To some people, it's hard to help other people with their daily needs or chores, but we eventually learn how to do that one day or another. It's harder to help someone you don't like or hold some kind of grudge for. Even if it's something small in someone else's eyes, it's hard to spare time for someone that you've never gotten along with. You either get in fights because there are two different sides or you just don't show any kind of effort of help toward them, causing them to get angry at you - which can lead to multiple different problems and scenarios afterward.

But if you're forced to do so for something like a grade, both sides know and understand they have to bite their tongue and go along with things they don't approve of. If neither backs down, the project or goal gets nowhere, and it's only a waste of time that leaves each person frustrated and stressed. A part of this has to do with pride and views, but we've all been in a situation that causes us to go with a flow that seems too risky or far fetched.

Trust is kinda hard to understand, isn't it?

X X X

"Lionfur." Tigerfrost didn't sound thrilled, her paws crossed in front of her angrily, standing on all fours to reach his height. Ears flat against her head and eyes shut to contain the anger inside, she bit her lip, doing her best to keep her fur straight. Behind her, multiple eyes peeked excitedly at CinderClan, who all sat near the medicine cat den with Dapplefur rushing in and out, rapidly throwing herbs down and racing back to get another patch of herbs. The kits leaned forward and stumbled over one another, rolling into the opening. The queen bunched her muscles together with each little pound on her legs by a begging Firekit and Icekit.

"You know I love you, right?" she hissed out a little too nicely.

"Tigerfrost---"

"Right?" she repeated, more angered. Mothpaw and Beechpaw did their best to pretend they weren't nearby, but the queen's ears turned their direction when her brother stiffened a laugh. The two apprentices stopped and met the apprehensive look of the kits, each shaking with laughter, pushing their mother. 

"Yes..." Lionfur trailed off, waiting for the explosion to happen. Leopardkit let out a little squeal and raced over to her father, followed by the hoard of kits as well. Firekit and Icekit came after her, hot on her tail and both brothers took into the air, landing on one another with the burnt orange kit landing on top, squishing both siblings. Flintkit and Finchkit bounced after them, prancing around the bundle in a game, unaware of the spotted she-kit fighting to throw her brothers off. Tumblekit was the only one that stayed behind, interested in a small pebble between his paws.

CinderClan gave the kits curious glances and it didn't take them long to tie them to the striped queen. The warrior looked at his mate patiently, bracing himself for something to happen. Tigerfrost hardly moved or breathed, mind lost in deep thought. Mothpaw grew bored and looked away, figuring that the she-cat wouldn't do anything if it took this long to contemplate.

Finally, the queen snapped her aggravated, green eyes open, whipped her tail at CinderClan, unstirred at the furious glares and hisses she received. "Then why did you bring them to our camp out of all places?!" Tigerfrost hissed, keeping her voice semi-low so CinderClan couldn't hear. However, some warriors passed down what they heard and soon enough, the entire Clan was giving the queen strange and questionable looks. Lionfur didn't flinch or move at the outburst, remaining calm as she spat over his decisions.

"Do you understand that we're near leafbare?!" Tigerfrost pointed out, looking at the kits crowding behind their father. "We're already so low on prey and herbs and now CinderClan's here and you know Ashstar's going to let them stay, no questions asked." She turned her head to the side, regretting the words that came out of her mouth moments before. The she-cat dropped her head, hardly moving when Lionfur came over to comfort her, a swift lick across her forehead and an encouraging embrace resorting some easiness.

"I know that," he whispered. "And you know that no matter what she does, Ashstar's always going to let her in MeadowClan when she needs to."

Mothpaw padded away before Tigerfrost could say anything else. MeadowClan wasn't in the mood to do anything productive until their leader came back, and apparently, watching CinderClan like a hawk was the best choice. Dapplefur was the only cat working, running back and forth and asking questions to the injured cats and treating to their wounds with what little herbs she wanted to save. Since she had no knowledge of herbs, the silver apprentice wanted to occupy her time with her brother as usual, but this time, her paws took her toward the direction of Deerleaf, who sat by herself for once, staring at Aspenstar with a look in her eye.

She trotted over and greeted the warrior politely, dipping her head in respect. The fawn-colored cat smiled back and scooted over, making room for Mothpaw to slip in beside her. Laying next to her, the two she-cats stayed in one another's presence, not saying a word as they watched Dapplefur each way, entering and exiting her den frequently with a different kind of herb in her jaws each time. Deerleaf's eyes followed the medicine cat longingly, and seeing this, the apprentice nudged her in the shoulder.

Then a strange thing happened, and an injured Aspenstar stumbled out of the medicine cat den, wounds still not entirely patched up. She pushed through the stinging pain across her joints, even with Dapplefur's worried comments. Clearwhisker didn't stir from her sleep to notice her leader working. And like their own medicine cat, the CinderClan leader knelt beside her clanmates and checked the scratches that inflicted them. The scrawny she-cat got back onto her paws and trudged toward the den, limping on two paws.

Dapplefur was silent, looking at her paws with a mournful sigh before snapping back to tending the cats.

"I never did apologize," Deerleaf suddenly mentioned, turning toward her distant kin. "I didn't mean to leave you guys behind and then getting yourself caught in CinderClan's business."

"Oh... that's alright! There's no need to worry! None of us hold any kind of grudge against you, honest!" explained Mothpaw, shaking her head to and fro. "I should've apologized for assuming you were Breezepaw and Whitepaw's mother."

