Part Three

Frostkit was sure that she had never seen a cat look so shocked, but it wasn't the first time that such a face had been directed at her, either.

"What… what did you just say?" the strange looking cat, Pinepaw, mewed. "Could you please repeat that for me?" His eyes closed shut in pain, but Frostkit knew that if they were open, then he would be seeing a white she-cat standing tall and proud, her blue eyes holding a determined glint in them.

"I said that I want you to teach me," Frostkit answered, feeling incredibly proud of herself. "I want you to teach me how to fight like you. So, please!"

Pinepaw was looking at her quite oddly now, his expression one of befuddlement.

Or was it just confusion she was seeing there?

Frostkit didn't know either, because she wasn't the best at reading other cats- well, that was what her mother said anyway, and Pebblefur was usually correct.

"You want me to… teach you how to fight?" Pinepaw repeated, looking vastly lost.

"Yes," Frostkit responded quite happily, or was she just feeling content?

Hopefully Pinepaw would teach her, after all, he had been born witness to her expertise in healing (more like gathering herbs for the real medicine cat while the real medicine cat apprentice was nowhere to be seen), and she was quite decent at recognising the various herbs that Mosslight kept in her stores, as well as their individual uses.

Frostkit had to pass the time somehow. After all, there wasn't much to do except to sit around and ruminate what could have been if she hadn't had this… condition. Like, what her warrior name might have been.

Frostkit found that she rather liked the name Frostheart. The name had a meaning behind it- that is, to always be strong, or was it brave?

Once again, she didn't know- mostly due to the fact that she wasn't trained, and she probably never would become a warrior.

Pinepaw looked awkward, there was just no other word to describe him with, and he seemed to hesitate. But when Mosslight began to clean and seal the other wounds on his body, his eyes bulged out of their sockets, and his wide amber eyes met her own blue ones, pity and understanding in their dark depths.

"Will you?" Frostkit pressed. "Will you teach me?"

His head flopped to one side, but his gaze never broke with hers, remaining fixed on her face with an intensity that almost made her blush. The key word being almost.

Then, he smiled, and it softened his entire face; erasing the pain-filled creases around his mouth and eyes. "I will," he whispered, his voice low and soft. "But I have to warn you: I'm fighting on three legs. With me as a teacher, you'll be at a disadvantage."

"I don't care," Frostkit said immediately, her entire face lighting up with her smile. "Because it means that we're the same. We're both at a disadvantage, you with your leg and me with my breathing problems."

Pinepaw nodded, and he rolled over onto his side to face her, wincing the slightest bit at the pain of his injuries.

His belly was a dark, russet colour, Frostkit noticed.

It was strange, but for Pinepaw, strange was good.

Pinepaw smiled.

It was a strange smile, too.

But that was okay.

It was Pinepaw.

Frostkit smiled back.

She would be fine.

And so would he.

. . .

"Frostpaw," Mosslight groaned, popping her head into her den. "Do you know where Cloverpaw is? I haven't seen that apprentice since this morning when she claimed to be out picking herbs."

Frostkit shrugged, and Mosslight seemed to notice the movement, for her eyes narrowed.

"I think you do know where she is, but you're not telling me. Why is that, Frostpaw?" her guardian growled.

"Maybe it's due to the fact that Cloverpaw's my friend," Frostkit responded calmly, her voice not belying her anxiety and fear.

She knew where Cloverpaw was, of course, but she wasn't about to tell Mosslight that. Cloverpaw would have her hide if she did something like that, and Frostkit quite liked hers, thank you very much!

Mosslight sighed, and seemed to come to a decision. "Frostpaw," she mewed. "I want you to check Pinepaw's wounds while I go and look for that wayward apprentice of mine."

Frostkit merely nodded, already getting to her paws. "Okay," she murmured. "I need to be useful one way or another. The least I can do is this."

Mosslight sighed again, and the stress emanating from her seemed palpable. "Taken some aspen tree bark, Frostpaw," the medicine cat mewed, sounding tired and weary. "It should help you feel better."

Frostkit knew what her guardian was implying, and she was correct in assuming that Frostkit wasn't going to mope around about how she felt.

But that was always how she felt, and Frostkit didn't know how to alleviate that sadness, that… depression.

She took the aspen tree bark anyway.

And Mosslight was right, it did help her feel better, albeit more alert than she usually was. It helped with the stress somewhat.

