A/N: I had so many ideas for this chapter. I kept rewriting it over and over again. I'm not sure I fully like how this turned out, but… here it is. Enjoy.

Cascadeshipping

Mistyfoot x Silverstream

Mistyfoot's fur was slicked back with water as she walked along the bank on the ThunderClan side of the river. Water streamed from her sleek fur, running off in thick droplet trails, marking her path. Though she was extremely close to enemy territory, she felt no anxiety; her pawsteps and scent trail would fade soon, the droplet trail in the sand would dry, and she trusted the ThunderClan deputy, Fireheart, when he said that there would be no patrols from the rival Clan on this border at this time.

She had not traveled far when she stopped tentatively, looking around at the scenery before closing her pain-stricken eyes and lowering her head. The ground at her paws was hard and flat, saturated by the river and unremarkable compared to the earth around it, yet the blue-gray she-cat recognized the significance of the damp, gritty spot immediately. It was not the first time she had visited her friend's grave; she would always know where to find Silverstream's final resting place.

"It's been a while," she murmured, looking down at the sandy ground, "too long since I've seen you. I miss you so much."

Mistyfoot was not sure why she felt so compelled to come here again and again. She missed her friend very much; it had been hard coming to terms with the fact that she would no longer be able to talk to Silverstream every day and every night as she once had. She was also reminded of the silver tabby every day when she trained her daughter, Featherpaw. Both of these were very good reasons, as she often told herself, but she knew there was something else much stronger drawing her to this spot.

"The kits are doing well," she mewed conversationally, as though her friend was there, just beside her. "All of them, yours and mine. Featherpaw's becoming a wonderful fisher already. Dawnkit is about to become an apprentice. Reedkit and Graykit are still a bit young for that, but they're getting more energetic by the day. Mosspelt's helping me look after them when I go out to train Featherpaw, but they're almost too much for us both to handle now."

Mistyfoot let a purr rumble in her throat for a moment, but it quickly died off. She shifted her weight so that she leaned on one paw and then the other, trying to distract herself. She swallowed and went on, "Graystripe caught a huge fish the other day. You wouldn't believe he used to be a ThunderClan cat."

Though her voice was shaky, as she continued her report she felt a sense of calm seep into her, slowly overtaking her nervous body. Mistyfoot realized that she gained some peace of mind from just pretending to talk with Silverstream, but, in a harsh parallel, the more she talked, the more she came to terms with the loss, the more she realized that what she was doing was futile; she would never have her friend back. And so she found herself harking back to the same words, the same questions every time she visited. She could never decide what would be better for her: to struggle and put everything behind her, or to give into her compulsions and continue to come here to be torn apart by guilt.

"I told you before what would happen. Nothing good came of this," she accused, her voice wavering slightly. She blinked and flattened her ears, arguing with herself as she thought of Featherpaw and her brother, Stormpaw; she knew that her words were not completely true. She added, "I know you loved him, but… was it worth it? RiverClan lost you. Crookedstar lost you. I lost you." A shiver ran through her body and she whispered, "And now I can't tell you everything I ever wanted to. You're gone…"

This time, as her words dwindled away, she realized what kept her coming back here to this spot to try to reach out, to mourn: she did not know what had happened to Silverstream after her death. The uncertainty of the situation kept her nervous. She knew that the silver tabby should be in StarClan, hunting with their ancestors for an eternity, but, though she searched the skies every night, she could find no sign that Silverstream had made that final journey. Will StarClan accept her, even after she broke the warrior code? Will they continue to guide her, even in death? Mistyfoot's fur fluffed up for a moment, then flattened in distress as she imagined her friend's spirit wandering, lost forever. If she could just know, without a doubt, that Silverstream was safe, that she was happy…

"I should have been there," Mistyfoot whispered, shaking her head slowly, sadly. "I shouldn't have let you go alone. I shouldn't have let you go at all. Mudfur could have saved you, and then… and then…" Her voice broke off and she fell silent. Her chest was heaving with the effort of staying upright, of keeping her breathing steady over the urge to start sobbing with distress. Finally, she lowered her head and reached a paw out, touching the ground where she felt Silverstream's face would be. "But it was always going to happen. You were meant to die that day." She paused and grief showed in her eyes. "And now, you're… not here."

Please, I need to know just one thing. She raised her head again and looked pleadingly at the sky; the clouds were still, shrouding the sun. Just one question and I'll be fine. Please Silverstream, just let me know that you're okay, that you're safe. Can you even hear me? I need to know…

The wind picked up as she finished, blowing from her own territory, across the river and into the forest behind her. Little waves, carried by the wind, lapped at the shore. Above them, a thin mist formed. Mistyfoot blinked and squinted, her mouth falling open slightly, as the mist crept up the shore, growing thicker and taller as it came closer, until finally she spotted a gleam of sharp green eyes from within it. She gasped, "Silverstream!"

Almost as soon as she had seen them, the green eyes swirled back into the shifting mist, which disappeared a moment later. Mistyfoot's claws extended as she tried to grasp onto the moment. Her own blue eyes searched the bank and the river frantically. Guilt and desperation prickled at her fur. Her breathing quickened. I saw you, Silverstream! I did! I know you're here! Please… please don't go!

A strange sensation crept across Mistyfoot's pelt, both eerily cold and searing hot at once, yet also distinctly tender. She crouched nervously, her eyes wide and fearful. Silverstream?

Peace, Mistyfoot. I am still with you. The blue-gray she-cat's ears shot up at the sound of her friend's voice. The flood of emotions that overcame her at the familiar pitch clawed at her heart. So much longing, so much desire, filled her that she ached to call out, but she found herself too shocked to speak, to even move. And then Silverstream's voice echoed in her mind again: I have always listened to you. We have been friends from the time we were both very young. We are still friends. I still feel the bond we share, and I'm sure you do as well.

Yes, Mistyfoot thought. I do feel it, even though you're so distant. Even though you're…

Dead? Silverstream answered. Friendship can last for more than one lifetime. We, as Clan cats, are blessed to be able to walk the skies for an eternity, waiting for the day that we are reunited with those we were closest to while we still walked the forest territories.

Mistyfoot's eyes dulled at her friend's words. Until you can walk with Graystripe, that is…

No, came the firm reply. Mistyfoot thought she could taste her friend's sadness on the air. I love Graystripe, but I also love you. You are my closest friend, almost like a sister to me. There was a pause. It makes me both happy and sad to know that so many more moons will pass before we walk together again.

Many moons? Mistyfoot thought, awed. She realized that Silverstream would have seen her future. What have you seen? What…

It is not my place to say. Silverstream's voice was laced with a purr. But understand that all that is meant to happen will happen, and I will walk with you each step of the way.

Yes, thought Mistyfoot. Of course, but…

I must go now. The flavor of sorrow penetrated her words now, clipping them off. More strongly, she added, Walk confidently along the path StarClan has laid out for you and know that everything will be right. We will not lead you wrong… I promise.

Mistyfoot felt the air around her stir as Silverstream's spirit departed. She breathed in, then out, then in again and held her breath. She felt her guilt leaving her in waves. The sun above her felt hot again on her now-dry pelt. She closed her eyes, taking in its warmth, then exhaled. She took a single step forward, then another, and another, moving forward until the cold river water soaked her paws. As she slipped into the river and kicked out, she felt energy flowing into her and around her. She swam effortlessly.

We walked together before. We walk together now. And one day, Silverstream, when I join you again, I will walk with you for an eternity. I… promise.