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Sorrelpaw knows he's not going to be the most talented warrior between him and Frecklepaw. His sister, and the only littermate he cares to talk to, is everything he isn't (that is to say, good on her paws, not clumsy, not embarrassing.) Of course, his parents don't say anything. Lightwind is much too nice of a mother to say something that cruel to her sweet, only son. Mosspool is made of sterner stuff.
His father also never says anything, but Sorrelpaw can see the flash of disappointment in his eyes when he looks at him. The slight hesitation whenever he compliments him. Frecklepaw is relished with praise, no one sees her and thinks 'wow can this cat really be a warrior' because she can beat anyone in their group in a spar.
Well, except Poolpaw. But no one can beat Poolpaw.
Sorrelpaw is well aware of his mediocrity, he tries not to let it get him down. For Lilypaw, white, dainty, delicate as her namesake Lilypaw also struggles with training. She's a step too slow, they only cat Sorrelpaw can win against. Every time.
He doesn't brag to her, keep this one cat under him to make himself bigger. No, he knows he can help Lilypaw and she can help him. They are the weakest out of the new apprentices, but Sorrelpaw is okay at the bottom.
He has decent company in his friend, at least. (Her pretty smile doesn't hurt.)
Mistydawn is less happy with her apprentice. She's strict and pushes Sorrelpaw till his pads are sore and his legs feel like they're going to fall off. The she-cat scares him, really. This mentor he's supposed to bond with lingers in the shadow of his mind. Sorrelpaw is used to being a disappointment, but he never likes it.
He just wants Mistydawn to tell her she's proud of him. Like how Sunwing will congratulate Frecklepaw on yet another (perfect) catch. Sorrelpaw longs for this praise he's never known.
But then he looks at Lilypaw, beautiful Lilypaw who would rather sit by his side and watch the bees blow by than lift a claw.
His heart twists, but suddenly the bottom isn't good enough for him. After two moons of training, two moons and nothing to show for it, he wants more. He'll never be the best, but he can be better and isn't it wrong to not let himself have that?
Lilypaw doesn't understand this. He sees her run to Smallfeather in tears. She thinks he hates her, this oldest friend of his. Smallfeather glared at him, for he hurt her only daughter. Sorrelpaw winces, Smallfeather is not her mother but she shares Wolftooth's steely gaze.
Mistydawn whispers in his ear, "Let's go, Sorrelpaw. You have battle training." Lilypaw won't meet his eyes. Can't she understand? But she is soft, feather-light. If you touch her the wrong way she cracks.
Sorrelpaw is afraid he's shattered her.
The unthinkable happens. He improves. He gets partnered to Shardpaw for a hunting assessment and when the she-cat's bulky build is great for swipes and victory, she is not great at catching prey. Sorrelpaw has to chase a rabbit out of a bush into her paws. Shardpaw grins at him, blood dripping from her muzzle after the kill.
Mistydawn says she's impressed. Sorrelpaw thinks he could fly.
He takes the rabbit to Lilypaw. She tried to shirk him off, but he's persistent. He's taller than her now. She'd fit perfectly under his chin if he willed it. (His breath catches in his throat at the thought.)
She doesn't try to run once he blocks her off. She bends down, takes a bite. It's a good sign. Then she leans against him. It's a light touch, Sorrelpaw can barely feel it.
But he understands. Forgiveness.
They're on speaking terms again. Not quite as close as when they were kits, but Sorrelpaw doesn't have many other friends. They've both changed, growing up shaping them. Sorrelpaw is all awkward limbs and bones, still just as clumsy, not quite as put together.
Lilypaw fixed herself neatly after he broke her. She's put together and prim. Older too, and somehow even more beautiful.
(Ivyleaf is staring at Sorrelpaw with the fury of a thousand suns. This tom will not hurt his daughter again.)
With growing up though, came changes. Lilypaw had some new pieces since Sorrelpaw and her had last been close. One of these was a crush on Stormstep. Sorrelpaw didn't understand his dear friend's infatuation with a warrior who had the attitude of a bush of stinging nettles.
