I'M ALIVE.

And…

I HAVE SEEN HAMILTON MY CHILDREN AND ThErE ArE nO wOrDs.

GO WATCH IT. JEFFERSON IS MY CHILD. TURNING OFF CAPS NOW.

Alright; fan-girling finished. Onwards and upwards!

RRs:

Guest: Yeah. Convoluted is certainly one word for it.

Stormbreeze: :P Thanks broski.

I SWEAR TO FRICK IF ANYONE POINTS OUT I SPELLED 'KNIGHT' WRONG I WILL LIGHT MY FRICKIN LAPTOP ON FIRE AND THROW IT AT THEM. CATS DON'T KNOW WHAT KNIGHTS ARE SO I'M IMPROVISING KEH?

Alrighty roo! Next up is Breezy my darling.

P.S. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 500 REVIEWS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ALSO IF WE GET TO 50 FAVOURITES I WILL MELT INTO A PUDDLE LIKE I'M THE WITCH OF THE FRICKIN WEST.

Scarletpaw my child...

Pssssst blue-cough is leukemia.

When Breezy's gettin' all the ladies and you're listening to Womanizer by Britney Spears… hardee har...

Chapter 54.

Breezepaw's jaw hung limply.

"Ehem, sorry what?" he stammered.

"She's pregnant," Morningpoppy repeated.

Yep. She definitely said those words. In that order. They didn't make sense together, like a boulder trying to fit in with a collection of pebbles. Pregnant. Scarletpaw. Is. Scarletpaw. Pregnant. They whirled around his head, taunting his inability to comprehend.

"She's- she's going to have kits?" He stumbled.

"That's what pregnant means, yes," Morningpoppy affirmed.

Breezepaw blinked blankly. Kits. As in; there are kits inside of her. Kits will come out of her and they will grow up. But she hasn't grown up! How can that be?

During this entire interaction, Scarletpaw had simply stared at Morningpoppy. Finally, the optimistic medicine cat turned back to her with a wide smile. "Congratulations. I know apprentices don't usually have kits, but they're quite a way away still. You'll be able to train for at least another moon before you'll have to move to the nursery; perhaps you'll even be a warrior by then!"

Morningpoppy's babbling eddied away like a stream draining into the lake. Silence reigned for another moment, before her voice returned.

"You know, it's not a bad thing that kits are on the way," she exclaimed with fervor. "You would have been to young to remember, but when the blue-cough epidemic swept the Clans, we lost so many cats, and countless others were left alive but unable to continue the line… We need more kits."

"Blue-cough?" Breezepaw frowned.

"It was horrible," Morningpoppy recounted, shuddering. "Every cat, from the strongest warrior to the tiniest kit was defenseless. The chosen few that StarClan spared ran the risk of never having kits, and an entire Clan was wiped out."

Morningpoppy shook her head briskly, brushing it off. "But we mustn't be caught in the past now that a shining example of our future has produced!"
"Wha- oh," Scarletpaw muttered, glancing away. "Are… are you sure?"

"Sure about what? That it's the future?" Morningpoppy giggled. "Of course, dear! Kits don't just not come out!"
"Sure that I'm having kits," the apprentice corrected with a skeptical look. "I haven't exactly… y'know."

Breezepaw flushed, turning away. "Well, I'll just be on my way then…"

Morningpoppy giggled again in that kit-like way. "Quite sure! All the normal symptoms; vomiting, strange urges to eat certain herbs, swelling around the stomach… as sure as I can be! That, or it's something I've never seen before. If everything else is in order, I'm not sure what else it could be…"

Scarletpaw narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

"And even if you haven't properly mated- it's fine to say it, nothing to be ashamed of -these things can still happen. Have you ever shared a nest with a tom you were particularly close to?" Morningpoppy questioned.

Breezepaw died a little inside.

