It's lonely, living in a world that's devoid of a certain ginger furball to brighten up your dull life.

To keep the loneliness from being prolonged, I asked Hollowheart for advice.

Here is a piece of the conversation we shared:

"Planning to antagonize everycat in the clan like your dear father, eh? If you're not, all you have to do is swallow that enormous ego of yours and grovel in the dust. Simple. He'll come to forgive you eventually."

Was it truly that simple?

I pictured Friskpaw's amber eyes -those lively, dancing, mischievous eyes that could be warm with sympathy on one day, shining in excitement on another, and sometimes even brimming with greed as he put his gain first- "One morsel for you, two morsels for me!"

I could not picture his eyes ablaze with fury and resentment. That was because I'd never seen them before, or at least, not directed towards me.

I was in no hurry to see them now.

"…But I don't want to be a groveler."

"Suit yourself. But you'll live to regret it. You'll live to reproach yourself as a moron. It's best to keep on good terms with your clanmates if you can do it."

"You're not exactly on good terms with your clanmates either."

"…Will you have to be so cut up nasty?" Hollowheart had muttered, although he hadn't sounded too earnest in his irritation. The old tom had softened, whether he would like to admit it or not. "Here I am, feeding you what advice you asked for, and now you're trying to pick a fight with me."

"Sorry, Hollowheart, it's just… tough, I guess, losing your best bud. Of course, you wouldn't know, neither would you understand. Which is fine. I guess I just wanted someone to confide to. Because it hurts. More than I thought it would." I was rambling. At this point, I wasn't even sure if I knew what I was talking about.

But perhaps I did. Perhaps this was one of those instants when your logic didn't know one end of the story from the other, but your emotions did.

Hollowheart shifted forward and kneeled down to look at me.

"Let me ask, who exactly is Friskpaw to you?" He asked sharply. "A cat who came and went – as though passerby, drifting in and out from your life? A cat who you'd label as your best bud, but would be outweighed by such trivialities as to your ego?"

I opened my mouth to say something, only to close it. No litany of adjectives would define who Friskpaw was to me. He was just… Friskpaw, that was all.

What was there to say?

I tried to look away , but Hollowheart forced me to meet his gaze.

"If he is to you a half to fill you whole, than you should sort out your priorities, pocket your pride." He said sternly. "You should hang in. Stay connected, partake in each other's joys and sorrows. Fight for him as he'd fight for you. In a dog-eat-dog world, they're powerful stuff, friendships. Much more powerful than you'd think, I expect."

"Hang in? Stay connected?" I repeated incredulously. "I… I can't do those things, not anymore. It's too late. I blew up in his face. And he… Friskpaw didn't say a word under my foot. I took his friendship for granted. Now, I… I think I'm paying for it."

"Karma collects debt, as it's collecting yours, as it's collected mine." Hollowheart's voice was curiously flat as he uttered the last bit. "But life… life is what you make it. Life, Stormpaw, is just one decision after another. And although decisions can't be reversed, they can be made up for. If you don't have the courage to do that, your so-claimed 'best bud' will remain a passerby for life."

"…No." I said slowly, pondering over my thoughts, my words. "Many cats have walked in and out from my life, as Friskpaw has."

"And?" Hollowheart prodded.

"He is the only one who has left his footprints in it. Passerby? I think not. Friskpaw is much more than that."

"…I'm glad you've gotten ahold of your feelings now, kid."

"Yeah." I stood up, making to leave. Then I swallowed and looked at my father in the eye. "Hollowheart… thanks. For your advice, I mean. You didn't have to."

Expressing gratitude was hard.

Something akin to surprise flickered in Hollowheart's eyes, before the corners of his lips twitched. "Good counsel never comes amiss."

I slowly walked away. I heard Hollowheart murmur something from behind me, but it went unheard, for I was too absorbed in my thoughts.

You'd probably know if Hollowheart's counsel did come amiss or not.

Because while expressing gratitude was hard, expressing sorriness was even harder.

…

Two dogs, one frothing at the mouth, the other glaring at us with shifty eyes.

"Give them a wide berth." I said, slowly backing away.

The dogs inched towards us.

"They won't give us a wide berth!" Friskfields looked like a rabbit trapped in headlights; face taut, eyes fearful. It caught me off guard for a moment. From what I knew of him in the past, Friskfields had always been the wisecracker of us two, always happy-go-lucky and grinning, never one to lose his smile. I'd never quite seen him so frightened.

"Just in case I die, Stormcloud," Friskfields said, "I need to sort things out with you." He hesitated, as though it hurt him to even speak of it. "Look, about what happened when we were young…"

"Blast it, Friskfields, you're not going to die!" I growled. "We'll fight through another one yet, you hear me?"

Friskfields looked at me, tension etched on his face, which had been drained of all color and animation. But before I knew it, it… changed. Like a tinged maple leaf and its brazen colors; they would flourish briefly, before fading away. A set expression took on his features, and his amber eyes narrowed into slits as he spoke:

"Sure I heard you, I heard you shovel shit. Hopefully this isn't the 'all bluster no substance' sort of deal, Stormcloud?"

I grinned. "We'll figure out soon enough."

The dogs lunged towards us.

