Hi!

I've been trying my best to work on this story along with StarClan Forbid - but it's hard ;-;... I know this story is much more demanding/popular, and I'm grateful for that, but SF isn't really getting much publicity; not that it matters, because it doesn't, but I think I may delete that one and post it later, after this series is finished.

Without further ado, here we go with the first chapter of The Yarrowberry Bush!

Regards,

Author xx

Part One : Contribution

- Chapter One -

Her life was far from perfect. Though the Clan claimed she had nothing to complain and be hasteful about, as her mother was the Savior from StarClan, supposedly, and her father was just a claw away from being named the Clan deputy. Fleecefur was an old tom, graying with age with each passing moon; every cat knew that he would retire soon, and almost all the cats wished it to be her father.

From the moment she and her siblings were born, they were showered with praise and adortion. Even Ivystar seemed to like her; and Ivystar, young and proud as she was, never seemed to smile at all since her early moons as leader. But the stresses of new leadership passed, and now Ivystar seemed to purr and smile every chance she got.

The Clan absolutely gushed over her siblings and herself, saying things like, "They'll follow in their parents pawsteps, no doubt!" or "Such fine kits! They know right from wrong like the back of their paws!"

Which, in all retrospect, was entirely true.

But the young she-kit often found herself feeling bad for her denmates, who were born just a moon before she and her siblings. They were the daughters and son of Flamepelt and an unknown tom. Many thought it was a rogue at first; but that was until they saw the pelt of the only tom and youngest kit in the litter. His name was Whiskerkit, and overall, the tom was a joyful bundle of fur. His pelt shocked most of the Clan when he was born, and some cats still look at him as if he's a curse brought down by StarClan.

His pelt was almost identical to Dashpaw - the tom who was tortured for most of his life, and ultimately killed by the voices in his head.

But all she remembered him as was her mother's brother - which made him her deceased and insane uncle.

Cats often spoke silently whenever she, her siblings, mother or father would pass by; she knew - in fact, her entire family knew - that whoever was talking quietly was voicing their opinion about Dashpaw. Insanity was something the Clan wasn't used too, and it left them questioning the fact whether he planned his own death or died by accident.

But she strongly believed that her uncle hadn't made the scars and wounds on his pelt himself; no, he had in fact died of the voices in his head.

There hadn't been a Gathering in eight moons; ever since the death of Flowerstar and Quietstar, the new leaders of RoseClan and FernClan hadn't bothered to stop by to arrange a new Gathering. So, Ivystar settled herself as the only leader to host Clan Gatherings - within her own Clan; she allowed the cats that wished to speak up onto Highstone, where they would share news about prey, borders, or anything else they found worth sharing.

Flamepelt, after a short time facing accusations, admitted to being Dashpaw's mate after her mother had killed the Hanging Tree along with Dashpaw's former love, Stoatpaw. The tom had loved her deeply, more so than he appeared to love Stoatpaw - or, at least that's what her mother said. They treated each other like true lovers, and once she annouced to him she was expecting his kits, the tom was immediately asking the medicine cat when she should go into the nursery.

And so now here they were, all four of them sitting out in the moonlight as grass danced between their paws. She sat back in the nursery, watching the ginger-furred mother recieve the cold glares from her Clanmates while her kits ducked their heads in shame.

She wathced the full moon rise to its peak, and Ivystar's call rang around the clearing: "Let all cats that know how to climb gather beneath Highstone for a Clan meeting!"

The young kit blinked for a mere moment, savoring the moment of the full moon; she had never seen one. Thought about them, yes, but had never seen one at such a close proximity.

Her mother's pelt brushed against hers, followed by her siblings'. Her brother, Rustlekit, looked back at her and asked, "Aren't you coming, Spiderkit?"

The said kit nodded meekly, rising to her paws and following her brother out into the darkening clearing. They seated themselves outside the nursery entrance, opposite from Flamepelt and her kits; her father, Spikefang, came to join them a moment later, purring at his mate and kits with love in his green eyes. Whistlebird let out a purr of greeting and rubbed muzzles with him, she and her siblings doing the same while they waited for the Gathering to start.

