𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗥𝗦ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ 一 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔷𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔓𝔞𝔰𝔱 [𝟑]

❆☾𑁍𓆱ᥴhᥲρtᥱr 𝟹𝟷𓆱𑁍☽❆

𝙰𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚎

The moon hung bright white and perfectly round in the night sky. A few clouds drifted by, but they were so thin and delicate that they did not obscure the Silverpelt. The water lapped softly against the stepping stones, splashing up drops each time. Today the current of the river was calm, just like Amberhaze's disposition.

She was really happy to finally be chosen for the Gathering again, since she had to stay in camp last moon. Not that she was keen on talking to other cats. Actually, she only liked Willow Island because of its beauty. The huge, majestic willow with the hanging branches in the centre, the rock in front of it illuminated by the moonlight, and also the embankment, made up of a mix of numerous ferns, flower bushes and reeds.

A few cats from MoonClan had already been on the island when RoseClan arrived. No wonder, since they had the shortest route and didn't have to hike down a mountain first. In the past, Amberhaze would have headed straight for them, looking for Swallowfern. Even now, her soft, dark reddish-golden tabby fur tingled with an instinctive desire to see the black she-cat.

I can't think about her any more. Stubbornly averting her gaze from the MoonClan cats, she trotted along the bank vegetation. Swallowfern is gone. Forever. I don't need her anymore anyway.

Amberhaze ran her paws through the damp grass, ignoring the meows of the other cats. Lying to herself was a worse pain than the one caused by claws and fangs. Day by day, the likelihood that Swallowfern was actually dead grew greater. Nonetheless, Amberhaze never wanted to stop keeping her in her heart. Larkwing and I owe our lives to her. Without her, we would be in StarClan now, forever as kits.

With a soft, resigned sigh, Amberhaze slipped through a gap between two bushes. She tried to make her way through the undergrowth as elegantly as possible, but thorns and broken branches clung to her thick fur like little pests.

Amberhaze turned back and forth carefully, taking care not to hurt herself by accident. Oh help, this is so embarrassing! She would love to sink into the ground in shame. Or even better: throw herself straight into the river, sink to the bottom and stay there.

She had finally squeezed herself onto the other side — and immediately stopped in shock.

For, contrary to expectations, she wasn't the only one who had the idea of coming to the shore. Birchpelt crouched at the water's edge, his head turned to Amberhaze.

Her paws were glued to the ground. Come on, say something!

"Hello, Amberhaze," Birchpelt meowed unconcernedly and sat up.

His eyes were green. Light green, to be precise, not a dark shade in the colouring of dry moss in the shadows, as was the case with Larkwing's left eye. By StarClan, had she ever noticed that his eyes were green?