Warrior Cats: Sprout || Book One

Chapter Eight

Lily started awake, her flanks heaving and her eyes as wide as saucers in her skull. Her stomach gurgled and she was gripped with the urge to vomit; squeezing her eyes shut, she thrust her muzzle between her paws and groaned, swallowing back sloshing bile. Gooseflesh had erupted along the length of her spine and her pelt prickled with abhorrence. 

Wispy remnants of her vision swirled in her brain like drifting cobwebs. Her nostrils flared; Petalbreeze's sweet scent was still strong in her head. A splitting headache wracked her slim frame and she moaned again as her thoughts spun. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt like a thick dead slug against her teeth. 

My mother... What she showed me... That must have been her backstory. She was driven out, from wherever that was - ThunderClan, they called it - while pregnant, most likely. And then... she had me... And my siblings... They must have all died... 

Grief struck Lily and she was stunned by the weight behind it. She had not anticipated to form such a bond between her kin after only meeting them a few times; especially since the encounters had also all been fleeting and obscure. The brief dialogue forged between Lily and her family had been cryptic and curt, and yet a longing for their appearance reverberated in her chest.

It was Petalbreeze in particular that she had established a tight connection with. Lily could still recall the unconditional love shining in the silver she-cat's eyes as she gazed wretchedly at her offspring. 

No one has looked at me like that before. I guess Luna, Diego and Lucas. But it's different... Diego can be... Diego... Lucas can be quite emotionless. And Luna... I hate to admit it but she can be a little too secretive. I can assume what she's thinking but it would be nice to know every now and then... Petalbreeze on the other hand...

Lily barely knew anything about her biological mother, other than the fact that she had been banished from her home and died soon after, presumably just before or after Lily's birth. But she had witnessed stories in just her eyes. Some of wonder, some of tragedy, some of anger and fear, and some of love. 

Petalbreeze was a volume of secrecy; she was - simply put - a novel begging to be delved into. Lily wanted to curl up beside her and nestle into her flowing coat, and relish the warm against her side. She wanted to be admonished fondly for her faults and mishaps. She wanted to be taken on long walks exploring the community and the neighboring wilds. She yearned to be supplied willingly with knowledge from a cat who had seen the world. She longed to be picked up and cared for when she fell. Not enraged and heartbroken by a certain ginger she-cat. She wanted to have a true mother. 

Well, suck it up, a voice in her head snarled churlishly. You don't have those things. Live with it. At least you're warm, well-fed, and safe for the moment. 

"Isn't my happiness important too?" the tabby kit wondered aloud and stiffened as the floorboards adjacent to her nest creaked ominously. Dust motes spiraled erratically away from the noise.

Lily shifted in her blankets, feeling the plush silks slide against her fur. She slackened her posture and allowed her muscles to go limp, giving the impression of sleep. Her eyes were thin, barely-visible slits in her face; she could still see, but no cat would be able to tell. 

A white six-toed paw stepped daintily in front of her; retracted ivory claws glinted in the moonlight.

Missy? she thought incredulously. What's she doing up at this time? And what's with all the secrecy?

Every one of Missy's steps were calculated and purposely silenced. Her amber eyes were like littles globules of light piercing the opaque blanket of shadow; they lingered on Lily's form and her heart quickened. Does she know that I'm awake?