Still, he tried to support her. Tried to understand what she saw because he couldn't lose her again. He wasn't Frecklepaw, drifting from cat to cat, challenging them. He couldn't keep up with Poolpaw and her sisters. He didn't have a group. He only had his beloved Lilypaw.
But really? Stormstep? It felt like a mismatch, something that didn't work in his brain. (And that was just due to the spike of envy in his gut, or the way he had to pause because he'd always hoped, maybe he'd be by her side.
Sorrelpaw knew he wasn't deserving of that. He'd left her, and she'd always resent him for it.)
He felt his chest tighten, wanted to find the words to tell her that it was great she was in love. They were bitter on his tongue.
He didn't have time to dwell on his blandness not landing him the girl though, because Poolpaw had passed. His sister's rival, the best apprentice in their group, out like light. Taken by a fox. It was… horrible.
It made Sorrelpaw wonder, with an odd morbid curiosity, if bad things happened more to cats like that. Who threw themselves into everything they did with reckless abandon and never looked back. His sister was like that.
She had skill, talent, but she lacked foresight and Sorrelpaw was afraid it would get her killed too.
(It wouldn't, but he was almost right in the most terrifying way.)
And like that, he stumbles into adulthood, a little more aware of his shortcomings and a little less innocent. Freckledawn flies in, still blazing as the sun. She's going to tear the clan apart one day.
Lilyleap isn't far behind them. She barely passes her assessment, but she earns her name with a sort of causal grace. Sorrelfeather can't look away from her.
(He sneaks out to sit beside her on her vigil. She leans against him, just slightly.)
Sorrelfeather thinks there is a natural step for them, even with Stormstep trying to lay claim to her. He wraps his tail around the white she-cat, thinking.
He can't let Stormstep have her. Hurt her.
But Sorrelfeather doesn't have the ambition to take what he wants. He doesn't know what to do as the gray and white tom he's so scared of snatches her out from under his nose.
She cries, some nights. Because there are times when Stormstep had no time for Lilyleap. Sorrelfeather doesn't understand that, how can one not have time for Lilyleap.
("He loves me," she had wailed into his fur, "He said he loved me."
Sorrelfeather, if he was a braver cat, would have torn him apart.)
Stormstep doesn't like how close Sorrelfeather is to what's his. He's a vicious tom, without his sweet brother to balance him out now. Sorrelfeather would have been much happier if it was Falconhaze Lilyleap had fallen for, but the tom was dead in the ground.
The brown tom has the feeling he's going to be too.
"It's simple really," Stormstep whispers in his ear, "Don't touch her."
He digs his claws into Sorrelfeather's ear, and tears, leaving it in bloody ribbons. The tom can't breath as Stormstep gives a huff of affirmation. Blood trickles down Sorrelfeather's face but he can't- he can't move, he-
He stays away from Lilyleap after that.
Freckledawn asks what's wrong. She demands to know what happened to her brother. Sorrelfeather can't tell her. Stormstep is watching him.
That gaze, that damned gaze, never leaves him.
He's jumpy, uncoordinated on patrols. He can't sleep. Lilyleap… his Lilyleap is with a monster, how…
Someone checks up on him. He expects his sister. He turns around and it's Shellspots. While Stripesong is the gentle, beloved daughter of Sunwing and Shadepelt, her sister is something of a mystery.
Sorrelfeather can only recall she was shy during apprenticeship, normally keeping to herself. Stripesong had been glued to Pinelight's side, getting caught up in the red she-cat's hairbrained schemes against Fernshard.
But Shellspots… he didn't know much about.
"Sorrelfeather, you were telling out in your sleep and-" she gestures to her nest, which is near his. He swallows.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your sleep," he murmurs. She shakes her head.
Then she lays down next to him. He stiffens. "Well, I'm awake now. What's bothering you?"
