"Why did this have to happen?" Morningsong yowled.
She glared at the stars in anger. The new leaves on the trees did not hide the cold sky from her. She glared at StarClan in hatred. They'd let her sister die. They hadn't warned Sunstorm of the danger she faced on the patrol. Sunstorm always knew what would happen. She wouldn't have allowed herself to die. StarClan had been working against her.
Morningsong didn't know where her and her sisters' powers came from. They'd just suddenly realized they'd had them a few moons after their births. Each had a gift. Morningsong saw the present.
She could remember that first memory. It seemed like a dream. It was as if Morningsong was looking down from a tree, then she was right there. Morningsong had seen Brindlepaw stalking a mouse. The she-cat was hiding in the bushes, her yellow eyes on the mouse as it pushed through the greenleaf dirt, building a den. It had to have been a young mouse because it wasn't watching the area around it. Morningsong watched, Brindlepaw sneak forward on silent paws and then lunge forward. As the apprentice's teeth closed around the mouse, Morningsong (at the time known as Morningkit) woke up.
She hadn't thought much about the dream, she was just a kit after all, but when Sunstorm started predicting things that she'd said she saw in her dreams, Morningsong brought up her own dreams. Fawnfur had confessed her own dreams of past cats. The sisters realized they had something special. And in the way of kits, they decided that was an awesome secret. They trained each other to speak at the same time, following Sunstorm's direction because she seemed to know what they should say. Soon it just became automatic, but because it made Cinderheart confused and nervous, the kits didn't do it often around her or the older cats.
They had particularly bothered one apprentice named Fallingpaw. Sunstorm said she was important. It turned out she was important, but Morningsong hadn't known that at the time. She'd just trusted Sunstorm. She looked up to Sunstorm because of all she knew. Sunstorm had given them hope and direction. Morningsong liked the idea of becoming the deputy of her sister. She'd follow her anywhere. Fawnfur had been perfect for medicine cat and Sunstorm for leading the Clan. For a while, Morningsong had worried what she'd become. There were only two important roles in the Clan, but Sunstorm had promised to make her deputy. Morningsong had looked forward to that day.
Now the day would never happen. Sunstorm would not become leader, would never give Morningsong the position.
Rage fill Morningsong at the thought. Everything that was supposed to happen wouldn't. Just because Sunstorm had died. Morningsong knew her sister hadn't chosen that, but still, why hadn't she seen it?
Why didn't I? Morningsong thought, her mind suddenly bleak. The rage left as she admitted to herself her real reason for her anger.
"Why did I see it?" Morningsong whispered. Why did she have to be told to know what had happened to her sister? When Millie and Berrynose told her just outside of camp, Morningsong had been unaware of the event. Why hadn't she seen it and been prepared?
Was her gift not working either? Had their powers finally run out? Sunstorm hadn't seen her death and Morningsong hadn't seen the event as it happened. Of course the gifts didn't always work when they wanted them to. That was a learned process, to block out visions they didn't want to see and during times they couldn't be distracted. The three had started to learn how to make certain visions come to them of the things they wanted to see. The three might know many things, but they didn't know all things. That frustrated Morningsong.
"What is the use of our gifts?" she asked herself. They hadn't helped her, they hadn't helped Sunstorm. The only one who really used hers and prospered was Fawnfur. The past was always useful. Fawnfur didn't repeat the mistakes of the past and she could tell really good stories. The kits viewed her in awe. When she told a story, it was like they were really there.
"Fawnfur is so lucky," Morningsong spat. "Why couldn't I have a gift like hers?"
What was Fawnfur doing now? Morningsong wondered. Was she moping and sad or was she with Cinderheart, helping?
Morningsong felt guilty. Maybe she shouldn't have run off after learning about the death. She should have stayed and comforted her mother as well. Sunstorm shouldn't have had to die. Shouldn't have left her family miserable.
"I hate you," she hissed, looking back at the stars. "I won't ever believe in you again! You did nothing to help! StarClan is a lie!"
"Hardly a lie."
Morningsong's head snapped to where the voice had come from. She could barely see a dark she-cat hiding under a bush. The yellow eyes stared out at her. It was almost like she wasn't there at all. Even the other she-cat's ginger belly blended into the shadows.
"They haven't done anything for me," Morningsong growled, instantly tense. Something was wrong.
"But they're still there, you think?"
Morningsong didn't answer. Who was this she-cat and why was she there? She sniffed, trying to catch a scent, but there was nothing.
"Do you want revenge against them?" It was a polite voice and yet held meaning.
"I would," Morningsong meowed. Yes, she wanted revenge. They'd let her sister die and had blocked her gift from seeing it happen. They were cruel to her so she would be cruel to them.
"I could teach you," the dark she-cat meowed. Then her tail flicked. "But not now. You should get back to camp. I will see you again."
Then the she-cat faded into nothing. The shadows had swallowed her.
"She was never really there was she?" Morningsong asked herself. She felt disappointed. At the same time she felt relief. She didn't like that strange cat. There was something odd about her, but revenge against StarClan interested Morningsong.
"I should get back to camp," she sighed to herself. She turned away and walked slowly back to camp. Sunstorm's body would probably be there by now. She could sit vigil for her sister this night and maybe hope things got back to normal. That she stopped seeing things in the night.
As she walked away, she did not see the two cats who sat side-by-side. The dark she-cat had brought back company. The dark-brown tabby tom was one the dark she-cat had not known in the mortal world, he having died long before her birth, but now in death, they walked side by side.
"She will work," Tigerstar meowed. His amber eyes narrowed. "She will work."
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