Ivystar stood proudly at the top of Highstone, her yellow eyes shimmering. Fleecefur stood beside her, wobbling on his paws with his eyes glazed with tiredness and old age. "We gather here tonight under the full moon," Ivystar began, "to discuss anything - if any cat has anything to say, please do not hesitate to do so. This Gathering is for our Clan and our Clan only - no other ears will hear this."

Cats mumbled and muttered amongst themselves, as if they were deciding on what to say. Some threw odd glances towards others at the far end of the clearing, while those who were humble remained fixated on their paws or other cats' eyes.

Spiderkit was shocked to see her father rise to his paws and shout up at Highstone, "Ivystar, if I may speak."

"Of course, Spikefang," Ivystar meowed calmly, seating herself beside a hunched over Fleecefur up on the stone.

Spikefang cleared his throat, flicking his tail behind him as he glanced over his shoulder at Whistlebird. The dark gray queen nodded at her mate, her coral blue eyes blazing; what for, Spiderkit didn't know - but she sensed it was something bad, due to the fact that her own father's eyes were shining with unspoken anger. "I wish to speak for Flamepelt and her kits, along with Whistlebird and my own."

Ivystar leaned forward, her ears pricking. "Proceed, then."

She heard her father sigh, as if centering himself. "We all have experienced life and death in our lives; whether it is a Clanmate or a cat from a different Clan, it doesn't matter - it's still death. We lost one of our own just a few moons ago - a cat that was not meant to die at such a young age...a cat that was not meant to die at the authority of his own mind. We lost him - we lost Dashpaw, and he is never coming back."

Cats's tails drooped, and Ivystar's eyes flashed with remorse yet interest.

"But he's not fully gone - he lives on in the lives of his kits, alongside my own. Dashpaw was a cat that shouldn't have succumbed to the torture he had been through - he shouldn't have died at the mercy of the voices in his head. But the marks on his body, the blood bleeding out of him as he lay on the cold grass that cold leafbare night - that was not his own doing; he did not plan for his death... It just happened to be."

"It hurts," her mother added in, stepping up beside her father. "It always will, really. But I have to live with knowing that I did nothing to save him - to stop him from letting his insanity go too far down, so much to the point where he died. I should have been there - I should have stopped him; I could have done something, but I didn't out of fear of him hurting me or someone I loved. But in the end, it meant nothing; fear didn't control me then as I watched my brother, my own flesh and blood, die right before my eyes. I watched the life pour out of him when I could have done something to help him - if I had, perhaps he'd still be here."

"But he's not," muttered a dark ginger tom; Spiderkit recognized him as the new warrior Redfire.

Whistlebird turned towards him, her fur bristling. "I know that," she said sharply, "and I have to live with knowing that every day of my life, while warriors like you sit around and do nothing but mutter and trash talk about him as if he were a horrible cat!"

"He was. He loved a Dark Forest cat - he loved a murderer." Redfire objected.

"My brother loved her for a short while - but he loved Flamepelt more than he had ever loved Stoatpaw."

"That still doesn't make it right. Who's to say he isn't a murderer himself?"

Whistlebird hissed at the tom, her ears flat to her head. Spiderkit recoiled against her siblings, her heart pounding; if her mother attacked him, the full moon would disappear. "My brother is not a murderer! Don't you dare say that to me, Redfire!" Spiderkit watched as the dark gray queens eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked as she spoke. "He did wrong, yes - but Dashpaw was no criminal. He loved a cat that killed for the sake of her own sanity - that's wrong indeed, but certainly not worthy of a criminal status. So don't you dare sit there and tell me that Dashpaw, my own brother, is a murderer because - StarClan help me - you don't know anything about him."

She turned and padded back into the nursery, Spikefang, Rustlekit and Jaykit in tow. As her mother passed her, she heard her whisper:

"And neither do I..."

Long? Yes.

Boring? Yes.

Totally not awesome? Yes.

BORING? OH GOD YES.

Regards,

Author xx