Scarletpaw rolled her eyes, still shaking her head. "No. I'd remember if I had. And besides, I've been in the Clans for too long for there to be any chance it was some cat from my old life. And I'd certainly remember it if it was some cat in my own Clan."

"Even…" Morningpoppy made an incredibly un-subtle gesture in Breezepaw's direction that involved flailing of the front paws and tail.

"No! Of course not!" Scarletpaw said heatedly. "He's a friend."

He breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, he didn't remember ever sharing a nest with Scarletpaw, and certainly not ever actually… But couldn't there still be some kind of chance?

A thought suddenly jolted him. If there is, and it is me… then that would make me the father. Father?! I haven't the slightest idea how to be a father! I don't even know who my own father is and I have no idea how to raise kits!

Panic rose in his chest. "I- I have to go!" he exclaimed and darted out of the den.

Oatpad! Help me! he thought desperately, but if she was watching over him she made no indication. What do I do? Kits?

"Breezepaw! Wait!" Scarletpaw exclaimed, dodging Morningpoppy's feeble attempt to keep her in the den. "We need to talk!"

"I don't know how to deal with kits!" he yelled.

"Calm down you feather-brain!" she shouted back.

His frantic sprinting slowed, then stopped. Scarletpaw stopped behind him with a huff. Breezepaw was breathing hard, but he was ready to run again if she started talking about him taking responsibility for the kits.

"Look; you know it isn't you," she said sensibly, sounding much calmer than he felt. "We've never shared a nest for StarClan's sake. There's no way."

Breezepaw nodded slowly, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. "You're right; you're right. I'm sorry."

"Morningpoppy made a mistake," she stated, her passionate amber gaze drifting up to the sun.

On one paw, he desperately wanted to agree with her. I can't have kits! I'm an apprentice! On the other… if Morningpoppy was really wrong, what does that say about her as a medicine cat, if she can't even tell when a she-cat's not pregnant?

"Maybe," he said doubtfully.

"Either way, they're not your kits, so take a deep breath and get your fluff together," Scarletpaw snapped, her calm facade breaking down.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he repeated, following her instructions and breathing in the damp autumn scent. "Well… if she's not wrong, and you are having kits… then whose are they?"

"They're mine," Scarletpaw said fiercely. "I don't care. If they really are from my past life…"

Breezepaw sighed. He understood that she wanted her privacy, yet it was difficult to talk and comfort her when he knew zilch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked the same question he had asked since the day they had met.

"No, I don't-" her normal reply suddenly petered out. A sob choked her. "Oh, Breezepaw, what if it's true? I ain't ready to be a mother! I dunno what to do with kits!
"Scarletpaw!" Breezepaw was stricken. Her old accent was pouring through her now almost perfect-Clan one, a sure sign panic had overtaken her.. She was having the same reaction he'd had heartbeats ago, only it was worse because she would be the one giving birth. "You're not having kits! It was a mistake!"

She panted, her eyes wide and panicked. "But what if it wasn't? What then?"
"Then we'll make it through," Breezepaw said firmly. "Panicking won't do anything to help. If you really are pregnant, all we can do is wait and train and then you'll move to the nursery and you'll have kits. I'll help you raise them. Even if they're not mine, I don't want any other kit to ever grow up without a father."

Scarletpaw gradually relaxed. "Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right," Breezepaw replied, trying to push the uncertain tremble out of his voice. "But still, you said it yourself. There's no way you're pregnant. So stop worrying!"

"Maybe we should talk about it," the russet she-cat said in a small voice.

"Talk about- talk about your time before WindClan?" Breezepaw stammered, then collected himself. "Yeah! Sure!"

Scarletpaw shuffled her paws uncomfortably, before wetting her lips and delivering a disclaimer in a strangled voice.

"You might not like me very much afterwards," she murmured, eyes downcast.

"I doubt that," Breezepaw replied. "Did I ever tell you the story of me being at fault for the brutal mauling of one of my Clanmates?"