Frostkit also took some coltsfoot, to soften the tightening in her chest somewhat. She then turned away from Mosslight's stores and approached the nest of moss that Pinepaw was currently resting.

She stopped at the foot, and she just stared at him for a second.

The apprentice was splayed on his belly, so as to not strain any of the wounds on his back and shoulders. He was sleeping, and the tight creases that seemed to permanently accompany the edges of his lips and eyes were gone, softened from slumber.

Frostkit sat beside his body, and ever so gently, she shook his uninjured shoulder, rousing him from his sleep.

It took him a few moments, but woke up, those strange amber eyes of his blinking open.

Pinepaw stared at her for a moment and, when Frostkit silently showed him the goldenrod beside her, he complied and wordlessly sat down.

Frostkit began to chew the goldenrod up, for she knew that a poultice of it would do his wounds good, and maybe even a slather of the juice to ease his pain a little.

As she applied the crushed up mixture to the gaping, though thankfully sealed wound on his shoulder, Pinepaw was silent.

But just as she was starting to smear the juice over the wound, he spoke up: "How come the medicine cat isn't treating me? She was last time."

Frostkit answered as she finished applying the juice, "Mosslight is outside searching for her apprentice. I'm only here because she asked me, because, you see, she's my guardian."

"Is that why you aren't an apprentice?" Pinepaw asked quietly. "Because of your… condition?"

Frostkit dug her paws so hard into the ground that the dirt underneath it began to give way. "Yes," she answered softly. "I'm too useless to be trained, so that's why Mosslight took me under her wing. I'm not her apprentice, per see, but she's all I've got beside my brother and mother."

"Is that why you wanted me to teach you? Because," here, Pinepaw shifted uncomfortably, eying his twisted back leg, "I'm not the best cat to go to. Why not another cat other than me? Like, Snowfoot, for example. I know that the majority of the Clan doesn't trust him, but he was still deputy."

"I asked you because I want to learn how to fight like you do," Frostkit answered simply. "You're strong, Pinepaw, and you're a fighter. I like that."

"But I'm crippled!" he blurted out quickly. "My leg is twisted so badly that I can't even fight properly. Why not ask someone else?"

"Because I didn't want to," Frostkit replied, and she lowered her voice to a whisper as she mewed, "You're just like me, Pinepaw. We're the same, but there's a difference."

"What's that?" Pinepaw asked, swallowing.

"You're stronger than I will ever be," Frostkit whispered.

. . .

A moon passed, and Pinepaw's wounds began to steadily heal.

They healed slowly, though, and by the time the moon was up, he could stand without exerting too much energy.

Another thing happened, and Frostkit's friend, Cloverpaw, became Cloverleaf. The medicine cat apprentice appeared to be delighted over the news, but there was also an overwhelming sadness about her, too. Cloverleaf's shoulders seemed to permanently be slumped, and it was as if she seemed horribly guilty over something.

Frostkit knew what it was, but she couldn't fault her friend for it, either.

She found out the truth the day her brother walked into Mosslight's den.

"Frostpaw," her brother greeted warmly, and she nodded back. He looked around the place in wonder, but Frostkit knew that he had seen it many times before. "Is Mosslight or Cloverleaf nearby? I have a thorn in my paw."

"I can remove it for you," Frostkit offered.

Dewpaw looked at her in slight confusion, but then he chuckled. "Okay," he mewed. "Whatever you want. I mean, I think it's kind of cool that my sister is an apprentice to Mosslight."

"Charge," Frostkit corrected. "I'm not an apprentice, Dewpaw, and really, my rank is technically still that of a kit. So I don't know why everyone is calling me Frostpaw."

"You're not a kit anymore," Mosslight suddenly mewed, appearing from thin air. "You're eleven moons old, Frostpaw, so enough with this kit business."

"But it's true," Frostkit protested. "I'm not an apprentice of any kind, nor a warrior."

Mosslight smirked then. "Let me make it official then," she mewed. "And while I may be no leader, I am still a medicine cat and I hold a pretty big authority in this Clan." She ignored Frostkit's look of befuddlement, and continued, "From this moment on, until you are released from my guardianship, you will be known as Frostpaw. You will shed your old name and embrace your new one."

Frostpaw felt a frown pull at her lips, then she looked away, muttering, "You've wanted to do that for moons. I know you have."

