DISCLAIMER: THE WARRIORS SERIES AND ANY CHARACTERS IN THE ORIGINAL ARCS (Firestar, Spottedleaf, Thunderstar, Riverstar, Windstar, Shadowstar, Mothflight, Ravenpaw, and Barley) BELONG TO ERIN HUNTER AND ANY OTHERS AFFILIATED WITH MAKING THE SERIES. I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO USE ALL THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FANFICTION AS WELL AS ANY OTHERS MENTIONED IN THE DISCLAIMER OF THE ORIGINAL CAVE OF STARS. ALL OTHER CHARACTERS ARE FREE TO USE.
(1) Amberfur
Before the events of The Cave of Stars…
Amberfur felt like she was floating on a cloud.
Larkflight liked her. Actually liked her. She was willing to go as far as to say that he loved her, and if that was true, that feeling was definitely mutual. The mere thought made her squeal aloud, and several of her fellow warriors gave her strange looks. She didn't care. She was so deliriously happy she could burst.
As dusk fell, Larkflight returned from the evening patrol to see Amberfur waiting for him. He licked her tenderly while she gushed about how strong and handsome he was, how lucky she was to have him. He told her he was the lucky one and Amberfur almost screamed, she was so happy. He whispered honey-sweet words to her until they fell asleep in the same nest.
She woke up after the dawn patrol had left and expected it to be a dream but Larkflight was right there with her, smiling at her quiet giggles and leading her outside of the Warriors den, whispering that there was a private place they could go and then nobody could stop them or throw them strange looks. Not that they'd understand anyways, how much she was in love with the most perfect tom in all the clans.
He loved her. And she loved him, forever and ever and ever.
Amberfur was panting, expecting another contraction, but no more came.
"Are there any more?" she asked Birdfeather worriedly.
"No," replied the medicine cat. "Just the she-kit. It's alright; single litters happen all the time. In fact," she said, leaning close to whisper in Amberfur's ear, "I think it's better than having two or three kits. Too much of a hassle."
She returned Birdfeather's laughter and looked down at her one kit. It wasn't the number of kits that was the problem, really. She wouldn't have minded whether she'd had two kits or twelve.
She just wanted a tom.
Larkflight, however, didn't seem as bothered by the gender of their kit as she was, though she'd voiced her opinion on the subject. He began to lick the little kit and it made a squeak, curling towards the source of the warmth and finding Amberfur's belly. As the kit suckled, she was surprised to find that she felt no motherly love.
She felt unhappy, even though she knew perfectly well that the kit had no say in the matter. She felt unhappy and she didn't quite know why.
She shook her head to clear her mind.
"What do you want to call her?" Larkflight asked.
Amberfur looked at her kit, really looked at her, for the first time. It had her fluffy fur, but the color was a light grey. "Silverkit," she admonished, licking the kit awkwardly.
And as Larkflight purred and said just how perfect it was, she couldn't help but feel unhappy again.
"Why can't you love your own kin?" Larkflight had yelled the previous night. The words were directed at her, with the only witnesses being a new moon and any nocturnal animals hiding in the trees around the little clearing where they had gone the morning after Larkflight had admitted his feelings to her. The place had held so many good memories.
Amberfur sighed and shifted in her nest, fighting back tears again.
"Is the fact that your kit isn't a tom so horrible to you?"
She didn't get to tell him more before he left, but she would've told him that she'd wanted a tom because it would always remind her of him, long after he was gone. Silverkit resembled neither of them, but especially not Larkflight, whose fur was white with brown spots. She was also a she-cat, and a very annoying one at that; the other kits in the nursery weren't as nearly as boisterous as her.
It was only then that she realized that Silverkit was gone.
Amberfur would've gone back to sleep. Silverkit would usually sneak into the Warrior's den to annoy the warriors or go bother Hailpaw, Birdfeather's new apprentice, and she would be back. She rested her head against her paws and prepared to get some shuteye before getting interrupted again by Silverkit's return.
Following that thought, a cry of "Papa!" outside drew her attention.
Amberfur quickly stood up and raced out of the den to find a full-grown fox at the center of the camp, jaws snapping at Silverkit. The she-kit was already bleeding badly; and after staggering forwards and barely missing the fox's sharp teeth, she curled into a ball. Foolish kit.
Amberfur was already making up scenarios in her head (she was in no position to defend, it was already too late, so tragic) when a familiar white and brown blur shot out of the warrior's den and attacked the fox just as it was about to bite into her kit.
"Larkflight!" she yelled, and quickly moved to protect Silverkit so as to seem like she had some sort of motherly instinct in her. She watched, horrified, as the fox turned his attention on her mate and delivered a fatal bite to his back, and heard a sickening crunch.
Several warriors heard her scream and came outside to drive out the fox, but it was too late. Too late to save Larkflight. I never even got to say goodbye, to tell him how much I loved him and to apologize, she thought bitterly, and wept openly over her mate's body.
It was only several minutes later that she realized that she should probably take Silverkit to the medicine den, only to find that some cat had evidently already done that for her. She reluctantly abandoned Larkflight to go look for her kit.
Silverkit was more bandage than fur, and Birdfeather worked quickly, dressing wounds, preparing a poultice, and rubbing it into Silverkit's fur. She noticed Amberfur and beckoned her closer.
"It's truly a miracle she's alive," said Birdfeather softly. "She lost a lot of blood from her wounds, but I think she'll survive."
"She's resilient," Amberfur replied, fighting back another bout of tears, "like her father."
"And her mother," added Birdfeather, giving Amberfur a kind smile before going to fetch more herbs.
Her words rang in Amberfur's head. It's truly a miracle she's alive.
If I had such a miracle, if I had a choice, I'd rather it be Larkflight.
Why are you always so happy about his death? Silverpaw's voice, full of accusation and anger, rang in Amberfur's mind. You didn't love him, you never did!
Foolish kit, she thought, laying her head down in the elder's den. Just like the day your father died.
I loved him. And he loved me. I never truly loved you, Silverpaw, and once I regretted that I wasn't the best mother for you. But seeing as you don't love me anyways, perhaps it'll be alright. We're the same, Silverpaw. We both miss him, even if you can't see that I do.
And if my faux happiness hurts you, then I'll put on this façade until the day I join StarClan.