It's Going to be Different Now

Bear was not an oddity in GorgeClan. She was that one cat who did her duties diligently, was always cheerful and was always willing to lend a helping paw or a shoulder to cry on. She wasn't pretty but according to whispers in the clan she was beautiful on the inside. Which was probably why Blazepelt had taken her as a mate, even though she did not have a proper clan name, and he had held a disdain for cats without them.

She was pregnant with his kits. They were overjoyed at the prospect of being parents, of bringing new life to this world.

The russet tabby sat in the leafy shade of the willow tree, somewhat far from their camp, somewhat near to the MazeClanners. She looked down at her well-rounded stomach, pride glowing in her eyes. She already had the names set out for them: a little brown tabby tom, already grabbing at her stomach for milk, who she would name Pinekit; a stocky white molly, equally competitive as her brother, named Frostkit; and a brown and white kitten, not as enthusiastic as his siblings, who would be dubbed Seedkit. She gave a small dreamy sigh, lazing in the warm afternoon sunlight.

All that came crashing down when she caught greencough.

Bear felt like she was dying. Actually, she wished to be dead – it terrible, the feeling of hacking coughs scratching the insides of her throat, the lurching feeling of dizziness, and always, always the fear for the ones growing inside her stomach.

She got better. The kits did not.

Somewhere in Bear's ears, the pained howl from Blazepelt rang in her ears.

From that point on, she and Blazepelt were no longer mates. She was still a permanent queen, but she did not have someone she could love and raise a family with.

IT'S GOING TO BE DIFFERENT NOW

"Bear, aren't you going to eat?"

Bear stared, devoid of emotion, at the limp rabbit that lay at her paws. Next to her, Violet was nibbling at a shrew, and next to the black and white queen was Ducksplash, who glanced at her fellow denmate with concerned eyes. The only other queen, Paleblaze, was out on a stroll, presumably, with her mate Shadowcloud.

"No" was the russet tabby's answer.

"Ish been two moonth sinsh dat debacle," Violet complained, her mouth full of mouse. She swallowed, then meowed, "We get that you're grieving but you have to eat, otherwise you're going to starve to death."

Ducksplash's pale brown paw cuffed the younger queen's ear. "Hush!" she reprimanded sharply.

Bear flattened her ears. She knew that it was no use trying to hold back Violet. Ever since her kits Dahlia, Ravenpaw, and Wrenpaw had become apprentices, the molly had been strutting around camp like she'd become the leader.

Not that Ducksplash was any better. One of the queen's kits, Puddlepaw, was to be the next leader. Another, Hollowpaw, was going to be the deputy. They weren't called the "future of the clan" for nothing.

Bear gave a longing look outside, where Sunbrook was happily organizing patrols with Hollyshade. Sunbrook was a lucky one – after giving birth to Cloverpaw and Snowy, she was allowed to become a warrior instead of being a permanent queen. An exception to the rules because Sunbrook was Hollyshade's friend and a respected cat in the clan.

A mewl broke her out of her thoughts. She glanced over to the latest addition to the nursery. A little tom-kit, whose fur Ducksplash was now rapidly grooming.

"Hold still, Dusk-kit," the queen mewed between strokes.

The black tomkitten gave another mew of protest.

Bear gave a heaving groan, then stood up to pad out. She really couldn't stand to be around these queens, who only ever chattered about their kits. Bear couldn't dream of raising a litter, not when her first died without even being granted a chance at a full life.

"Let all cats of GorgeClan gather!" A yowl from the Highrock stopped her in her tracks. Bear dutifully returned to the front of the nursery, looking up to see the ginger and white leader of GorgeClan silhouetted against the sunlight.

"Not another announcement," Violet muttered. "So soon after he named Puddlepaw as his successor."

Ducksplash flicked the black and white she-cat's ear. "Don't talk with disrespect," she scolded. "Dryblade is one of the best leaders we ever had."

Bear said nothing and simply watched the wiry tom stand tall on the jutting stone.

"Clanmates!" Dryblade called. "Recently we have had MazeClan ruthlessly attack our patrols near the Weeping Willow border."

Hisses of "Yes, that happened" and "I was there – look at this scratch -" and "Good Skies, those MazeClanners are savages" burst out from here and there.

"While none of us were largely injured, we must not stand idly by while those cats without any ethics stomp across our territory," Dryblade continued. "Which is why I wish to marshal our forces to attack the next patrol who dares cross the border."

The gathered crowd burst into caterwauls of assent.

"Yes!"

"Make them pay!"

"They will not come any nearer!"

Bear gave a shudder in the shadows. Next to her, while Violet's ears were pricked and her tail was whipping side to side with anticipation, Ducksplash was uncharacteristically still. The brown tabby did not even bother to reprimand Violet when the molly burst into a call of approval. Bear chanced a look, and noticed that Ducksplash had uncurled her tail from Dusk-kit, who was now blindly pawing through the air for his mother.

Dryblade nodded at all of the faces in the clearing before waving his tail for silence. "However, to attack a force like that, we will need to train. Mentors! You are now required to train your apprentices in the art of battle once every two days. Apprentices should listen to their mentors and learn every single fight technique they are taught – it will save you in battle. Warriors – continue patrolling the borders, but now it is necessary that each patrol consists of at least five members." Dryblade gave a final flick of his tail. "That is all for this meeting."

The howls of approval did not stop until Hollyshade called for patrolling.

Violet gave a purr. "Well, it appears that something is going right for sure!"

