I'm Sorry

'Did you never call?

'I waited for your call

'These rivers of suggestion are driving me away

'The trees will bend

'The cities wash away

'The city on the river

'There's a girl without a dream

'I'm sorry

Ashspots stood on the bank, looking across the river. His sleek RiverClan pelt easily shed the freezing rain that poured in sheets from the sky, but the wind cut through him like a lion's claws and howled like a dying dream.

Is Goldenfeather even coming? he asked himself. Should I still be waiting?

He searched the far shore for a promising flash of bright fur, but there were only trees shaking in the gale and boulders slick with rain. The river raged and roared, as if it couldn't bear his love for a ThunderClan warrior.

Ashspots remembered the Gathering where he had first met her as though it had never ended. The playful flash in her brilliant eyes, the stories she had told, the warmth she carried with her. His conscience had bothered him about it, but it felt so right to be with her.

He yawned and shook his fur. He'd have to go back soon; he couldn't wait for her anymore, not in this weather.

He dropped a few fish at the fresh-kill pile.

"Took you long enough," grumbled Briarfoot from the warriors' den. "What were you doing staying out so long in the rain? You'll catch your death."

Ashspots ignored the deputy's questions. He was much too used to them. He simply collapsed into his nest and slept.

'Eastern to mountain

'Third party call

'The lines are down

'The wise man built his words upon the rocks

'But I'm not bound to follow suit

'The trees will bend

'The conversation's dimmed

'Go build yourself another home

'This choice isn't mine

'I'm sorry

"Yep, it's whitecough," said Leafpelt apologetically.

It's not your fault, no need to be sorry, Ashspots did not say.

"Some tansy should help with the cough," said the medicine cat. "In the meantime, I'd advise you to stay here with me and rest. In this weather, we need to do all we can to keep it from spreading."

Ashspots's heart sank. Being kept away from Goldenfeather worried him more than being sick, more than the threat of flood that hung over the Clan.

''I didn't see her yesterday, either. What will she think?''

A voice within him answered.

''She'll think you don't care anymore. That you've lost interest, that you've found some other she-cat, one you can love without worrying.''

He needed to get a message to her somehow. But he couldn't do it without giving away his secret or disappearing from camp when RiverClan needed all of its cats. All he could hope for was that he'd be well by the next Gathering, that they both would be chosen to go, that she would accept his explanation wholeheartedly.

Not gonna happen, sneered the voice.

'Did you never call?

'I waited for your call

'These rivers of suggestion are driving me away

'The ocean sang

'The conversation's dimmed

'Go build yourself another dream

'This choice isn't mine

'I'm sorry

The moon hung low and bright in the sky, the picture of promise.

"I'm still surprised at how quickly you bounced back, Ashspots," said Leafpelt. "Even for a young warrior, that was fast."

I had motivation, Ashspots thought. He shrugged.

The clearing at Fourtrees was packed full of cats.

"Looks like we're the last to arrive," he said to no one in particular. He paused on the slope, searching for a particular face.

Goldenfeather was sitting near the edge of the crowd, apart from the rest of the ThunderClan group. Ashspots sat in between her and the RiverClan cats.

"Look, Goldenfeather-"

"Oh, don't you start!" she hissed. His heart shattered. "I waited for you. I waited through the cold, the wind, the rain. But were you there? No!"

"I-"

"You have no idea how much it hurt to wait, just in the hope that you'd finally show up." Her voice sank, the fire in her eyes died. "I really don't care anymore. You can quit trying to see me; just find some nice RiverClan she-cat. It's not going to work." Goldenfeather padded off to sit next to a ThunderClan tom.

"I'm sorry," whispered Ashspots.