The she-cat blinked and then her eyes lit up. Softly laughing, she said, "There's no need to apologize for something like that. You didn't spread any kind of rumors around the Clan at least. Granted, nobody would've believed you."

"Did you know about their mother?" Mothpaw whispered, hiding her voice from lingering ears and attention.

"Obviously," she answered. "I wouldn't have told you anything if I didn't know the answer myself. Besides, I know my father inside and out; there's nothing he could hide from me that I wouldn't figure it out."

"Your connection with him makes me kinda jealous," she said aloud, thinking back to Ripplestone. It pained her to know that the tom hadn't shown his face and only sent Honeypaw forward while he stayed away. Her brother wouldn't be fond and that would only add onto the thorn at her side, but there was some kind of idea of having a parent figure at her side that made her smile. Deerleaf said nothing, only shook her head, silently tsk.

"We may be distant family, but we've both had a parent missing from our lives. I think it's the fact you're hanging over Ripplestone is what's creating this fake illusion of longing. It's going to sound mean, but get over it." She shrugged bluntly, looking at the line of CinderClan cats. "There's nothing wrong with thinking about them, knowing that you can't entirely picture them in your mind, but time will move on without you if you don't jump on."

"Do you miss your mother?" Mothpaw questioned. "Echoflight and Pebbleflight were highly close as sisters, from what I heard."

Sisters. The thought chilled her to the bone and Mothpaw held her breath. Deerleaf might know who Ashstar's other sister is.

"Sometimes. I don't remember what she looked like, but I bet she was pretty. When I hear her name, I get a feeling of an older cat watching over me and a long-forgotten butterfly in my stomach, but there are some things that also bring those moments to me. Like being there for Ashstar when he's pushed himself or when I wake up a little earlier than him and check on him. When he sleeptalks and accidentally says her name, I do smile."

"I don't wanna break this conversation, but do you know anything about Ashstar's family? Like his mother, father, sisters?"

At that, the little she-cat stopped. There wasn't a word shared between the two for the longest time, the only sounds coming from the line of cats ahead of them and the occasional fights between Dapplefur and Aspenstar. Yowls of pain rang in her ears and her eyesight grew, focusing everything on the brown warrior next to her. Mothpaw leaned against her, dropping the question to replace it with exhaustion.

"You don't have to share if it's something you don't want to. Most cats don't want to talk about his family," she responded.

"No, no, it's not that," Deerleaf answered. "His father is Emberflight while his mother, Vixenwillow, passed away due to sickness. There were three kits, you probably heard of two: him and Amberfeather. It's the oldest sister you want to know, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"She's still alive, doing her own thing. Ashstar said she's never been one to follow rules and would rather jump off a cliff than go through with a plan she thought was ridiculous. Right now, I don't blame him for thinking that. She's an independent cat that I would love to become."

"Who is she?"

"Oh, Mothpaw," she cried, lifting her head, eyes shaking. Deerleaf swallowed the lump in her throat like it was a rotten bird. "You still don't know?"

"No—"

"MeadowClan!" A boisterous voice shouted across the camp, stopping their conversation. Marching through the entrance with her head held high and a tired-looking Ashstar trailing behind her, Sleekfeather pranced through, eyes immediately spotting CinderClan. Behind the small batch of warriors were two cats Mothpaw found unrecognizable, and a warrior from CinderClan stirred at the arrival. Aspenstar hurried over, front legs working twice as hard to force herself forward as her back legs moved like sticks, joints unable to function properly.

She ran into the two warriors, who looked unharmed and full of strength that their clanmates lacked. One tom had piercing blue eyes and a thick, gray pelt with little to no scratches. His partner, a smaller, more skinnier, silver she-cat whose gray stripes stuck out like a bird's silhouette on a cloud. They both softened when their leader staggered over and came to her aid, prompting her to lean on them for the support. Aspenstar shoved the offer aside with a cold shoulder and pointed toward an open spot next to Lakestalk and Slatepaw. Understanding her orders, the two cats dipped their heads and padded over to rest.

Ashstar made the next move and went to the middle of camp, slumping down to briefly shut his eyes. MeadowClan came out of their dens and exchanged worried glances at one another and then shared some kind of sympathy toward the enemy Clan. Sleekfeather and Clearwhisker sat together, and Dapplefur worked her way toward the end of the line with a bundle of leafy herbs in her jaws, stopping momentarily to hear the announcement.

Mothpaw didn't need to hear the entire conversation to know that Ashstar had agreed to house CinderClan until they regained their strength to fight against the second group of rogues. The only interesting thing she got out of the speech was they had spied and picked up enough information about their leader, a stronger-looking tom that stepped on the tails of others to break the sky. Sleekfeather mentioned the moment she spotted Nettlestar, she declared herself to be the one who rips him out and throw from out of the stars. There wasn't any need to know that MeadowClan had to work twice as hard for the next couple of moons until CinderClan could join in patrols - that is if Aspenstar didn't make any rash decisions.

No, she found something more intriguing and noticeable than a Clan lead by a tyrant, or the Clan they had just picked up before a wave of blood annihilated their entire existence.

It was the fact a small, single flake fell from the sky from a gray cloud, drifting ever so slowly to the ground. The descent was long and painful, the tiny thing twirling in the open space, no longer stuck in a heap of other flakes like it. Mothpaw held her breath as it came closer, touching her pink nose, sending a small shiver down her spine. She tried to look at her nose without causing too much pain, and sitting upon her warm nose was a small speck of cold whiteness.

When she blinked, the tiny flake had melted and slid down her muzzle, and the slight shower of snow began to rain.