Mosslight chuckled. "Of course I have," she responded. "I couldn't have my charge wandering around the camp and being called Frostkit when she's eleven moons old, now, could I?"

Frostpaw simply rolled her eyes, and set to removing the thorn in her brother's paw. She swiftly pulled it out and, ignoring his pained, surprised yelp, mewed, "Mosslight, can you please get me some gumweed from your stores? I have to stay here and make sure that Dewpaw doesn't run off and do something stupid with this wound on the bottom of his paw."

Mosslight looked amused. "Of course," she drawled. "I can't have your brother trailing blood all over my den, now. I'll be back in a moment."

When Mosslight returned, Frostpaw chewed up the gumweed into a poultice and then smeared it all over Dewpaw's wound, merely pressing down harder when her brother hissed.

"Shh," she murmured. "If you keep moving, it will only sting worse."

"You seem very," here, Dewpaw clenched his teeth together, "proficient at this. Why not just become a medicine cat?"

"Because I want to become a warrior," Frostpaw responded simply. "And maybe even have kits in the future. And now that I think about it, I really would like to become a mother. It sounds fascinating."

"Remember, Frostpaw, it's never a good thing when you get fascinated," Dewpaw warned. "Look at what happened-"

"To that kit," Frostpaw finished darkly, never once looking up from his paw. "Yes, Dewpaw, I remember. I was there. And I still blame myself."

"It wasn't your fault, Frostpaw," her brother said quickly.

"It was. I delivered it," she said glumly.

"Hey, don't close off," Dewpaw mewed, sounding frantic. "Come on, Frostpaw. Don't do this. Think, uh, think of happy things! That's it!"

"There's nothing to think about," Frostpaw responded dully, and if she could see herself at that moment, then she would see herself with darkened, stormy blue eyes.

"What about something you care about then?" her brother ventured. "Like, uh, I dunno… that apprentice you're always with. What was his name…? Ah, Pinepaw! That was it! What about Pinepaw?"

"He's merely my patient," she mewed wearily. "And when he's fully healed, he'll be my teacher."

"Eh, teacher?" Dewpaw looked confused. "But isn't Mosslight your teacher?"

"Guardian," Frostpaw corrected absentmindedly. "And yes, Pinepaw will teach me. He promised, after all."

"Maybe he'll teach you to get over your depression," Dewpaw muttered, and he lowered his voice so that Frostpaw had to strain to hear it: "And get over his own in the process."

Frostpaw blinked. "Pinepaw is sad?" she asked, and before her brother could answer, she knew that it was true. Pinepaw always had this sad, faraway look on his face whenever he was ruminating alone.

He looked lonely.

Lonely and sad.

The same feelings that Frostpaw herself felt on a daily basis.

"He cares for you, Frostpaw," Dewpaw murmured. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

"You're wrong," Frostpaw said quietly. "Pinepaw doesn't feel anything for me. You're just misreading the situation is all."

Dewpaw shook his head. "No, Frostpaw," he muttered. "I don't think I'm wrong at all. It's you who's misreading the situation. You need to get over the fact that there are cats who care for you. I mean, I care about you. ThunderClan doesn't hate you, either. And we don't think you're useless. In fact, you're helping us out a lot with your healing, and that makes us all love you all the more for it."

"You're still wrong," was all Frostpaw would say.

Dewpaw merely sighed and padded out of the medicine den, his words echoing in her head.

. . .

"How fast do I have to move?" Frostpaw asked.

"As fast as you can," Pinepaw answered, and in a slightly softer tone of voice, he mewed, "But I don't think you should with your breathing problems. It might make you have another attack."

"Of course," Frostpaw muttered resentfully, looking down at her paws. "Why does this condition make me so useless?"

Pinepaw sighed, and his face softened when he released it. "You don't truly know that until you've tried it," he said kindly, but Frostpaw knew that he was far away as usual, his eyes focused on something in the distance that wasn't really there. "So please, Frostpaw, try it before you come to any conclusions."

Frostpaw looked down at her paws, contemplating the situation.

Could she really do this?

Pinepaw had told her to try, but could she really pull it off without suffering an attack?

Frostpaw didn't know, but she would do as her teacher had instructed and try.

"Come at me from behind, Frostpaw," Pinepaw said softly, and, as usual, he seemed to be off in his own little world. "I'm too slow to dodge with this leg, so you should be able to get me even if you don't get it the first time."

