Luck

L U C K A story about Mallowbreeze

NOTE: This story contains absolutely fictional characters that are not used in the FlameClan Roleplay. Existing characters will only be used with the owner's permission, and will have links to their articles.

Prologue
I'm going to leave soon.

Well, not exactly leave. But I have a feeling that I'm... departing. Like, I feel a finality on everything. A... conclusion. Yes, that's it. I'm concluding. Concluding my life in FlameClan, a life of trials, sadness, and bittersweet happiness.

So before I conclude I ask you- no, I beg you- to hear this last memoir of one of the only elders of FlameClan. Please... this is my last wish before I go. Hear the story...

Hear the story of Mallowkit, dying kit of FlameClan.

Hear the story of Mallowpaw, failing apprentice of FlameClan.

Hear the story of Mallowbreeze, the one surviving elder of FlameClan.

Hear the story of what could have been but never was.

Chapter I
Before I start my story, I want to tell you about my parents.

Neither were well-known or critical members of their Clan, but to me they were the world. My mother, Silverwhisper, was beautiful in her own quiet way. Her dappled, silvery pelt fills my early memories as a kit. It was like a river... I remember drifting to sleep at night imagining it was a silver river carrying me all the way to the stars. Her scent brings back memories of my kitten days, silly and foolish desires to be leader. Desires she would praise me for as my father teased me on my ambitions.

My father. Bravelight. Maybe he's not a hero to the Clan, but he's a hero to me. He told me stories of great badger fights, times when he fought beside his Clan, strike for strike, blow for blow. If only he could have fought beside me like that.

Both of these parents were solid, fixed presences in my mind that gradually became ghosts. My dear mother left to StarClan before she knew about my 'condition'. She died a death that she didn't deserve, fighting a hopeless battle against greencough. Her dead body is forever burned into my mind, but I hope she's happy somewhere up in the stars.

As for my father... he faded quicker than she did. When he heard about my condition, he was already far away in another world where I didn't exist. My mother's death broke him entirely from the inside and from the outside. He tried to forget her and me. He never once met my gaze after that. Never once called me ' Little Leader' again.

But they were good cats. Unknown to most, but good cats. I guess they did the best they could have for me. Silverwhisper's soft voice sometimes echoes in my lonely dreams these days. That's why I know for certain I'm concluding.

---

I was born on one of the coldest days of the season. Silverwhisper had me early in the morning when the sun hadn't even risen. By the time the medicine cat got there, she had a little grey-and-white bundle next to her. That bundle was named Mallowkit for the first herb she saw the medicine cat bring in. Not a very inspirational naming story, but it was my name.

I don't recall any siblings, alive or dead. Confusingly, there's a memory of a Goldkit beside me, some voices calling to he/she. Maybe it was another kit. I don't know for sure. My parents have never told me because I never asked.

The birth was a difficult one, and my mother lost a lot of blood. She was very weak after we were born and could not feed us. Due to my poor memory I can't recall the name of the queen that nursed me. But I know she was a kind cat with bright eyes that were either amber or black.

I opened my eyes when expected. They were the green of my mother's. My father joked about how happy he was that he had a unique eye color since his kit didn't have them. My mother playfully swiped at him. I remember laughing my head off because she accidentally hit him hard and made him fall on his muzzle.

My parents loved each other dearly, I could see that. They teased each other gently, and the extent of their quarreling was complaining about how fat the other was. I felt that they were made perfectly for each other and as a kit I wanted a mate who would be like they were.

So I was raised with love and understanding from both ever since I was younger. I don't recall any playmates. This makes sense since I was told I spent most of the time alone. Warriors have told me how they always saw two pairs of wide green eyes watching them. They laugh when they tell me that once they tried to talk to me, I screamed and ran away. Sounds like me.

I don't have very many memories of my days as a kit, which is peculiar. I guess I've wasted your time telling you about my patchy memories, but the thing I wanted to get across was that there was nothing wrong with me at the time. Nothing at all. I was raised normally. I had a loving family. I was rarely, if ever, sick.

So why did it happen?