"Ah, no," Scarletpaw muttered, shooting a sideways glance at nothing in particular, then continued. "So… you probably haven't heard of them, but there are a group of rogues living in the twolegs place. They call themselves… they call themselves 'the order of the rust nights'."

Breezepaw nodded, privately wondering what 'order of the rust nights' could possibly mean.

"Torn, for short," Scarletpaw added. "They… their leader is a tom named Willy. He's more vicious than you could possibly imagine… He feels nothing for any cat, not even his own kits. He's made of evil."

With a cold chill, Breezepaw realized why the name was so familiar. The one she was screaming when we first met…

"This tom had a mate named Satin who was almost as awful as he was. Of course, the only reason he had kits was so they could carry on the leadership of Torn, not because he loved Satin or because he wanted kits like a normal tom," Scarletpaw continued bitterly. "These kits were nearly identical, except for their eyes. Their names were Sin and Scar."

Breezepaw nodded, his eyes wide and he braced himself for whatever information had warranted the disclaimer at the beginning of her story.

"These kits… they didn't have a good life, you understand," Scarletpaw muttered. "They were raised by a sociopath and his mate, so… you can imagine. They learned to fight before they learned to speak. Willy turned them into his personal assassins so he could clean his paws of the blood that came with disposing of his enemies. Sin and Scar both had their own specialties. Sin had a way with words that left cats dazed and nodding. I- all of Torn watched her enter a den to speak with the cat heading the rebellion against Willy, and within heartbeats, they would come out looking like they'd been hit with a lakeful of stones. She could… I can't even describe it. She removes them. And then, when they least expected it, Scar would strike."

With the final word, her voice wavered slightly, but she continued.

"She had the strength of a badger and the cunning of a fox, and as far as any cat knew, she felt nothing," Scarletpaw recounted. "She killed so many cats they began to blend together, nothing more than fleas to be cracked between her teeth. Of course, a neck being broken by Scar was nothing compared to those that, for whatever reason, Sin could not charm. Willy had a special place for them."

"What was it?" Breezepaw asked nervously.

"I- I don't think you'd want to know." Scarletpaw's voice had gone from wavering to outright shaking, the rasping noise creeping into it that signalled she was on the verge of a panic attack. "It… I don't want to talk about that."

"Okay," Breezepaw said reassuringly, pressing his side against hers. Beneath her sleek pelt he could feel every one of her bones shaking.

"And… all of Torn was afraid of them. Because of their red pelts and ruthless natures, they became known as the sisters of blood and rust. Only those that knew them well knew their true names. And those cats were either their parents or the next on their hit-lists," Scarletpaw murmured, her tail sweeping the earth agitatedly. "You see, neither 'blood and rust' nor 'Sin and Scar' were their real names."

Foreboding swept over Breezepaw and he stiffened, waiting for her next words.

"What you have to know…" Scarletpaw sighed heavily, blinking at him pityingly. "Sin was short for Cinnamon. And Scar… Scar was short… short for Scarlet."

Breezepaw's breath caught in his throat. He managed to choke out, "So it was you."

"Yes, Breezepaw. I killed all those cats," she replied roughly, and for a moment, Breezepaw was terrified he was about to be her next target, then her amber eyes suddenly filled with tears. "See. There it is. The terror. Every one of them looked at me like that. Every. Single. One. Right before I killed them. But I've changed! Please, Breezepaw, don't you see? I don't- I'm not!"

He shook with terror. She's going to rip out my throat. She's going to snap my neck. He pressed back the panic, breathing hard. No! She's my friend! But… a monster like that…

"What if it's all another lie?" he muttered, his breath speeding to gasps. "I- how can I trust you? Please, Scarletpaw…"

Scarletpaw's fur rose, and her eyes glinted with anger. "Don't you get it? I hated Willy! I couldn't continue! I ran away! Please! You can't push me away too! I'll… I'll have no one…"

Breezepaw faltered. But… what if it's just another trick? She's killed so many cats, she said it herself… Then he tried to step into her paws. But if she's telling the truth and I reject her now…

"Alright," he sighed finally. "I just can't believe… I've known you for so… well, I thought I knew you. I hope I know you."