Frostpaw clenched her jaw, but nodded, already coming up behind him, a fair distance away from him. She judged the length between them and, using her instincts to guide her, she balanced herself carefully on her front paws, before lashing out with her back legs.

However, before her legs could hit him, her own balance failed her and she ended up in an awkward half-sitting, half-reclining position.

When Pinepaw seemed to realise that no hit was coming, he quickly turned, and when he saw her position, a smile curled his lips and his dreamy eyes lit up, if only for a second.

"It's not funny," Frostpaw grumbled, though a reluctant smile played at her own lips when Pinepaw's grin only widened. A moment later, she mewed, "Let's try it again."

His smile faded, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you sure you'll be able to?" he asked quietly, his voice lowering to a quiet murmur as he said, "You won't have an attack?"

Frostpaw frowned. "I'll be fine," she mewed. "Besides, I nearly got it the first time."

"If you really think so," Pinepaw responded uncertainly. "But as soon as you feel you're going to have one, then tell me immediately and we'll stop."

"Of course," she answered, and as she said that, he got back in position

They performed the same move a few more times, and every time, Frostpaw ended up in the same position. She felt frustrate at the lack of progress.

She failed the move countless times, and yet, she still didn't know why. She was doing everything correct, she knew, but she never got it right.

"Why isn't it working?!" Frostpaw yelled, pawing the ground roughly in frustration. "I'm doing everything right! So why isn't it working?!"

"Frostpaw," Pinepaw murmured, turning around and padding toward her. "Frostpaw, calm down."

"Calm down?!" she questioned in disbelief, piercing him with angry blue eyes. "You want me to calm down?!"

"Yes," he answered calmly, and his usual dreamy eyes were sharp and alert. "That's exactly what I want you to do."

Frostpaw growled irritably and just as she was about to turn away from him, she felt a familiar tightness in her chest. She froze, her eyes going wide, and she hoped that if she were still as possible, then the feeling would disappear.

But unlike last time when the feeling faded away after a few short moments, this one lingered.

Whenever she tried to breathe, the pressure on her chest only built up, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

"P-Pinepaw," she managed to gasp out, and he was there in an instant, gazing down at her with worried eyes. "I-I can't-" she broke off, unable to finish her sentence.

"Frostpaw, look at me," he mewed sternly, and in response, she shakily lifted her head. "Now, calm down, and breathe. Can you do that for me?"

With her vision already beginning to go fuzzy, Frostpaw could only shake her head as she felt her limbs start to go weak, her small, frail body barely holding her up.

"No, Frostpaw," Pinepaw barked out sharply, and she thought that she could detect a small amount of panic in his voice. "Frostpaw, stay awake, okay? Don't fall asleep on me, please! Just breathe for me, and don't close your eyes!"

Frostpaw slumped against him, and she felt him hurriedly hold her up by her scruff. "Too late," she slurred. "I can… feel myself slipping."

And as everything faded away, all she could think was: Is this really the end?

"Frostpaw!"

. . .

Frostpaw woke with a gasp, and it was to the feeling of something large and heavy pressing down on her chest.

She groaned wearily, blinking open her eyes.

"Where… am I?"

Frostpaw didn't have to be a mouse-brain to know where she was- it was quite obvious as to whose den she was in.

There was a rustle to her left, and she tiredly turned her head, slightly surprised at what she saw.

Pinepaw was lying on her left, his eyes drooping closed- he looked incredibly weary, Frostpaw realised. So, just how long had he been there for?

"Pinepaw?" she mewed, and winced at how cracked and raspy her voice sounded- as well as the dried fluid around her lips.

She raised a paw and wiped away at her mouth, but even the smallest action left a crippling tiredness in its wake.

"Pinepaw?" she murmured, and at the sound of her voice, he jerked awake, piercing her with frantic amber eyes.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. "Can you breathe properly?"

In response, Frostpaw drew in a breath and cringed at how it made a rattled and clogged up noise in her throat. "I can breathe a bit," she admitted. "But not much."

"I'm sorry," Pinepaw said suddenly, surprising her. "It's my fault. If I hadn't taught you that move, then you wouldn't be here right now struggling to breathe."

"But I'm the one who asked you to teach me," Frostpaw countered softly. "So if it's anyone's fault, then it's my own. But you really helped me, you know? You made me feel… happier, though a little frustrated whenever you seemed to blame yourself for something that was clearly my fault. Like now, for example."

