A bright, Greenleaf light flickered onto the hard, stone floor of the medicine cat's den. Briarlight had lived here with Jayfeather for ages. Moons had gone by. Apprentices had been made warriors, queens have kitted, warriors had become elders. The typical clan life one would expect. But what had not changed? The shape of Briarlight's feeble hind legs.

Stop it. She didn't want to think that way. The clan did everything for her. Bumblestripe and Blossomfall would visit every day, despite their busy work as warriors. Millie would bring her fresh kill and Graystripe was always eager to be visited in the elder's den.

And then there was Jayfeather. The bossy, cranky medicine cat did everything for her. He would sit with her all night when she couldn't sleep due to back cramps. He was diligently aware of her medicine so she would feel comfortable. He consoled her whenever she was down, and somehow he always knew.

Jayfeather had given her crippled life meaning once again. He had taught her every herb there was and how it could be used, as well as how to treat injuries. He showed her how to assist in a queen's kitting, and how to fix a wrenched shoulder.

She knew the rest of the clan were always on edge around him, not wanting to be clawed for saying something the medicine cat didn't like. But he was never upset around her. He was caring, and relaxed around her. She had grown to love everything about him. His scent, his fur, even his sightless blue eyes.

"Briarlight?" Jayfeather stirred from his nest. "What would you like from the fresh kill pile?"

"A mouse will be fine." Briarlight watched the lithe gray cat slide from his nest and into the clearing, always amazed at his ability to know exactly where he was, despite being blind.

I love you. She thought as she nuzzled back into her nest, drinking in the scent of Jayfeather mixed with herbs that was always lingering in the den.