"You do know me!" she said desperately. "This is the real me! I don't want to be that cat anymore!"

Breezepaw wavered, then his shoulders slackened. "I'm sorry. Alright. Let's- let's just forget about it, okay?"

"That's what I've been trying to do, but cats seem to not like the idea of burying the carrion," Scarletpaw said measuredly.

Breezepaw made an apologetic expression, and Scarletpaw sighed. "Let's just go back to camp."

He nodded gratefully, his mind a whirl of confusion. So. One of my best friends was secretly a murderer. What now?

As they walked back to camp, Breezepaw tried his hardest to ignore the niggling paranoia in his gut that urged him to run before she added him to her extensive collection of victims.

When they returned, the Clan was already preparing to leave for the Gathering. Spottedstar had evidently already given her announcement as when they stepped through the entrance, Jaypaw charged up to them.

"You lucky little dog, you're going to the Gathering!" she exclaimed, before shooting a distasteful look at Scarletpaw. "You're the only apprentice who is. I suppose Spottedstar wanted a real WindClan cat to represent us."

"I'm as much of a WindClan cat as you are, which I would suppose to be the reason Spottedstar didn't invite you either," Scarletpaw said coolly, her tone even and icy.

At that moment, Breezepaw thought he caught of a glimpse of what she must have been like before WindClan. Cold and unforgiving, stalking through the alleys of the twolegs place like she owned them, her amber gaze sharp and menacing. A red shadow in the gloom. He could almost imagine the other rogues cowering as she swept past, ducking their heads to avoid her gaze so quickly they banged their muzzle upon the flat, smooth stone of the twolegs place, desperately praying that it wasn't them or any cat they loved.

Or am I just being paranoid again? he wondered guiltily, Scarletpaw's broken reaction to his altered perception of her flashing through his mind.

As though sensing his thoughts, Scarletpaw shot him a wet-eyed look, before turning and slinking back to the apprentice's den.

I- I'm sorry? He was slammed with confusion. But could she read my mind or something?

"Go on, Breezepaw," Jaypaw said, not meeting his eyes. "I think Palepaw wanted to talk before you left."

"Jaypaw, you shouldn't talk to Scarletpaw like that," he said suddenly. "It's rude, and wrong. It's not blood that makes you a Clan cat, it's loyalty to your Clan. Traitors have been born, and heroes have been rogues."

Jaypaw frowned, still not meeting his eyes. "We know nothing about her, Breezepaw. She could have murdered cats for fun before she joined WindClan."

He figured he probably wouldn't win the argument if he brought up the fact Scarletpaw had done nearly exactly that.

"But she's changed. She's loyal to WindClan," Breezepaw insisted, stepping closer in the heat of the argument.

"You say that, but we'll never know for sure," Jaypaw said coldly. "Go talk to Palepaw."

What's her deal? he wondered, irritation buzzing from his nose to tail-tip. Maybe Palepaw will be more reasonable.

"Palepaw?" he called.

"Breezepaw," she murmured, sidling up to him.

"Uh… hi?" he stuttered, blinking.

"You're going to the Gathering?" she asked casually.

"That's right," he agreed, still uncertain.

"Have… fun," she said slowly, blinking just as slow.

He nodded, his brow crinkling in confusion. What's with her?

They sat in silence, Palepaw searching his face for something, Breezepaw simply staring off into space and making sure his gaze never flicked to Palepaw for even a moment.

"Breezepaw! Are you coming or not?" Spottedstar called.

"Coming!" he shouted back, shooting a not-so-regretful look at Palepaw. "I've got to go, sorry. Can we talk later?"