Pinepaw sighed, leaning forward and resting his chin on his paws. "I really thought I was going to lose you," he whispered, his dreamy eyes wide and intense. "I don't know what would have happened if I did."

"You're the only one who understands how I feel," Frostpaw whispered back, and just as Pinepaw was about to open his mouth to reply, a cat abruptly entered the den.

It was a tom with thick, dark-grey fur and bright amber eyes.

Dewpaw.

"Frostpaw," he greeted, and she nodded in acknowledgement. "You're awake, and… he's still there."

"Dewpaw," Pinepaw murmured. "Your sister only just woke up, and I think it would be best if someone got Mosslight or Cloverleaf to have a look over her."

"I'll go," her brother offered.

But Pinepaw shook his head, mewing, "On second thought, I think I'll just go and get her myself. I'm sure the both of you will want to catch up."

And before anyone could protest, he had already gotten up and left, leaving Frostpaw to watch at his retreating back in dismay.

"He seemed uncomfortable," Dewpaw commented. "Strange, but considering that it's Pinepaw, I shouldn't be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm?" Dewpaw glanced at her, and when she repeated her question, he grinned somewhat cheekily. "Oh, you'll find out in a few moons, dear sister."

A moment later, Pinepaw returned with Mosslight in tow, the dappled white and brown she-cat looking slightly frazzled. Cloverleaf followed on behind, despite the fact that only Mosslight would be needed.

The medicine cat apprentice seemed a little overwhelmed, as well as nervous. Frostpaw couldn't understand why, after all, hadn't Cloverleaf performed dozens of examinations on various other cats? What made her any different?

Frostpaw was silent as Mosslight performed the standard examination that came to her attacks: checking her pulse and her chest, then giving her some coltsfoots.

"Rest for a few days and then you'll be fine," Cloverleaf offered up, smiling hesitantly.

"Knowing Frostpaw, she'll be up tomorrow," Mosslight muttered. "That's how fast she recovers."

And, true to the medicine cat's words, Frostpaw was up and about the camp, but she was forbidden from training, as that was what had triggered her attack in the first place.

"Will I ever become a warrior?" she moaned to Pinepaw. "Or will I just stay at kit rank forever?"

Pinepaw shot her a sympathetic look. "Maybe you should ask Cinderstar," he suggested. "He might do something about it.

"I don't know," she hesitated, then cast a wide-eyed glance up at him. "Do you really think he'll say yes?"

Pinepaw shrugged. "He may," he answered vaguely, "Or he may not. We'll just have to wait and see."

They padded to Cinderstar's den together, their sides lightly touching.

Frostpaw peered through the lichen curiously, wondering what was inside.

"What do you want?" the ThunderClan leader's harsh, unfamiliar voice growled.

Without hesitating, Frostpaw met his gaze with fierce, fiery blue eyes, and she blurted out her desire.

"Please, let me become an apprentice!"

. . .

"Now!" her teacher barked.

Huffing and puffing, Frostpaw struggled to adhere to his commands. And when she did, albeit with a familiar tightness present in her chest, she successfully balanced her weight on her front paws before lashing out with her back legs.

He grunted slightly as the attack made impact on his back, and it sent him staggering a few tail-lengths. Nevertheless, Frostpaw was quite proud of herself for finally perfecting the difficult move, and using it in battle with it actually working only heightened her self-esteem.

"You did really well, Frostpaw," he praised.

Feeling strangely shy, she simply murmured, "I couldn't have done it without your help, Pinefoot."

Pinefoot smiled back at her, his dreamy eyes looking as if he were in his own little world. "You worked hard for it," he reminded her. "And you were rewarded with these fantastic results."

It had been over three moons since Cinderstar had appointed her as an apprentice, and Frostpaw had worked incredibly hard since to prove that she was worthy of the rank.

"I'm no longer a kit," Frostpaw realised. "But I'm not a warrior yet, either."

"You will be soon," Pinefoot mewed kindly, and she felt that strange shy feeling again.

Frostpaw had never felt anything like it. Just what did it mean?

She didn't know.

Maybe she should ask her mother for advice? After all, Pebblefur was supposed to know everything there was to know about for she-cats, especially if they feel something strange around a cat they've known for moons.