And just like that, Shellspots unknowingly becomes a buffer between him and Stormstep. The tom is off Sorrelfeather's back because he's spending time with another she-cat.
Not that Sorrelfeather likes Shellspots that way. Sure, she's pretty, with wide amber eyes that soak in his words and a soft golden brown pelt. But they just became friends. Can he really…?
Freckledawn asks him if he's courting her. His sister has always been direct like that. Sorrelfeather doesn't know how to respond, what to say. "Well," Freckledawn looks him in the eyes, "She's liked you since we were apprentices, so I hope you wouldn't lead her on."
And suddenly, that makes so much more sense. But Shellspots, liking him? The idea is balderdash. He's not some grand tom and she's elegant, graceful, kind, and…
Oh.
Sorrelfeather flushes. He doesn't know what to do about this. Shellspots deserves better than him. But he wants her. He doesn't want to lose her.
He asks her if they're courting. The sign of 'Oh, Sorrelfeather…' makes him think he should have realized they already were.
He thinks, maybe his life can be better now. But he's fooled. Sorrelfeather isn't meant to be happy. His best friend is trapped in a beast's fangs. His sister…
Freckledawn was always too reckless. But even he'd think she'd know better, taking two kits out to play where a fox has been in the area.
("I thought I would have been able to fight it off," she sobs, "I didn't mean to. Please… please, I never wanted this…"
It's a shame the clan has no sympathy for kit-killers. Her words fall on deaf ears.)
She's heavily injured, barely surviving the attack herself. No one is concerned about her. The two bodies, small and gray, lay in the center of camp.
His sister is begging, Sorrelfeather hates seeing her like this. But…
Heronfur doesn't have a litter anymore. She's calling for Freckledawn's death. Her kits would have been great, they were descended from the first leader, as was she.
Now they were just cold.
Really, Ashstar's punishment of exile seems like a mercy.
Still, life feels slower without Freckledawn. Sorrelfeather knows she's reckless and dangerous. But she'd cared about him.
And he'd turned his back on her. Just like he'd done with Lilyleap and-
Shellspots presses up against him, chasing away his guilt.
Seasons pass, Sorrelfeather feels cold. He doesn't expect warmth but then… then Lilyleap has her kits.
Two, perfect things. Old feelings rush to him and he pretends their his, just for the briefest of moments. Stormstep is proud for once. He has a son, Frostkit, who will be the strongest warrior in the clan. It seems like a lot of expectation to put on a kit to Sorrelfeather, but he doesn't say anything.
Stormstep would end him if he said anything.
Snowkit looks just like her and Sorrelfeather lets himself have a small private smile. Lilyleap seems happy, so he is happy.
Shellspots wonders when they'll have some of their own. Sorrelfeather doesn't want to rush things. Lilyleap always wanted a family, and this is perfect for her.
He wants things to be perfect for them. Not quite the vision he had as a kit, but he was a lovely mate and she still has lovely kits. That's enough to make Sorrelfeather smile.
Perfection only exists in his dreams. Snowkit is taken from them much too soon, illness slowing down the energetic kit until she is still. Stormstep is nowhere to be found during the vigil, so Sorrelfeather lets Lilyleap cry on his shoulder.
(Shellspots pretends not to see them.)
Frostpaw becomes a lonely apprentice, one Sorrelfeather was interested in mentoring, but he's given to Blazespark. The young tom is honorable, brave, and gets on Sorrelfeather's nerves.
(Maybe because he's the kind of tom who's good enough for Shellspots. Who doesn't let his gaze linger in old loves. Who would save his friend from the monster and his sister from herself.)
Lilyleap decides to stay in the nursery, to help out. She's happy there. (She's away from Stormstep.)
Rumor has it, there's another reason though. And Frostpaw won't be a lonely kit forever. Sorrelfeather is brightened by that. He gave Shellspots what she wanted, and now has two kits of his own. He's never been the most creative, but Logkit and Brownkit have apt names according to him. Lilyleap teases him.