It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Her whole face lit up, and she smiled widely. "Yeah!"

That's kind of… an overreaction, Breezepaw thought, shooting her a weird glance as he left. But whatever. Glad at least some cat enjoys my company. He thought resentfully of Jaypaw and her issue with Scarletpaw. It's so dumb. Who cares? She's one apprentice, in one Clan. Why should Jaypaw even care? Unless she's jealous… but of what? Even if Scarletpaw can fight well, Jaypaw's the better runner. Scarletpaw gets tired quickly, more like a RiverClan cat would than a WindClan cat. But it doesn't matter, because she's pure WindClan now.

Like a RiverClan cat would. Suddenly, he was locking into the fact that he also tired out quicker than Jaypaw. What if my father was never a kittypet at all? What if he was-

"Breezepaw!" Spottedstar's shout returned.

He scurried after the patrol, looking ruefully back at the fresh-kill pile. I guess there's no dinner for me tonight…

Suddenly, he was nearly carried off his feet by a hard nudge from a cat next to him.

"Yeep! Wait a minute, I thought I was the only apprentice going to the Gathering," Breezepaw said, looking at her and blinking in confusion.

"I'm a warrior, fluff-brain," Leopardheart reminded him wryly.

"Right," he exclaimed, shuffling his paws in embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry, I forgot."

"I nearly forgot until Spottedstar had me sit vigil," Leopardheart replied, looking up at the moon. "I'm going to collapse if I don't get some sleep soon."

"Yeah, what was Spottedstar thinking, bringing you?" Breezepaw said, staring at her in shock. "You were at the battle, so you didn't sleep then, and then you stood vigil, and now you're at the Gathering? Has she got bees in her brain?"

"I insisted," Leopardheart cut in. "I wanted to have my first Gathering as a warrior now, I didn't want to wait another entire moon."

"I guess… but don't you need sleep?" Breezepaw demanded.

"I suppose. I'm not exactly half-ShadowClan," Leopardheart said, winking conspiratorially at him.

"I would hope not," Breezepaw replied, shuddering.

"Hey! What's your problem with ShadowClan?" she teased. "I'll have you know I have a friend in ShadowClan, and she's a very nice cat."

"Oh yeah?" Interest glimmered inside him for a moment. I wonder if Darkpaw knows Leopardheart's friend.

"Her name's Lionpaw," Leopardheart informed him. "Although perhaps she's gotten her warrior name… she's taller than I am, you know, yet she insists she's only ten moons old."

Breezepaw blinked. Isn't that Darkpaw's sister?

"Really? Because I know a ShadowClan she-cat as well, Darkpaw. I think she's Lionpaw's sister," Breezepaw confided. "Apparently I look a lot like her. I don't think we've properly met though."

"You'd like her," Leopardheart told him. "You two are like two flowers on the same bush. She even looks a bit like you, to be honest. Except she has golden eyes, but other than that."

Breezepaw nodded, remembering Darkpaw remark on the same thing. Maybe I should meet this cat, if she's apparently my evil twin. Er, or just regular twin I suppose.

"There's a RiverClan cat that looks like me, too," Leopardheart exclaimed. "His name's Seednose I think. He's got the same sort of speckled pelt. His is more creamy brown, though, like…"

Obviously the realization of exactly who Seednose looked like made Leopardheart's eyes bulge and she immediately silenced herself.

"Like Oatpad," Breezepaw finished softly. "You can say it. She's dead, not possessed or something."

Leopardheart nodded, but said nothing more, glancing away ruefully.

Breezepaw was at a loss for words. Am I supposed to comfort her?! But it's my mother…

They walked to the Gathering, the same silence heavy with unsaid words.

Breezepaw wasn't sure.

Do I go to talk to her? But… The memory of her harsh rejection was still too fresh, too new, it stung too much… But… After the battle, the way she had talked, the way she sat, the way she comforted him… Surely I didn't imagine it…

He dug his claws into the ground, feeling the deep cold surge into him, cooling his anger. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Calm. Calm.