"Uh, Pinefoot," Frostpaw mewed, glancing up at him. He was gazing intently back at her, his eyes dreamily taking in her entire form. "When can I go? I want to ask my mother something."

"Soon," Pinefoot murmured. "I want to teach you one last move, and it's fairly simple. When I pin you to the ground, just play dead."

To her horror, Frostpaw felt something inside of her tingle at his words and, like before, a wave of shyness washed over her.

"Okay," she said quietly. "When do we start?"

"Now," Pinefoot answered softly.

And that was all the warning she got before he suddenly leaped at her, and, true to his words, he pinned her to the ground, hovering above her.

"Play dead now," he mewed. "And make it your best imitation."

The second his sentence finished, Frostpaw felt herself go limp and her eyes slip closed. Her breathing came out in harsh, unsteady breaths, and for a moment, she thought she was having an attack.

Her entire body felt warm, and it felt as if her stomach were filled with butterflies.

"You're so beautiful, Frostpaw," Pinefoot murmured.

Frostpaw gasped, and her eyes snapped open. She glimpsed Pinefoot hovering over her with an uncertain expression on his face, but when he saw her gazing at him, his face smoothed out.

"You did a good imitation," he mewed.

Frostpaw blinked.

Pinefoot was suddenly gone.

She sighed, muttering, "I need that talk with Pebblefur right now."

Frostpaw found her mother in the clearing overlooking the Highrock, sharing a rabbit with her mate, Snowfoot.

Suddenly overcome by nerves at the sight of her father, Frostpaw hesitantly padded over to the pair, and mewed, "Uh, Pebblefur, can I talk to you?"

Her mother glanced up to see who it was, and when she knew, her expression brightened. "Ah, Frostpaw!" she exclaimed. "What did you want?"

Frostpaw felt embarrassed all of a sudden, and it didn't help that her father was there and steadily ignoring her by staring at his food. "I, uh, just wanted to know something," she mumbled.

"What is it?" her mother asked kindly.

She sighed, before blurting, "Whenever I'm around Pinefoot, I keep getting this really weird feeling. It feels as if my body's burning and there are butterflies in my stomach. I don't know what it means, so can you tell me?"

Pebblefur didn't even blink. "And what do you like the most about Pinefoot?" she inquired calmly.

Frostpaw felt herself flush, before answering: "Uh, I guess I like the sound of his voice, it's really sweet sounding. Oh, and I can't forget his eyes!" she started to list out, excitement seeping into her voice. "They're so bright, and sometimes, it's as if you're staring into a dream! Also, I like his pelt, his claws, his feet, and the russet colour on his belly." She lowered her voice into a murmur, "And he's the kindest, most lovely cat in ThunderClan."

Pebblefur suddenly chuckled, and she mewed, "I know what's wrong with you, Frostpaw."

Frostpaw was alert. "What is it?" she asked quickly. "It's not another… condition, is it? Because even if it wasn't, I find it kind of fascinating, but like Mosslight and Dewstrike say, it isn't very good when I get fascinated, is it?"

She stopped her ranting when her mother gave her a look.

"Do you really want to know, Frostpaw?" her mother finally asked.

This time, it was Frostpaw who gave her a look. "Of course I do," she mewed, all the while her mother smiled, as if the answer were some great secret or other.

"You're in love with him, Frostpaw," Pebblefur murmured. "You're in love with Pinefoot."

. . .

"StarClan honours your courage and determination," Cinderstar rumbled, his growl reverberating around the clearing.

Frostpaw felt her heart bleed with anticipation; just what would the ThunderClan leader name her?

She knew that her brother, Dewstrike, had received his name based on his prowess in battle, and her teacher, Pinefoot, had received his based on his twisted back leg, as cruel as the reminder was.

But what would her name be?

Would it represent her prowess in healing, or something else?

"I name you Frostbreath," Cinderstar finally announced.

Frostbreath?

Did it represent her condition? A cruel, stark reminder that warned that her breathing would never be normal for the entirety of her life?

She didn't know.

As one, ThunderClan cheered for her: "Frostbreath, Frostbreath, Frostbreath!"

But she decided that she liked her new name, and she would embrace it. And while the depression and horrible loneliness and the feeling isolation would never fully go away, she was determined to make the most of her life.

She was Frostbreath.

"Frostbreath!" Pinefoot was cheering the loudest of all, and Frostbreath swallowed.

