Windspirit

'''A/N: A classmate of mine died about a year ago from cancer, and this has been floating around for about as long. This is my way of honoring her, I suppose.'''

Flowerpaw and Goldenpaw stood nervously outside Shrewfoot's den, with a thin sliver of moon casting faint light. Their friend Windpaw had stayed with the medicine cat for moons, it seemed. Just when she seemed to be getting better, just when they had begun hoping to train with her like before, she had gotten sick again. Even worse than before, judging by the snippets of conversation between the medicine cat and the apprentice's parents.

Shrewfoot poked his head outside of the fern clump where he slept and kept herbs.

"Come inside," he said quickly. Flowerpaw and Goldenpaw did as they were told, hearts racing.

Windpaw was there, as well as her sister, her parents, and her mentor Smallstar. They all looked tired, ragged, worried.

Windpaw lay in her nest, her fur seeming to hang from her bones. Though her breath came in erratic gasps, her amber eyes still had life in them.

"I wanted," said Shrewfoot in a small, low voice, "to let you stay with her before..." He neither had to nor wanted to finish what he was saying.

Swallowstripe sat down next to her daughter and buried her nose in her fur, grieving too much to speak.

"Mom," said Windpaw softly, "don't be scared. Everyone goes to StarClan eventually." She lay her head down on the nest while all of the cats in the den edged closer.

Her breathing got shallower, more ragged; the tabby apprentice gave a small shudder and was still.

Every cat was dazed from the blow. There was a feeling of falling far and fast into a place no one could see.

"My little sister," croaked Heronfeather. Smallstar raised his head and said simply,

"I, Smallstar, leader of PineClan, ask my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has learned the warrior code and has given up her life for it. Let StarClan receive her as a warrior. Her name will be Windspirit."

"Nothing would be better," said Robinclaw. "We have all admired her strength, her determination. She was as untiring and strong as the wind."

-*-*-*-

"Flowerheart! Goldenlight! Flowerheart! Goldenlight!" called PineClan. Windspirit had been dead for three moons, but her memory still hung over all of the cats, especially those who had been close to her.

As the newest warriors prepared to keep vigil, Goldenlight's mother Briarpelt walked up to them.

"I just wanted to say how proud I am. Both of you will be the best warriors the Clan has seen." She softly went back to the warriors' den.

It was a chilly leaf-fall night, and Goldenlight and Flowerheart couldn't sit still. Suddenly, they smelled a familiar scent and felt a warmth around them.

Flowerheart nudged her friend, unwilling to break the silence. The look in her eyes was wistful, hopeful, mourning.

''Don't worry. I'm still here with you,'' came a soft voice.

Neither of them could speak. Windspirit.