Frostfur was roused from her nap by the sound of Bluestar calling the Clan together for a meeting. She let out a groan and slumped back into her nest, burying her head underneath her paws. The white queen knew it was Clan protocol for her to attend every meeting, but she had no intention of joining this one. She knew exactly what this meeting was for–Bramblekit and Tawnykit's apprentice ceremony. Goldenflower and the rest of the Clan had to be thrilled, and not that Frostfur wasn't happy for her friend as well, but she wasn't in the mood to celebrate much of anything.

"Clanmates, today we will be performing one of my favorite ceremonies," Frostfur heard Bluestar meowing, presumably from her perch on the Highrock. "Bramblekit and Tawnykit have reached their sixth moon, and in accordance with Clan tradition, they will now begin their training as warriors. Both of you, come forward please."

Although she couldn't see what was happening, Frostfur could imagine the two kits padding forward nervously, their eyes darting back and forth. A surge of bitterness welled up in her chest as she recalled her own kits' apprentice ceremony. They had been so proud of themselves that day, promising her that they would be the best warriors in ThunderClan. And for a moment, she had imagined watching her kits grow up into strong, respected warriors of ThunderClan.

But instead, almost everything that could have possibly gone wrong had done just that. First, Cinderheart had been crippled by a monster trying to run after Tigerstar–well, Tigerclaw then–and now Brightheart was permanently disfigured. Even if she managed to recover, she would always be at a disadvantage compared to the rest of her Clanmates. She had been injured protecting Squirrelpaw, and worst of all, Fireheart didn't seem to care. If anything, he seemed to think that Brightheart was to blame.

Granted, Thornclaw and Brackenfur were still perfectly healthy, but Frostfur wasn't about to get too excited about that. Judging by how her life had gone lately, it was only a matter of time until one of them was permanently injured or killed.

Why didn't Squirrelpaw help her? she asked for what felt like the millionth time. Brightheart might still be okay if Squirrelpaw hadn't run away. It's her fault those dogs did this to my daughter. And Fireheart has the nerve to blame Brightheart, not to mention he was completely unsympathetic! How dare he? He doesn't know anything about what I'm going through.

"Bramblekit, from this moment on until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Bramblepaw," Bluestar continued. "Sandstorm, you will mentor Bramblepaw. You did an excellent job with Thornclaw, and I expect you to pass on the same skills and knowledge you taught him onto your new apprentice."

Who am I kidding? Frostfur thought despondently. She knew Squirrelpaw wasn't to blame and that Fireheart did care, but she didn't understand why both of her daughters had been maimed. Why were they being made to suffer such horrific injuries when there were other cats who had done much worse that were still being allowed to live normal lives? For StarClan's sake, Tigerstar had tried to murder Bluestar, yet he had been allowed to become the leader of ShadowClan. There was no justice in the world, none.

"Tawnykit, from this moment on until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Tawnypaw," she heard her Clan leader meow. "Whitestorm, you will mentor Tawnypaw. You have shown yourself to be an excellent mentor and warrior, and I trust you will pass on all you know onto Tawnypaw."

Frostfur closed her eyes as her Clanmates began cheering for the new apprentices. It was easy to picture Goldenflower licking each of her children affectionately over the ears as their new denmates hounded them, eager to show Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw to their new nests. Rainpaw had probably made a nest for Tawnypaw next to her own–everyone could tell the two young mollies were fond of each other. Meanwhile, Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw were most likely bounding around after their mentors, eager to get started with training even though it was nearly sunset.

It's not fair, she fumed bitterly. Why does everyone else get to be happy except for me? Why are my own children out there celebrating? They shouldn't be happy; their sister is hurt!

She shook her head. It wasn't anyone's fault that she couldn't seem to get over Brightheart's injury, but while the logical part of her mind knew this, she still couldn't rid herself of the nagging feeling that her Clanmates should have been more sympathetic to her feelings. But no, they just had to be happy while she had never felt more miserable in her entire life.

The entrance to the den rustled, and Frostfur lifted her head to see Dustpelt, Ravenflight, and Runningwind padding inside. Her Clanmates were talking amongst themselves eagerly, and none of them took any notice of her as they settled into their nests a few tail-lengths away from her own.

"Bramblepaw looks like he'll make a good warrior," Dustpelt meowed. "He definitely has his father's size–or will when he's older–which will be useful in battle."

"Yeah, and fortunately, he has his mother's personality," Ravenflight commented.

"If they have half of their parents' gifts, they'll both make fine warriors," Runningwind meowed. "And Whitestorm and Sandstorm will be good at bringing their talents out. Bluestar and Fireheart chose their mentors well."

Well, it's nice to know that they can at least do something well. A pity they don't seem to know the first thing about keeping their Clanmates safe.

It's not their fault.

Yes, it is.

Frostfur listened in silence as the three toms talked eagerly, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Not that she was going to complain about being ignored, of course. She would much rather have things this way if the alternative meant pretending to be excited over a ceremony that meant nothing to her.

I hate them.

No, I don't.

Finally, fed up with listening to the trio, the white-furred warrior lifted her head and snapped, "For StarClan's sake, if you three are going to sit around gossiping, would you mind going outside to talk? Some of us are trying to sleep here, you know."

The three warriors looked at her indignantly and Dustpelt meowed, "Well, excuse us. The last time I checked, you don't get to tell us where we can and can't have a conversation."

"I don't care," Frostfur growled. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn't care anymore. "In case you haven't noticed, not everyone is in the mood to listen to a bunch of insufferably cheerful idiots. Your wants and needs aren't any more important than anyone else's, so maybe start thinking of others for once."

"Nice idea," the brown tabby sneered. "Why don't you try it out?"

"Let it go," Ravenflight muttered to his brother. "If she wants to be a pain, let her. She'll get over it one way or another."

"Fine," Dustpelt sighed. Turning his head to address Frostfur again, he added, "We'll leave if it makes you happy. But in the future, maybe try considering the fact that just because you're upset doesn't give you the right to be rude to everyone for no reason. For the love of StarClan, Willowpelt's son died and you don't see her acting the way you are. You aren't the only one who's been hurt lately, so stop acting as if you're special."

Frostfur lashed her tail angrily and didn't respond. Turning her head away sharply, she settled back down into her nest and listened as the three warriors padded out of the den. What gave Dustpelt the right to talk to her that way? Who did he think he was? Her Clanmates were all the same. They didn't care that she was hurt; they only cared about themselves.

No, they don't, a voice in her head argued. They just don't spend as much time dwelling on the past.

What's the difference? Frostfur snapped. If they cared, they would be in here helping me.

The world doesn't stop for one cat. Besides, you don't really believe what you're saying, do you?

I don't know what I believe anymore. All I know is that my daughters are both mutilated and there's nothing anyone can do about it. It isn't fair.

Life isn't fair.

Thanks for pointing out the obvious.

Frostfur curled up in her nest and turned to face the wall, hating her Clanmates for having the nerve to be happy and hating herself for the fact that she just couldn't seem to get over it.

So I decided to write a chapter from Frostfur's perspective since she's been going through a bit of a rough time lately. Don't worry, things will be resolved eventually, but she needs to work through her issues first.

On a happier note, Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw are apprentices now! And yes, Tawnypaw and Rainpaw do like each other. Ravenflight will get someone eventually. Probably Smudge? I don't know for sure, but someone.

Thanks for reading!

-TheShadowedWarrior