Eventually, his stiff muscles slackened and he breathed a deep breath of fresh air. It's okay. I'll just chat. Like normal. Everything is normal.

But every time he thought of Lightningpaw… her eyes, her voice, her passion…

Normal. Right. He snorted at himself. I'm pathetic.

Longing surged through him suddenly. Why couldn't we just have been in the same Clan? That would have made things so much simpler…

Just the thought of being able to patrol, hunt, train with Lightningpaw made him giddy. I wonder if she's good at hunting. I wonder if she's good at fighting. I wonder… I wonder…

Suddenly, his eyes drifted over to a sight that made him feel like his fur was crawling with ants.

What is she doing? Who's that tom?

The tom in question was sturdy, smoke-gray tom with eyes like the sky at the sunhigh on a cloudy day.

Lightningpaw's eyes sparkled like sunshine on a day in green-leaf at something the tom said. She tilted her head up to him and he looked away bashfully.

Breezepaw's stomach tightened painfully. Rival. But… he was over Lightningpaw? Wasn't he? She was just a kit crush. Of course, she was really very pretty with the silver moon turning her jagged stripes to lightning and her dark brown to the colour of cocoa…

But it wasn't her remarkably lovely pelt, was it? It was those eyes.

His stomach twisted again as Lightningpaw purred softly and flicked the tom with her tail. The way her eyes glowed as she talked to him…

It's not a crush.

The realization hit him like a monster on the thunderpath.

Instead of feeling light and fluffy like he did whenever he talked to her, looked at her, thought about her, he felt steady as a rock in his determination to win her.

Suddenly, a tail was tapping on his shoulder.

He turned to find a remarkably pretty she-cat with the rich scent of the forest rolling off her sleek and gleaming ginger and white pelt. Her amber-gold eyes reminded him of Lightningpaw, though they lacked a certain solemnity and earnesty, instead having a sparkling mischief.

"Hello!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

"Hi?" he squeaked.

"Breezepaw, right?" the she-cat barrelled on before he even had the chance to reply. "My name's Vixenpaw. I'm Lightningpaw's sister."

"Nice to-" his tentative reply was cut off immediately.

"Yes, yes, I know all about you," she continued. "She's told me all about you. You're friends?"
Fighting to keep a glare off his face at the platonic label, he nodded. "Yes. Friends."

Vixenpaw's face split into a sudden grin, looking smug and satisfied.

But Breezepaw's attention was no longer held by the ginger and white 'sister-of-Lightningpaw-she's-told-me-so-much-about-you!'

His gaze had been caught by a pair of intensely golden eyes peering over the shoulder of a certain loathsome gray tom.

His heart raced and he stiffened, breathless. He told himself it was over. He told himself he didn't care. But still… every time she looked at him he was utterly helpless.

The last little inhale was caught his throat like a stubborn piece of fresh-kill. It's over for me… he thought.

"Breezepaw? Hello?" Vixenpaw called, nudging him slightly.

He swivelled his head to acknowledge her. "Yeah?"

She snickered. "Do you like her?"

"NO!" he shrieked immediately.

Vixenpaw blinked at him, cocked her head, then strolled away, looking insufferably smug.

Mouse-dung! What did I just do?! Possibly ruined my own life… he answered himself, panic racing through him.

Then his gaze returned to Lightningpaw. But she was gone. No! Where is she? She couldn't have… did she… Bile rose in his throat and he methodically shredded the ground beneath his claws.

Then he saw her. She was with the same tom- no… not the same tom, Breezepaw realized. That's Wavepaw. She's talking to Wavepaw.

His heart ached. Why won't she talk to me?! I want her to talk to me! But if she would rather talk to Wavepaw and that gray tom…

Then forget her. Bitterness rose inside him. I could hand her my heart and she'd toss it into the lake anyways.