Ducksplash said nothing. She got back on her paws and stalked into the den. Bear hurriedly picked up Dusk-kit before following the queen.

"Ducksplash," she meowed through the fur. "Don't forget Dusk-kit."

"Mm?" Ducksplash looked up. "Oh. Yes. Dusk-kit."

Bear frowned slightly, but when Ducksplash nudged her son closer to her stomach to feed, the russet tabby shrugged and returned outside.

What was she thinking? That Ducksplash would forget about her children? Of course a mother would never forget her kits.

Bear's shoulders sagged. Of course she would never forget her own kits.

IT'S GOING TO BE DIFFERENT NOW

Bear awoke in the middle of the night. The russet tabby blinked blearily, turning her head around to see the source of her awakening. A continuous whimpering sound, coming from where Ducksplash's nest was. It was probably Dusk-kit. Bear gave a snort before lying down again. Good skies, this time Bear didn't pity Ducksplash. Dusk-kit was a hungry pawful of a kit. Obviously, the tabby queen would get up to whisper comforting words to the kitten and coax him back to sleep.

But the quiet mewling continued. Bear shook her head, trying to find cohesion in her mind. She looked over to the place where Ducksplash was supposed to be. The moss-and-bracken nest was empty, except for the small tom.

Bear felt as if a lightning bolt had struck the back of her head. She scrambled out of her nest, eyes wild and mind wilder.

Where is she?

She can't have gone too far.

Did she leave without her kit? Then did she take Puddlepaw and Hollowpaw?

Bear somehow made it to the entrance of the camp, despite her muddled inner thoughts. She stumbled out. The moon was weaning, but the light it gave was bright enough to distinctly outline a figure scrambling away in the dark.

"Ducksplash!" At the call of her name, the queen turned around, green eyes wide. Bear ran towards her denmate. "What are you even doing? Actually, what were you thinking? Dusk-kit is crying for his mother!"

Ducksplash shook her head, her eyes wide. "No. Don't follow me. Don't talk to me about my children."

"They're your kits – how can you just leave them behind like they mean nothing to you?"

Ducksplash lashed her tail. "I'm running away because I don't want to see them dead!" she spat.

Bear took a hesitant step forward. "Dead?"

"With Dryblade's actions, they'll be dead within two moons," Ducksplash snarled. The brown tabby queen curled her lip. "Don't you see? Puddlepaw and Hollowpaw are the future of the clan. Dusk-kit – if I took him along with me, he'd die less than a moon later." Ducksplash padded closer to Bear. "I don't want to see my children die in front of me because I was unable to do anything for them."

Bear felt a sudden surge of frustration and fury. "If you're a mother, than you should do something about it!"

"And what? Get accused of being a traitor and die, and then let my kits die soon after, in a battle waged against impossible odds?" Ducksplash shook her head. "I know I'm a coward. But sometimes it's for the best."

Bear unsheathed her claws, pulling at the grass beneath her feet. She couldn't convince Ducksplash out of this, the queen could figure that out clearly. "They're your children, you can't just forget them like they're someone else's offspring!"

Ducksplash nodded. "I know I can't." The brown tabby she-cat's eyes held a glint of sorrow. Bear restrained herself from scoffing. "But this is for the best."

Bear's fur bristled along her spine. A growl rumbled in her throat. "Keep telling yourself that," she snapped. "Keep trying to convince yourself that you're doing this for your kits. But you're not doing this for your kits – your blood, your family – you're doing this because you are selfish and you are afraid of the inevitable."

Ducksplash flinched back at every word, up until the point that the former GorgeClan cat was a few fox-lengths away from Bear. She glared back at the russet she-cat. "Like you wouldn't do the same if your kits were not stillborn!"

Bear nearly shot forward at this. She gave a snarl – "I would have done everything that I could to prevent my kits from being slaughtered!"

But by then Ducksplash had spun around and ran away.

IT'S GOING TO BE DIFFERENT NOW

The next morning, the clan was in a disarray. Ducksplash had disappeared in the middle of the night! Who was going to take care of Dusk-kit? What if any other cats went rogue and ran off?

"I will."

Violet glanced at her. "What?"

"I'm going to raise Dusk-kit," Bear meowed calmly.

Violet gave a snort. "You? How are you so sure that you will be a good mother figure to him?"

Anyone's better than you or Ducksplash. Bear bit back that retort. "I'm sure enough."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Have fun being a mother to that pitiful scrap." The black and white queen's eyes momentarily softened. "Must be hard to lose his mother in such a short course of time."

Bear said nothing, only padded over and picked the wailing scrap of fur up. She lumbered over to her own nest where she settled down, curling her body against the shivering kit.

A blossom of warmth suddenly wove its way through her body. The small tom stopped shivering – he began to purr at the presence of fur pressed against his own, nuzzling at Bear's stomach.

Bear started to purr as well. This young kit did not deserve a mother of the likes of Ducksplash. He deserved something more. He deserved to be loved. And he deserved to be… protected.

Bear curled herself tighter around her new son. She would protect him, she vowed. She would protect him or die trying.

"Are you going to rename him?" The question shocked her out of her mind. She glanced at Violet.

"What?"

Violet's whiskers twitched. "Well, aren't you?" she prompted. "Dusk-kit is too close to Ducksplash's name for my taste."

Bear blinked. To rename her new kit… She looked down at the black tom, who was already kneading at her stomach for milk, mewling loudly. She gave another rusty purr at the sight. She already knew what she would name him.

"Your new name is Pinekit," she murmured to him. She gently nuzzled her son. "Welcome to the world."