The shifty-eyed dog made towards me. I leapt sideways a heartbeat too late as the full weight of the dog sent me down. It reared over me, licking its chops. I raised my forepaws, trying to fend off the fate of its grisly set of teeth fastening down on my throat. The dog, however, did not even so much as to start as it leaned down, jaw snapping open and close, drool dripping from yellow teeth in quite the bushel that it may as well as just nod off midst combat, right there and then. But again, that had just been wishful thinking. I hooked my claws in the dog's shoulders and, with all my strength, hauled it backwards. The dog regained feet and, growling, drove into me, trying to snap at my throat. I twisted away and swung a blow at its muzzle. If you so wish to know, it did not land. The dog was fast as he was wild on his paws. I could hardly catch him flat-footed.

Meanwhile, as I cast a quick look sideways, Friskfields was battling the other dog, ceaselessly smashing his paws into its flank. The dog, however, was about twice as big as Friskfields and just as strong. It simply let Friskfields rain frenzied attack after attack upon its side.

Just like a predator did. Having its prey cling on to hope, allowing them leeway of survival, only to reveal the truth just as they felt something warm and clammy upon them, that they'd been in its paws of a stadium. That where they'd fought hard had been in a game. That they'd been pissing against the wind.

Now, the dog jumped to its paws, apparently having got bored of the repetition, and reached out. Friskfields was caught by the scruff, and there he writhed, suspended in the air. For some reason, I was vaguely reminded of Flaxpaw, and how he'd writhed the same way when Hollowheart had his way with him.

I abandoned my opponent and barged headfirst into the other dog. The dog fell backwards, and let go of Friskfields. Friskfields heaved himself up to his paws, and I stood in line with him, watching the dogs as they circled us slowly, hunger in their eyes. I could hear the low, guttural growl from their throats. I could hear Friskfields' labored breathing as he stood beside me, and as he turned his head to throw me a brief look of thanks, I could clearly see an unhealthy pallor under his knitted brows. Although he was trying his best to hide it, the squabble with the ShadowClan cats had taken a toll on him, as were the dogs now.

We needed to do this fast.

"I'll take this side, you'll take the other." I said.

Friskfields smiled weakly. "I didn't know you had the tendencies of a leader, Stormcloud. You could be as well a leader as Flamestar."

"Save your breath. Just remember, we have to trust each other on having each other's backs for this."

"My faith has been yours ever since we met each other."

"StarClan, that's disgusting."

"But, " Friskfields said, looking at me, "it's the truth."

We fought, my back against his. And, even though it had been me who had requested trust for each other, I remember sneaking a quick look behind me, just to ensure that I was not in danger. Because I knew that I was playing for heavy stakes, trusting a wounded cat to keep my back safe.

And there he was.

He was a mess, face covered in a macabre web of blood, swathed in clambering streams of sweat. But he did not look scared anymore. He was fighting, clawing and slashing at the dog like he'd never been scared in his life. But then he caught my eye as I had caught his in all my doubt and mistrust, and grinned at me. That same mile-wide grin that I'd seen so many times in the past and had been hoping to see again. And, despite my better judgement, I grinned back at him.

Because for all that we'd gone through, for all the quarrels that we'd had, nothing could change who we'd been when me and Friskfields had been friends, when we had loved each other.

That was when the dog lunged towards my throat.

I tried to shake him off, but it held on, teeth digging into the fur and grazing the skin. I made to gouge at its eyes. It simply reared away. The sheer futility of it, that it may be me who was pissing against the wind now, reduced me to terror because I knew how all prey, those who were at the bottom of the food chain, met their deaths in the end.

"Leave him alone, you wack!" Friskfields screeched.

Utter darkness was a heartbeat away when Friskfields ploughed into the dog, sending it crashing to the edge of the river. I staggered to my paws and made towards the dog, which had already regained its footing and haring away from the steep cliffside that sloped down for the river. Forming a plan in mind, I swiped my forepaws at the dog's muzzle, driving it towards the river. I do not know when exactly Friskfields joined me, but there he was, matching my blow for blow. One blow on my part, one on his. One blow on his part, one on mine.

It was strange, the harmony. Even when we'd been friends, we hadn't exactly been ones to finish each other's sentences.

But I liked this new harmony that we had.

Then came the moment when the dog was tittering on the edge of the cliff.

I clearly remember how its nostrils had been flaring. How fear had showed in its beady black eyes. How it had whined and whimpered, how it had given speech to emotions that I'd never thought that dogs had been capable of.

Had the murderer of my father been in the situation as I was in then? Had Beechshade seen the fear in Hollowheart's eyes as I had seen them in the dog's, and yet had the decency to slit his throat, finish him off?

I pushed the dog off the cliff. I did not stay to see him plunge. I looked at Friskfields. "The other dog?"

Friskfields was leaning down the cliff. He looked at me, a stricken look in his eyes. "The riverbed," He said slowly. "It's dry."

"I don't care. What happened to the other dog?"

"I-I'm not sure. I let it off… with a gash in its side."

"I hope it's dead. Are you okay?"

Friskfields looked away. "Yeah. And you?"

"I'm feeling just fine." I said, although my whole body was aching. "In fact, I'm feeling quite anew, because I've just come up with the most brilliant plan."

"Great StarClan. Don't tell me that we're going to have to sneak off to ShadowClan camp again."

"Nope. We're going back to ThunderClan-"

"I love you, Stormcloud."

"-and then I'm gonna tell Aspenstar to make war with ShadowClan!" I cried enthusiastically, before promptly passing out.

I remember falling to the ground, but for some reason, not quite hitting it.

I remember seeing a cat with fur a strange, off-white shade, the color giving away to a stark white underbelly, kneeling before me and reaching out a paw.

She looked awfully familiar.