Life 1:11
It'd only been a couple days after the Gathering when Bluestar decided to have a trip to the Moonstone. Usually, this was the event Snakepaw would use to reveal to his current life's friend about his true nature, but since he'd already done so, it was unnecessary for him to attend. In fact, it would prove too risky for Snakepaw anyways given all the signs that he was nearing the end of a life. Instead, he remained in camp with his mentor. Snakepaw watched Firepaw, Graypaw, Ravenpaw, Tigerclaw, and Bluestar depart, unsure if he'd even see them again in this life. By now, Snakepaw was feeling those aches in both his tail and toes now. He knew this was some kind of growing pains, but he never survived long enough to see it completed. Instead, he'd always die first, whether by force or even pure accident. Snakepaw hadn't kept count of how many times he died in Saxum's ritual by tripping and dashing his head on a rock.
Saxum… He hadn't thought of that cat in a long time. He wondered how his companion in eternity was doing. What was Saxum doing now with no cats to record? Did he fade into unthinking silence? Did he tally the seasons as they passed? How did his cycle of watching the ritual tunnels flood and empty differ from Snakepaw's? How did he keep his own sanity? Snakepaw remembered when he first met Saxum. He'd just found a fallen branch free of knots. Snakepaw had silently watched as Saxum peeled the bark from the branch and inspected it for the slightest blemish before seeming satisfied. Then Snakepaw had revealed himself to Saxum. At his appearance, Saxum cut a notch into the branch. It was then that Snakepaw learned of Saxum's passion for recoding history, even if only he could discern what his scratches meant.
Then there was Media, the beast. What was she now without her fear to drive her? How was she handling her isolation? She'd been chasing stars the last time he'd seen her. Was she still following them? Did she even perceive the passage of time? Her cycle was one of the moon, watching it wax and wane. Snakepaw reminisced on a memory of her, back when she was fearful, before she became the beast. He was scarcely more than a kit at the time. Media, despite all we had done before, all her accomplishments, was the definition of a coward. Fear ruled her, and what she feared most was the sun. In darkness she could hide, her companion being the night sky. Snakepaw remembered her teaching him about the great spirits and where they were in the sky. She warmed him on cold Leafbare nights knowing his constitution couldn't handle it on his own. She taught him of the stars, the one thing that gave her bravery.
These kinds of memories sometimes just snuck up on Snakepaw. They may have only been companions of circumstance from One and Three's quest and subsequent 'blessing,' but he still bore fond memories of them. They'd done the impossible. They'd done a feat that feline kind could hardly comprehend despite their own personality flaws and Snakepaw's failing more and more throughout their quest. While that quest had been one of the most challenging of his many lifetimes, Snakepaw often wished to go back to those days, to hear Media tell tales of the stars, to witness Saxon recording our journey on that same branch from when we first met. No, it wasn't worth thinking about. Their group had long ago disbanded. The Media he knew was long gone, now forever chasing those stars. Saxon disappeared into his caves, always scratching, always recording, but never living. Who they were is long dead, but the same could be said of Serpens as well. Gone was the kit who wanted to see the world. Gone was his desire to see one more sunrise, to crest one more hill. The cat who'd fought tooth and claw to last one more day, even one more heartbeat, had long ago departed, trapped in an eternity of seeing that next sunrise, to experience until everything was stagnant. New things had long ago lost their alure. Snakepaw was so tired… tired of continuing on, and yet he continued to trudge on with a kittish smile on his face, denying his reality. He was an apprentice of Thunderclan right now, and that's all he wanted to be.
Snakepaw had hardly realized how long he'd been sitting out just reminiscing of his past when dawn's early light broke the horizon. He blinked with a stupor for a moment, bringing him back to the here and now. It was a new day. There was still more he could do. He stretched out, listening to the sounds of the forest waking up, but something was off. Usually, there'd be more birdsong right about now. This peculiarity roused Snakepaw's curiosity. He trotted towards the edge of camp, listening. Then a scent drifted in, one of marsh and mud. Shadowclan!
"Raid!" Snakepaw screeched out, waking the camp.
Just like that, the camp was plunged into a frenzy of combat. Shadowclan struck with force and brutality. The only warning having been Snakepaw's screech slightly blunted the raid's lethality. Snakepaw fought with all he knew, a blender of claws and teeth. He gave far more than he got, but he was also the one closest to the entrance when the attack hit. Despite all Snakepaw's talent, he was still just one cat. He was driven back at the raid continued, eventually leaping onto the High Rock to limit how many cats could fight him at once. Runningwind saw this and tried to get there to support, but by then it was too late. One Shadowclan cat got a lucky hit, knocking Snakepaw from his perch. He fell, slamming with a sickening thud against one of the smaller rocks below. Snakepaw roused himself from his fall quickly, but there was a visible dip in his chest. He let out a cough that spattered the ground in front of him with blood. Despite this, Snakepaw stayed strong, not backing down or retreating. Runningwind positioned himself to defend his apprentice, but something told him the damage had already been done. Snakepaw was on borrowed time.