Making up his mind, he strode purposefully towards the ShadowClan area. If she doesn't want to talk to me, then I don't want to talk to her. All he needed was to get better at pretending it was true.

"Darkpaw?" he called uncertainly. Maybe she's not even here. This might have been a dumb idea anyways.

"Breezepaw," her familiar, husky rasp came from beside him.

He started, then turned to her, embarrassment rising inside him. Call myself a cat; can't even scent another apprentice when she's standing right next to me.

"You weren't too badly injured in the battle?" he asked awkwardly, going for aloof and relaxed and sounding like a badger was sitting on his vocal chords.

"No. Not as badly as my opponents," Darkpaw snickered, rolling her eyes at him conspiratorially. "They don't train 'em like they used to."

"You sound like an elder," Breezepaw joked, the comment seeming strange out of her apprentice-mouth.

"I am an elder," Darkpaw replied, then giggled like a kit.

Despite the utter lack of humor in the response, Breezepaw still felt a purr bubbling out of his throat. Somehow, even random comments could be entertaining when she said them.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, feeling his stomach lurch when he remembered that it wasn't all jokes and purrs around her. "So… I saw you fight," he began awkwardly.

"Not bad, eh?" Darkpaw purred.

"Er, well, yes. You're very good… at, er, hurting?" Breezepaw squawked with the smoothness of a mountain.

Darkpaw blinked, then cocked her head. "Isn't that a good thing? Cats have claws for a reason."

"I just- I- you know, the way you were attacking Lightningpaw…" Breezepaw stammered.

Steel flashed in Darkpaw's shadowed amber eyes, and her lip curled, revealing glimmering white fangs. Just as quickly as it came, the reaction relaxed into her normal stance. "She was the enemy; I was only protecting ShadowClan."

"By attempting to slice her open?" Breezepaw inquired, his insides twisting as he thought of Scarletpaw's brutal past. What if Darkpaw ends up the same way?

Darkpaw bit her lip, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry. I was just… you know. My Clan doesn't think I can fight… and it hurts, y'know? No cat believes in me. I didn't really think you were the same way, but maybe… I was wrong…"

Her voice cracked pitifully on the last word and horror and guilt crashed into Breezepaw.

"No! I didn't mean that at all!" he said helplessly. "I- I believe in you! I just think you should maybe apologize to Lightningpaw, is all…"

He trailed off uncertainly as steel slammed over her gaze once more. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but her attack on Lightningpaw was just so vicious…

Darkpaw closed her eyes like she was blinking back tears. Breezepaw's heart wrenched.

"Maybe I should apologize," she said hoarsely.

Breezepaw smiled gratefully. "Good idea."

Then, to his utter shock, she pressed herself against him.

The last of his brain cells fizzled and died.

He could feel her heart beating.

He should pull away now.

He could feel the warmth of her body.

He should run away now.

But he was paralyzed. Coherent thoughts were rather difficult to form, he reflected. Perhaps he should just fall over and stop thinking and maybe sleep for a million moons while he tried to sort out his feelings.

Darkpaw seemed to realize his confusion, and she tilted up to look at him with her big, dark eyes. Tear-filled eyes.

And then she pulled away and ran.

He would never understand she-cats, he suddenly realized.

La fin. Didn't bother with the Gathering, it's irrelevant anyways.

Troublemaker by Olly Murs is LightningxBreeze anthem, I send thee off to listen to it.

ACK DARKXBREEZE IS SO CUTE BUT SO IS LIGHTNINGXBREEZE MY LIFE IS IN CRISIS.

If you're having a crap day, listen to Classic by MKTO, you will feel better.

QOTD: Do you think Lightningpaw's strat of flirting with Rainwater is an acceptable way of doing things? Why or why not?

is low-key becoming a six-grade english teacher

Anyways. See y'all next week my fluffy readers.

~Akila