Jayfeather's Curse

Chapter 21

With Stream by my side, I thought I could do anything.

It turns out I was very wrong. I couldn't be more wrong.

Walking back to the clan I left when I was a mere kit is messing with my head. I can't help but worry what my littermates and parents, mostly Dovewing, will think when I return with three extra cats, all of us smelling like Shadowclan. The warriors escorting us keep hissing "hurry up", but I can't find it in me to go any faster. Jayfeather has pulled ahead of us, a kit flanking each of his sides. I can hear murmurs as he quietly reassures them, attempting to put their fears to rest. I can't help but feel my heart swell at the sight. He's been such a good mentor to the kits and I can't believe how well he's been able to keep his temper around them. They usually annoy the living Starclan out of him.

Stream nudges my shoulder, attempting to pull me out of my head. I look around and realize that we've stopped walking, understanding that we've arrived at the Thunderclan border. When I scent their border markers, a fresh wave of emotion rushes over me and inhibits my ability to walk.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Afraid your clan won't accept your kittypet friends?" the warrior sneers. "Get out of here!" and with that, he knocks me into Thunderclan territory. Our escorts watch as we slowly venture deeper into Thunderclan, making sure we don't try to re-enter Shadowclan territory. As if that thought crossed any of our minds.

As we slowly make our way through Thunderclan territory, I let my gaze wander around the greenery surrounding me. I forgot how beautiful the forest gets in newleaf, the trees and bushes sprouting after the cold leafbare. Little flowers are pushing their way through the dense underbrush, seeming to say we were waiting for you. I know Jayfeather can sense everything I'm feeling, but I know his feelings mirror mine. His nerves are evident by the way his tail tip is flicking around freely and his head is swinging back and forth, his nose taking in the scenery that his eyes can't.

As I watch this unfold, I again feel my heart flutter for this cat, this stupid, stupid cat that has haunted my mind for the past few moons. He's been one of my best friends since I was a kit, and at this moment, I know that there is nothing that could ever pull us apart. He came to find me after I ran away from the clans, barely older than a kit. He cared for me so much that he risked the entire clan's safety, as well as his position as a medicine cat, to come and find me. I will forever owe him for that because, if it weren't for his bravery and selflessness, I wouldn't be returning with two beautiful kits and the handsome cat I discovered along the way.

As if he can read my mind, Jayfeather drops back to walk beside me, and Stream takes the hint, quickening his pace and calling for the kits to stay with him. His unseeing but omniscient eyes turn to me, a question lingering behind them. I know he sensed my affection for him and, with his nature, was dying to know what catalyzed such a strong feeling.

"Are you okay?" he cautiously asks, as if I'm going to explode at him from this one simple question. I shake my head, trying to come up with the right words to explain the storm of emotions that are trapped inside my head. He senses my uneasiness and keeps quiet, but he strokes my spine with his tail in an attempt to coax the words out of me.

Once I feel like I have enough words to form a cohesive thought, I ask him the question that's been plaguing me this entire time: "Jayfeather," I cautiously start, "why did you come to find me?"

I see the shock written clearly on his face as he tries to process the question. I've definitely caught him off guard, and for the first time in his life, he seems speechless. After he regains his composure, he gives me the answer I've been yearning for.

"You're the closest friend I've ever had."

This is what I've been contemplating the entire journey. Everything similar to this that he's said has been in anger, and the rage that spews from his mouth when he gets angry is about as reliable as a warm day in the middle of leafbare. But, with my feelings validated, I have the confidence to let him in a little bit.