"Come now, Pinefire. Don't tell me you don't recognize her? The fur and eyes should be enough." Leafpatch was right. Pinefire did recognize her, but it was impossible...he'd seen the lifeless, bloody body for himself. The she-cat hauled herself to her paws, and as she came into the sunlight her fur became a glistening silver, and the color of her eyes was intensified."Oh, so now you think I'm a real ghost, huh? I never died, Pinefire. My breathing was labored, and probably barely noticeable. I knew the clan was going back to camp to treat the wounded, and I knew that I'd be dead by the time you got back. Before that, however, another cat found me, a rogue. He took me back to a make-shift clan of rogues and loners and they healed me. Pinefire, please, look at my pelt! Am I really a spotless cat from Starclan?" Pinefire did look closer, and he noticed the scars and scratches where fur hadn't grown. They were scattered over her back, and one went down her the length of her tail, and a few small ones covered her head."Pinefire, who am I?" He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He couldn't. Too many memories. Too much grief."Pinefire, if you had died that day, I wouldn't have taken help from that clan. I would have stopped my heart myself while I laid in the midst of cat corpses. I only came back to the territory for you, and if you can't accept that I'm alive, then I'll just leave." Pinefire looked into her eyes, searching for something. His heart beat quickened at the thought of never seeing her again."Say it." Pinefire took a deep breathe before whispering,"Silverpaw."
Snaketail collapsed onto a bed of ferns, somewhere in the territory. He had just run, mostly with his eyes closed. He was exhausted. He curled up into a ball and thought. His mother had told him to forgive. Forgive his father? How could he do that? He started shivering as he contemplated the leftover shreds of his life.
((I practically started crying while I wrote this. ))