They're growing up, his children. Shellspots is a wonderful mother and he's happy leaving them in her care. (She'd been worried beforehand, Stripesong had died in birth. But Sorrelfeather knew his mate would make it. She was stronger than that.)
Things are happy again. He's rekindled his friendship with Lilyleap. He has a family. Sorrelfeather thinks he's done alright, for a tom that used to be the worst apprentice.
Stormstep warns him to stay away from his mate. Sorrelfeather ignores him, this time. He's tired of running, and has Shellspots now. Doesn't Stormstep understand that?
(Lilyleap had nuzzled him yesterday. In a way that was more than friendly. Stormstep hadn't seen, had he? Had he?)
He should have known better than to ignore a warning. Stormstep always followed through on his threats. Shellspots body was laid out in camp, having been found near Mai's border.
Rogues. The rogues had gotten her, everyone said. Mai had torn her throat out herself. The story got more wild with each passing day. Sorrelfeather was horrified. His kits, Logkit and Brownkit had no mother.
He slept in the nursery with them. He couldn't leave them. Lilyleap placed her tail on his. Twined it with his, slightly.
He hated how much it helped.
Ashstar and Mai talked things through, Mai was an enigma. New, powerful, and dangerous. But she was insulted at being called a killer. At having her honor stained. But the clan firmly believed one of her cats did it.
(Stormstep had been oddly grinning through the whole thing. Like it was a joke only he got.)
Then one day, she barged into camp, dripping blood and said the killer had been dealt with. That was enough to ease Fallenclan's concerns.
Lilyleap became Sorrelfeather's new constant. She helped him with his kits, was his only friend. He curled up next to her, some nights.
What else could Stormstep take from him?
He got the answer one night when he awoke and Lilyleap was gone. Rain pattered on the roof of the camp. The wind sounded like a thousand angry beasts calling for blood. It wasn't safe to go out.
Something tugged on Sorrelfeather. Stormstep and Lilyleap were both missing. What else could he take?
Sorrelfeather left his kits, and ignored the screams of his clanmates as he dove into the storm. Ashstar had ordered all to stay in camp because of flooding.
Why would Stormstep take his pregnant mate out here?
He stumbled, rain like claws as they hit his face. He couldn't see, but he could run. He didn't have much left, he couldn't afford to abandon Lilyleap. Not again. Sorrelfeather summoned up his courage, something he hadn't known he had. And like that, through a miracle. He found a tuft of white fur and a scent. He followed it, running. Time, he was running out of time.
It came to the river's edge. The angry, roaring river. It screamed at him, told him to get back. Sorrelfeather wasn't a strong swimmer. But then, through the night, he saw her white fur. Stormstep was making her swim across? No, no. He was going to drown her. Sorrelfeather leapt in, not thinking.
He would save her, he would-
He went into the rapids. Rocks slammed into him, slices him. He felt himself leaking out, all his courage, all his love. What a waste.
By a miracle, or a punishment, he washed up on the bank. Broken and disjointed, his body screamed when he stood up. Lilyleap was gone, there was no sign of Stormstep. There was no way they'd survived that.
Sorrelfeather knew he had to get back to camp. Kits… he still has his kits.
Limping, dragging himself through the forest in an agonizing eternity, he made it. He managed to stand up.
Sorrelfeather looked at the clan, who watched him with disgust and worry. He knew he was a gruesome thing, shredded beyond repair.
"Lilyleap…" his determination was gone, leaving him shattered, "She… Stormstep and her went to the river. I… I found them. I tried to…"
"She drowned," tears fell down his face, "Oh Starclan, she drowned…" The weight of his failure his him harder than the rocks had.
(Frostpaw looked relieved.)
Lilyleap, his precious Lilyleap…
Sorrelfeather couldn't do it. Not without her. He was bleeding out, blood falling like the tears in his eyes, "Lily…"
He fell on his side, Clearstone rushing towards him. But it was too late.
Sorrelfeather was broken, there wouldn't be any putting him back together.