So, if you didn't already know, this is being edited. A lot. So if you haven't already, check out chap 1, edited as of Feb 19, 2015. Thanks! And I will do review replies, but only to the people who review this second time around. So if your reply was deleted, know that I still appreciate you guys!

Sweetflower0409: Thank you for the review and follow! :)

tawnystripe55: Thank you!

The beginning of her day was perfectly pleasant. There was nothing to indicate trouble in the near future.

But trouble there was.

She woke, as usual, at the assigning of patrols, when Cloudtail's movement stirred her awake. Not that she minded, of course. She loved her mate very much – sometimes, she thought, more than StarClan itself. It was a pleasure to wake up to the familiar sight of a fuzzy, cloud-like white pelt, and the familiar irritated muttering that always accompanied him when he was dragged out of his nest before the sun was up.

She held completely different feelings about the early mornings. It was a time before most other cats were awake. There was only Brambleclaw, the deputy, and the cats who were chosen for patrols. And once those patrols left, the camp was blissfully quiet.

Without the arrival bright golden sun to shed beaming rays on everything, the only light was the faint crimson glow announcing the coming dawn. That was Brightheart's favorite time of the entire day. There was no one out to gawk at her face – for yes, even moons after the incident, there would still be an occasional clanmate caught by surprise at the horrible sight of her torn ear and missing eyes.

But never Cloudtail. That was probably one of the things she loved most about him. Not once did he ever flinch, or gasp, or look away. Instead, he showered her with complements, and not just on her skills. Yes, he praised her hunting, and her kindness, and compassion, and all those things achievable without a particularly comely appearance, but he also whispered to her that she was beautiful. Even with the scars, he would say, she was the most beautiful cat in the clan. Not that she ever believed it, but it was nice to know that there was one cat who would never even think of flinching away. Because the others, they all did.

Of course, his views of her appearance weren't the only reason she loved her mate so. He was strong and talented, courageous and kind. He was absolutely the best mate that any cat could ask for. But his apathy – no, his downright fondness – of her scars was certainly a relief. She felt no bitterness towards her clanmates; how could she, when she herself flinched when faced with her own reflection?

Still, sometimes she needed to be completely alone, in those instances when not even Cloudtail's gentle comfort could sooth her. And Brightheart always found peace in the mornings, where shadows still danced across the ground, and the sky was only colored with streaks of salmon at the horizon.

So it was with a kit-like delight in which Brightheart lethargically followed Cloudtail out, and watched quietly as his patrol left. Judging by the sky's color, she still had a decent amount of time before many other cats would be up. Until then, she was content to sit in the semi-darkness and stare up at the beautiful sky, unbothered by the day's worries.

All too soon, cats began trailing out of the warrior's den – and mentors then impatiently woke the apprentices. Sandstorm, Rainwhisker, Birchpaw… All were never anything but kind to Brightheart, but the mere presence of other cats reminded her of her ear and eye all over again. She hid the sudden emotions behind a gentle smile that was nearly genuine. She made small talk with Leafpool over a thrush. The medicine cat apprentice was of a timid, sympathetic character whom Brightheart got along well with. It seemed that, working as a healer and a connection to StarClan, such matters as a scarred face had ceased to bother the sweet tabby.

However, it was still with slight paranoia that Brightheart observed how every time the she-cat would look at her face, her gaze would dart down to her paws and stay there for several heartbeats. Perhaps it was just Brightheart's instinct to interpret every suspicious action as a judgment of her face, or perhaps Leafpool really was as bothered by it as everyone else. Even Brightheart herself didn't know. The only time she was certain of anything was when Cloudtail was beside her, with endless words of encouragement.

It was with this thought in her head that Brightheart awaited Cloudtail's return from hunting with anticipation and relief. With one part of her conscious, she berated herself for depending so much on Cloudtail – her clanmates really were decent company, and they didn't mean any personal harm, while another part simply ached for his return and for the feeling of true contentment that always followed. Finally, the third part of her conscious felt bad for thinking bitterly of Leafpool, and this was the part of her that attempted to follow the conversation and respond appropriately.

Soon enough, Leafpool trailed away with medicine cat duties to attend to: sorting herbs and the like. Brightheart had never comprehended the appeal; it seemed much more wonderful to explore the forest with freedom, or experience the exhilaration of battle.

Of course, there was a time when Brightheart thought that she herself would be destined for the (to her, it seemed) dull, lifeless job. Medicine cats were greatly honored, but to never feel the rush of a fight… It was in a cat's blood. But, a short time after the incident, Bluestar (the leader at the time), and even Firestar, who was the deputy, Fireheart, at the time, thought that she would never hunt or fight or patrol again, and that she would be better suited as a healer. Bluestar, who's mind had been warped by the betrayal of her formed deputy, shortly before the incident, even renamed her Lostface, just to spite StarClan. But it felt more like Bluestar was spiting her. Could the leader not see how much it hurt every time her new name was spoken? Was Bluestar so far into madness that she no longer cared that the young warrior began to hate herself for being foolish enough to go along with Swiftpaw? Did she not see how broken everything in life felt?

