Shattered v. 2

Lightpaw always kind of figured that Sparkpaw's way of interfering with everything, thinking that he was the best answer for ever problem, would be the end of him.

And so he lay at her paws, his blood already drying and crusting his fur. Behind him sank the sun. Lightpaw could see his heart reflected in it, pumping its last heartbeats and bleeding out into the sunset, never to be seen again.

The clan was in mourning. The son of Swanwing was gone forever. The ray of sunshine. The jokester. The happy-go-lucky guy. Now he there was no one who could replace him. That, Lightpaw agreed with.

Burying her nose into Sparkpaw's fur, Lightpaw inhaled her brother's scent one last time.

It seemed as if the shock of his death had opened up her emotions. It was like in every part of his scent, there was a memory instilled inside it, and deeper down, a feeling.

They were still kits. The feisty little ginger tabby tom and the quiet, small white she-kitten. He liked to caterwaul in his tinny voice with the thunder. She liked to hide behind her mother's body and wait until the storm subsided.

One day, curious, he asked her why she hid when the rain was so fun and inviting.

"I'm scared," was her reply, quiet as a pitter-patter of rain.

"There's nothing to be scared about," he reminded her. "You're gonna be leader one day, and you're not going to be scared of a thunderstorm, are you?" He flicked his tail. "Come on, have some fun with me! It'll be cool, I swear!"

But she refused, claiming that she didn't want to be a burden.

He huffed and puffed in irritation, but he could not shake her.

Lightpaw exhaled slightly before inhaling again. Regret. That was the emotion that came with the scent of water. She regretted not spending more time with that dastardly brother of hers. He had always been a breath of fresh air from all of this jibber-jabber that was clan life, a breath that she should have taken more than she had.

He had regularly visited the medicine den when she'd been hurt. He'd asked if she was alright, and she'd brushed him off like he was a dust particle on her snowy-white fur.

"Lightpaw?"

"Go away."

"Hey, I know you've been feeling down – "

"I said leave."

"And I heard from Risingpaw that you need a laugh – "

"Go!"

"So I came to joke with you."

"I tell you, I don't need the damn help! Get out!"

He left the den in a hurry, his white sister right on his paws. She got a scolding from both Risingpaw and Webwhisker about how she should have stayed put instead of playing around with her brother later on. She had been furious and snapped at the medicine cats. She had to stay in the medicine den for an extra moon for that.

And he'd had the audacity to say sorry!

That dumb, problem-solving furball. That stupid, unthinking vermin – oh wait, had been her.

Lightpaw seethed. Why had she done that? The leafy scent… it reminded her so much of that single time, that one time that she wished that she could turn back and change things. Disappointment of herself. That was the feeling that she felt regularly, and that had festered into rage and fury, sent her lashing out at everyone and everything. Even her brother.

Another inhale sent her spiraling down a memory that had happened a day before.

"Hey, Lightpaw."

She flat-out ignored his mew.

"So, I've been thinking a bit about the heir… thing…"

"Mmph. Good for you."

"I've been kind of thinking that… since Mom's pretty intent on making you the heir, maybe I could be your deputy?"

"I don't need your help. If I become leader, I'm making Ashpaw my deputy, not you."

"You can say that, but you do need help!"

"Excuse me. You need to get some things inside that big head of yours." She rose from her moss nest. "I. Don't. Need. Help. And should I need help, I will not be taking advice from some know-it-all who thinks that all the answers lie with him."

"You're arrogant! And you're really not confident, and you don't know how to control your temper – "

"No, you don't know when to take a hint – "

"You need help!"

"Get out of my face!" she snarled, leaping forward.

He ran out of the den, destroying moss nests as he went.

Fury. That was the last emotion. But this time, the anger wasn't directed at Sparkpaw. It was directed at Lightpaw herself.

She'd been so damn blind. She should have listened to Sparkpaw earlier. If that had been the case, she wouldn't have so many bad memories with him. But what was done was done. All the cats, her mother, the clan's future depended solely on her now.

I will listen to your advice, Sparkpaw, she thought, curling up beside her brother's body. I should have listened to you earlier. I'm so, so sorry.

She was shattered right now. But she would pick herself up, piece by piece. And one day, maybe she could be someone better than she had been.