Long had she questioned this affection that she held for him, this love? It was a long time coming, and though she didn't fully understand it for herself, she knew that her feelings were real.

Pinefoot had always been there for her from the moment they had met, and he was the one who had broken down her barriers, the one who had shown her that she wasn't truly alone.

He showed her that she could depend on someone.

Frostbreath padded over to him amidst the loud cheering of her Clanmates. His eyes were as dreamy as normal, and though he seemed to once again be off in his own little world, he acknowledged her presence with a small smile that softened his entire face, the creases around his mouth and eyes disappearing as his lips pulled up.

"I see that you've finally achieved your dream," Pinefoot teased. "You're finally a warrior."

"Yes," Frostbreath answered softly, smiling up at him.

There was a few seconds of silence until Frostpaw ventured, "Pinefoot?"

"Hmm?" the warrior hummed, still in his own little world.

"I want to tell you something. And I know that you might not care, but I still want to tell you."

Pinefoot looked interested, and he mewed, "Of course I'll care, Frostbreath. Just tell me already."

"Okay," Frostbreath took a deep breath, and murmured, "When I met you, I knew that you were a fighter, Pinefoot. And to know that you were like me made me feel slightly better, because you knew how I felt. You knew the depression and the loneliness I was facing. The what if's and the why me's, you knew everything. And yet, you never contradicted me. You never told me that I was useless. When I was around you, I felt like me. And I don't know when I started to feel this… this affection for you. I don't know when I truly fell in love with you."

Pinefoot was silent throughout her entire confession, and his dreamy eyes suddenly narrowed when the last word left her lips, and she felt flustered and embarrassed.

I knew that this was a bad idea, she thought.

"You knew how I felt," Pinefoot mewed. "And you know how I feel, so I'm just going to skip the sappiness and go on from there."

"What do you mean?" Frostbreath whispered, and she refused to hope, because he simply couldn't feel the same way when she barely understood these feelings herself.

But she dared to hope.

And his next words made her feel happy.

Not content or fine, but happy.

"It means that I love you, too."

. . .

"Tell us more!" Oakkit demanded.

"Yeah, what he said!" Petalkit added.

Frostbreath shook her head in exasperation, though her chest seized in warning at her action.

It had been moons since she had had an attack, and they weren't as common now that she was getting older. She supposed that she was growing out of them, but that didn't mean that her breathing problems left her entirely. Oh no, the last attack she'd had was when she was giving birth to the kits, though it was only a mild one, thank StarClan.

The two kits on the ground looked up at her with huge amber eyes- Pinefoot's eyes, she was happy to note.

Oakkit was a near carbon copy of his father, though he had retained her smaller, frailer stature- something that the proud kit wasn't really happy about.

Her daughter, Petalkit, was very cute. Her pelt was white with light-brown splotches that looked like fallen petals.

They were nearly six moons, and they hadn't been born with any deformities, no matter how much Oakkit kept remarking that Pinefoot had twisted his back leg in an epic battle with ShadowClan.

Oakkit loved his father with the sweetness of a kit, and he dream was to be the leader of ThunderClan one day.

Petalkit however, had different ambitions. Instead of wishing to become a warrior, she had expressed an interest in the art of healing.

Her sweet daughter wished to become a medicine cat.

Frostbreath knew that Cloverleaf would be all too happy to take on an apprentice now that Mosslight had retired to become an elder, leaving her the sole medicine cat in ThunderClan.

And as for Frostbreath…

Well, she was mainly content as a Queen for the time being, and even her battle-worthy brother, Dewstrike had settled down, his mate already expecting kits.

"Tell us another story, Frostbreath!" Oakkit begged.

"Yeah," Petalkit mewed. "Please? Just one more story before we go to sleep?"

Frostbreath chuckled slightly, then shushed her kits gently.

"Alright," she mewed. "But only one more. After that, you have to go to sleep."

"Okay," her kits chorused as one.

Frostbreath didn't even have to think which story to tell them. "Well," she began. "There was once a kit, and she was incredibly lonely. The other cats weren't like her, and so she always felt depressed, believing that she was useless to her Clan. That wasn't true, however, as her Clan loved her as much as they loved their other member. One day, she met another cat who was just like her. He was a fighter, and he taught her an important lesson.

"What was that, Frostbreath?" Petalkit piped up.

Frostbreath smiled down at her daughter.

"He taught her how to breathe."