Forest, which, apparently, is where you go if StarClan won't take you. For at least two days after the elders had told me about the Place of No Stars, I had spent much of my time hoping that I would not end up there.

Of course, Oakkit helped me get over it. He told me that your entire life is probably what affects where you go, and that just thinking that you want to go to StarClan wouldn't help. He opens my eyes to see the truth, quite often.

"Skykit?" A massive, red-brown paw waves frantically in front of my face. I blink to see Oakkit, staring at me, a little worried. He has large paws for a five-moon-old kit, but I always tell him that it would help him in battle.

"Yeah?"

"You were in a world of your own," Oakkit mews, purring. "I asked you, who do you think our mentors will be, next moon?"

"Why are you asking me all this?" I snap, a little suspiciously. Then, my gaze and expression softens. He wouldn't hide anything from me. He's my brother, for StarClan's sake. The question is... do I tell him everything?

Of course I do. As much as possible, anyway.

"I don't know," Oakkit mews, and no cat could doubt the innocent honesty behind his words. "I'm just wondering."

"I have no idea," I sigh. "But I wanted Sootstream, if she hadn't died. Now, I hope I get Ashfeather." Ashfeather, Sootstream, and Sorrelflight had been littermates; all three were equally compassionate to me, and since Sorrelflight is in the nursery, I want Sootstream's brother, Ashfeather, as a mentor. He shares the gray-black she-cat's kindness.

Oakkit sighs. "I told you, you need to stop thinking about Sootstream!" There is a pause, and I lower my head to study my paws. "And Skykit, just because Ashfeather is Sootstream's brother-"

"I know what you're going to tell me," I mew. "I know Ashfeather. He's nice, maybe not as nice as Sootstream, but close enough."

Oakkit purrs. "If you say so." After a heartbeat, he adds, "Every cat adores you, Skykit. I'm sure you'll get him as your mentor."

"Really?" I lift my head to stare at him curiously, and I can see the truth shining in his eyes. One of the many good things about my brother is that, at least to me, he's honest; he shares all he can with me, and I do the same with him.

StarClan would have to be really cruel to separate me and my littermate.