Sweetberry padded over the moor. Her heart ached. "Move along, now, little ones," she mewed. Silverkit made a sound of protest as she nudged him forward. She checked to make sure all three were there. Sweetberry felt a pang of sorrow. It should have been four. She thought of Specklekit, her dark brown form cold and still in the chilly light of the stars. She shouldn't have died. Sweetberry heard Lilykit mewling feebly behind her. Rabbitkit pressed his brown tabby fur against her own creamy golden pelt to warm her. She was almost at the border. And Ripplestrike would be there. Ripplestrike, the cat she loved. Ripplestrike, who's feelings for her were forbidden. Ripplestrike, the RiverClan warrior. Sweetberry slunk forward, heart pounding in her chest. The icy wind ruffled her creamy fur, and she shivered. Sweetberry looked up. The moon was rising. Almost there. She could see the border now. "Are we there yet?" "Yes, Lilykit, we are here," Sweetberry answered her daughter's small meow. The ferns rustled, and a silver tabby tom tom stepped out, bringing with him the scent of fish and the river. Ripplestrike's eyes lit up when he spotted the kits. "They're perfect!" he whispered loudly. "What are their names?" Sweetberry dipped her head towards the kit who was the spitting image of his father. "Silverkit." she mewed. "And Lilykit." The kit who looked just like Sweetberry's sister. Sweetberry sighed. Why couldn't Suncreek forgive her? It wasn't like Sweetberry had asked to be deputy. She had know idea why Harestar chose her over her brave, loyal sister. Sweetberry snapped back into focus. "Rabbitkit." The brown tabby tom who reminded Sweetberry so much of her father, Stormclaw, not in looks, but in spirit. "There was one more. Her name was Specklekit, but she died, under the boulder on the moor. I buried her there." Sadness reflected in Ripplestrike's dark blue eyes. Suddenly, a cry of horror came from the large yew bush that was part of the RiverClan and WindClan border. "Sweetberry! What are you doing!" Harestar stepped out, followed by Featherheart and Pearpaw. His amber eyes were narrowed with fury. "Why are you here?" Sweetberry ducked her head, to terrified to meet his eyes. By the expression on Harestar's broad face, she could tell that he knew very well why. "That's none of your business!" Silverkit sprang in front of her. Ripplestrike lifted him away. "Harestar, I can explain," meowed Sweetberry. Ripplestrike nodded. "This isn't her fault," he growled. Harestar's eyes gleamed with rage. "These are obviously her kits as well as yours," he spat. "Sweetberry, you're a traitor, aren't you?" Sweetberry couldn't speak. She was a traitor, yes. But Harestar didn't understand. Ripplestrike was so brave, so handsome. She couldn't help it. She loved him. "You have served me as my deputy for moons, you convinced me of your unwavering loyalty, you proved yourself a true WindClan warrior. Or so I thought. Sweetberry, I cannot let you return to WindClan," Harestar finished. Horror swamped Sweetberry. Not return to WindClan? But it was her home! She belonged on the moor. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move. "B-b-but Harestar!" Sweetberry got out. "No," Harestar mewed firmly. "Get out of here and never return." Sweetberry looked towards her younger brother for help, but Pearpaw was glaring at her. The ginger tom shook his long fur. "Sweetberry, I thought you were a loyal cat! You were my sister! I trusted you! But your a traitor, and I want you gone!" His words stung, and there was nothing Sweetberry could say in her defense. She hung her head. Where could she go? Could she be a rogue? No, Sweetberry thought. Clan life is the life for me. "Come on Sweetberry," Ripplestrike jumped in. "We're going to RiverClan." Sweetberry looked up. She felt a spark of hope. "But, Ripplestrike! Will Driftstar accept me- will he even accept YOU when he finds out what you've done?" she asked. "Driftstar is a fair cat," Ripplestrike told her simply. "He'll understand. And he won't leave our kits to die." Hmmmmmm. . . . . Sweetberry thought. Driftstar, fair. Memories raced through her mind. Driftstar's claws slicing Heatherspot's ear, him fiercely defending his Clan when two young apprentices strayed across the border, him sinking his white teeth into Featherheart's shoulder, him gloating at a Gathering about a victorious battle against rogues. Brave, strong, dangerous. But fair? Sweetberry decided to trust Ripplestrike's decision. As she turned away, she felt Harestar's amber gaze watching her. She had to go now. "Okay," she replied, her voice cracking with despair. As she padded after Ripplestrike, she took one last look at the moor and tasted the scent of the wind for the last time. "Sweetberry! Come on!" Ripplestrike called. So Sweetberry turned around and kept walking, her kits mewling at her paws. The ground soon changed from soft moorland grass to marshy, peaty soil. Don't look back. Don't look back. Sweetberry couldn't help it. She looked back.
For AshFur_'s CC.
