First Death

"Wake up! Come on, mouse-brain!"

I nose my mother. She feels really cold, and has a large gash down her side. After fighting the foxes she insisted she was fine. It had been snowing overnight; maybe she went for a walk and her fur went cold. I know my fur, still the soft fur of a kit, is freezing. I don't know why all my Clanmates are standing around her with looks of sorrow on their faces. Surely my mother being injured wouldn't leave the Clan so sad. It's too cold out here for them, anyway. "What are you doing?" I ask them. "She's just got a gash. Get the medicine cat to look at it!" Another queen bows her head. "She's not waking up again," she murmurs softly, sadness in her eyes. "Why?" I ask. "Is she very tired?" The queen licks me over the ear. "She's dead, little one. StarClan is where she lives now." I pull away. "But that's not fair!" I wail. "I want her to live with me! Why can't StarClan let her visit?" The queen is guiding me towards the nursery. "You might see her in your dreams, one day. For now, I will look after you." I struggle away from her grip and run back towards my mother. "Come on, wake up! Stop fooling around! They think you're dead, but you're not, you can't be!" I'm pummeling her cold fur with my paws, but I realise its pointless. The queen grips me by the scruff of the neck and starts carrying me towards the nursery, but this time I don't resist. I take one last glance at my mother. Snow has begun to fall, and small white flakes dapple her pelt like pebbles in a stream. She looks like she's sleeping. But she's not. I hold my head a little higher. I will become the best warrior ever. I have faith in the warrior code. She will be taken care of, and she'll settle as a star in Silverpelt, high above this cold, leaf-bare world.

She's with StarClan now.