And life did feel broken, until Cloudtail came along. He was the one to restore her shattered, broken confidence. He helped her, guided her, on the path to becoming a warrior. Despite having no experience with such matters, he developed one-eyed fighting and hunting techniques, which finally convinced Firestar to keep her as a warrior, to let her hunt and fight and prove herself once more. Cloudtail gave meaning back into her life, as cliché as it sounded.

The happiest day of her young life had been the day of her once-again renaming. No longer was she Lostface, hideously deformed Lostface, a pitiful, useless creature, defined by her trauma. Then, she was Brightheart. Strong, capable, healed Brightheart, who carried her scars as a mark of bravery and sacrifice, as an unfortunate accident that changed her, and not as a symbol of her defeat and failure to save Swiftpaw, her closest friend.

It was Brightheart who became a ThunderClan warrior to be proud of, and Brightheart who became Cloudtail's loving mate and Whitepaw's doting mother. Lostface was gone forever, and she owed that to Cloudtail. So maybe, Brightheart mused. Maybe it isn't so unreasonable that Cloudtail is my life. My reason for living.

And therefore Brightheart felt no guilt or apprehension at her yearning for Cloudtail's return, even from something such as a hunting patrol, which would only last a half-day, at the very most.

It was with impatience that Brightheart heard the telltale patter of paws on moss that alerted her to the patrol's return – and more importantly, Cloudtail's return. But, strangely enough, there was a new scent that accompanied their arrival. It was the scent of a cat. A cat from outside the clans.

Brightheart's unspoken question was answered when the patrol walked through the thorn barrier, one by one.

Or, she mentally corrected herself, two by two. For each of the cats was carrying a kit, only, it seemed, perhaps a quarter-moon old. First Squirrelflight came into view, then Thornclaw, then Spiderleg. Brightheart waited with bated breath for the last member. There he was –!

Brightheart blinked. Cloudtail wasn't carrying a newborn kit, like the others. He wasn't carrying anything at all, in fact. Instead, he was supporting a fully-grown, cream-colored she-cat, who was leaning quite weakly on his shoulder. The mother of the kits, perhaps?

But why had they been brought to ThunderClan camp?

Again, her question was answered before she could ask it when the patrol members separated. Squirrelflight broke off and hurried into Firestar's den.

To tell him about these strangers, Brightheart realized instantly. Which means they must intend to stay…

Perhaps, she reasoned, the patrol had found a mother and her kits with no place for a home, and had brought them back to camp to figure out a solution. It certainly seemed that way; the she-cat was now being made comfortable in the nursery while Firestar was being told of her.

She could nearly predict the commotion that would follow. First, Firestar would summon the clan and make an official announcement. He would ask the clan their opinion on whether the she-cat and her kits would be allowed to stay. Obviously, some members would make reply in the negative and make quite a fuss: why should she, she won't contribute enough, the clan takes in enough outsiders as it is… Their arguments, Brightheart thought, would be predictable and easily solved. Then, some loyal cat would say the opposite: we need more kits, they can learn, we can't leave them to starve… Again, she could easily predict the points, but they would certainly be enough to sway Firestar. Being a former-kittypet-turned-leader himself, there was barely a choice. So Brightheart expected there to be four (if her counting was correct) new additions to the clan within the day.

Brightheart was surprised and secretly smug when it all played out as she had guessed. Mousefur and Squirrelflight arguing, among others, and Firestar's final decision.

Her only shock was when Cloudtail was called up, just when she expected the meeting to be over.

Her mate cautiously approached the leader, who spoke to him swiftly in low tones. The white warrior nodded, as he was expected to, and the cats finally dispersed as the meeting was ended.

Long overdue, Cloudtail trotted over to her and purred a greeting. Instantly she felt lighter – lighter even than when she had seen him coming back from the patrol – after what felt like forever, she got to be back with her mate. To speak with him, to twine tails; every little gesture, every little moment spent together made her forget the accident, forget Lostface, forget everything.

Those were the times she cherished; the times that made her remember why every moment without him seemed a moment of torture. She felt that she would be happy as long as he was by her side…just as he was now.

"What was that about?" Her question was somewhere between a breath and a purr, a startlingly accurate reflection of her thoughts.

"Oh," he replied, which was a strange way to begin his response, in Brightheart's opinion, unless he was unhappy with whatever Firestar had told him. Which, as was to become apparent, he was. "Firestar asked me to train Daisy – the queen. Teach her about the warrior code and our other customs, and give her some basic training so she can have her place once the kits are out of the nursery. That sort of thing." Then he let out a self-pitying sigh – and Brightheart didn't blame her mate. It was much harder to train an adult cat to hunt and fight, if they hadn't already started learning at a younger age. And it was even harder to instill the clan's rules into a mind that was already filled with wisdom of its own. In short, training her would be a pain.

But then Brightheart remembered his patience with her – how he always helped her try again, even when she stumbled and fell for the twentieth time, not yet used to her impaired vision. She remembered how much he helped her in those desolate days, and felt confident that he would train this Daisy with just as much compassion as he had with her.

Well, maybe not quite as much, she thought with a smirk. I am his mate, after all.

A/N: Ugh. I just can't believe the awfulness of the first published draft of this… anyone who followed/favorited me back then is quite insane… No offense, you know I love you all. :)

But hopefully this version is a little better! Even though half of it is just Brightheart's rambling thoughts and angst about life. But please review!

-Embersky