Hey, I'm back from my skiing trip! Yay! :D Again, thanks to Hikari Fox for letting me use some of her names! :) I know I haven't put up the summary yet, but I'm still thinking of what to put there. I'm just not good at summaries... :/

Dawnwish112: Awww, thanks! :)

California Rain: Yep, you were the first one to actually read it! :D

irishgirl432432: Thank you! :)

Hikari Fox: It looks like you changed your name! Cool! :) Thanks for giving me so more names, I added them into the Allegiances. You're a big help! :D

SakuraFlutist: Actually, I'm not sure. Like with Everything but Nothing, I'm letting the story play out by itself. :P

Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.

Chapter 2: Decision

His cold amber eyes look down at me, and I feel small and insignificant, like the five-moons-old kit I am.

And then indignation flares up inside me. Why should I feel small? Why should I feel like I'm not worth anything, because he isn't a worthwhile father? Why should I—and Lilackit and Ashkit—be blamed for our mother's death?

I stare back into his eyes, thoughts swirling around my head, and meow evenly, "Hello, Dad."

Birchstep blinks, and momentarily, the spell is broken. Then his eyes harden again. "Hello, Amberkit," he replies.

"Why haven't you come to see us?" I ask innocently, knowing perfectly well the reason. Petalkit, Ashkit, and Tigerkit have now reached us, skidding to a stop when they see my father and I facing off.

The light gray tom swallows visibly. "Well, I haven't had enough time."

Liar. I wave my front right paw at him, putting on a happy pretense. "But you're right here! Why don't you come play with us now?" Discreetly looking behind me, I send Ashkit a sharp look. Join in the act.

Having also inherited Blazepelt's intelligence and intuitive, my brother nods and circles behind Birchstep, taking silent, still steps. Our father is now fenced in by his two kits. "Dad, you can be a StoneClan warrior!" he meows, catching Birchstep off guard.

"I'll be the LeafClan leader," I say, naming my Clan now that Ashkit has suggested StoneClan for Birchstep. The last Clan is CreekClan, and that'll probably be the Clan that Ashkit puts himself in.

As if reading my thoughts, Ashkit says, "And I'm the CreekClan deputy, Ashclaw! It'll be a battle where all of the Clans fight!" Yes, there are only three Clans. Part of the warrior code is that there can't be a two to one battle, for fear of killing of one Clan.

Tigerkit adds that he's the LeafClan deputy—naming himself Tigerflame, which I promptly laugh at and receive a frown—and Petalkit declares herself the StoneClan leader, Petalstar. Now there are four kits staring expectantly at Birchstep.

I sneer to myself. What fun.

Silence. Then Birchstep takes a step back, and says, "I'm sorry, but I don't have time right now." I bound up to him to make up for the space lost and say, with my best pleading look, "But Dad!" Of course, this is all for show.

"I really wanted to play with you!" Ashkit whines, with a gleam in his eyes that only I can see.

Suddenly, our leader, Branchstar, calls out for Birchstep to join the hunting patrol, and I can swear that my father's face suddenly looks a million times more relieved. "See? I have to go now. I'll see you later." He quickly turns and joins the back of the patrol, not looking back while they disappear through the bramble tunnel.

I know we will see him later. But he won't play with us. Not now, not then, not ever.

I pad back to the nursery, politely refusing Ashkit's, Petalkit's, and Tigerkit's invitation to take up the game again. Silently, I curl up at Brightsky's side, feeling the warmth of her body added with Lilackit's and Stonekit's.

She sweeps her tail gently over my back, but doesn't say anything. That's what I love about her—the fact that she'll comfort you when you're sad, but not push you about it unless want to talk. I imagine that Blazepelt would be just the same if she were alive.

Resting my chin on my paws, I stare straight ahead at the blank nursery wall. A ladybug crawls lazily up the dirt wall toward the ceiling, then vanishes through a crack. It's just like how Birchstep sees me and my siblings: an insignificant thing that will vanish, will disappear, just as long as you ignore it and it ignores you.

Why does my father hate me? Why, why, why…? My question echoes in my mind, puzzling every fiber in my being. Blazepelt died because giving birth to us weakened her even further until she did die, but he still has us. He still has me. And yet he chooses to ignore us, chooses to look away while the ladybug crawls through the crack. It wasn't our fault, really. All we did were be born, while she died.

A small frown touches my mouth as I find another reason to be mad at Birchstep. We love our mother too, even though we barely knew her. He isn't the only one who loved her. And yet, we're being blamed for her death. And what's the cause of all of this? Love. Yes, that's right.

The ladybug crawls back through the crack, the outside of the nursery apparently being not interesting enough. Taking wing, it zips through the air and lands on my nose impudently. Interrupting my thoughts, I immediately sit up and bat at it, smacking my face in the process. Having succeeded in annoying me, the spotted black-and-red insect flies upward, escaping my blow, and circles the den. Then it zooms outside to irritate some other unsuspecting cat.

I lie back down with my chin on my paws and my tail curled around my side, reviewing my thoughts. Love is at fault. It's the reason why Birchstep was so heartbroken when our mother died, and it's the reason why he can barely look at us, can't even spare time to play. But what's there to do about it?

Suddenly, there's a pained yowl sounding outside the nursery, and a commotion starts. I figure that the hunting patrol has come back, and jump to my feet to take a look. At the edge of the den, I find that I am right. But there's something else, a surprising factor that I hadn't predicted.

One of our most loyal warriors, Oakpelt, is lying in the middle of the camp. Dead. His mate, Ravenwing, pushes her nose into his bloody fur, keening. She must have been the one who yowled.

The LeafClan medicine cat, Whispersong, is coming out of her den. She stops in front of Branchstar, asking him, "What happened?" She doesn't go over to Oakpelt's side, for everyone knows that it's too late.

"It was a dog," Branchstar said. "We tried to fight it off, but Oakpelt was severely wounded, so we escaped and retreated. On the way here, he died from his injuries." Wails rise up from the assembled cats, Ashfeather and Ivyrain being two of them, as they are his sisters and direct littermates. Ravenwing is still hunched at Oakpelt's side, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Whispersong nods, and turns away to comfort Ravenwing. She says something to the mourning black she-cat, who, after listening, gets to her paws, still sniffling. Whispersong gently guides Ravenwing to the medicine cat den, probably for a poppy seed to soothe her a bit, while Branchstar announces the cats who will sit for the fallen warrior's vigil: Ravenwing, Ivyrain, Ashfeather, Breezetail, and Twigclaw.

I turn away from the scene, and curl up back at Brightsky's side. This time she has no comforting tail stroke for me, for she has fallen asleep and was not awoken by Ravenwing's sorrowful cry. Just as well; I have some new thoughts to ponder.

Ravenwing is now heartbroken, just like my father is. Now another valuable warrior has been lost: to a filthy, smelly dog, no less. It will probably take Ravenwing, along with Ivyrain and Ashfeather, many moons to heal their loss. And what is the cause? Love. Yet again, it is love. And in a split second, I make my decision and seal my heart shut tight.

I will never love.

That's a pretty hefty decision, isn't it? :0 I know those are some deep thoughts and a big decision for a kit to make, but remember, she's almost an apprentice, and has a lot of things affecting her. So I think that's okay. :/

Review, please! :)

~Ponyiowa