Cinderpelt. I remember the day I first saw her, Whitethroat and I ventured to Thunderclan, hoping for help since our clan was terribly sick. We were exhausted, and Whitethroat was weaker than me. He collapsed when we were almost there, and I lay down beside him, far too tired to carry on. We were woken be a Thunderclan patrol, and all I could do was beg them to take us to their camp.

I remember the hostile looks on each cats face, and dread flooded through me. I guessed that we wouldn't get any help here, until one voice sounded louder above them all: hers. I remember feeling hope fill me again, as I looked into her sapphire eyes and saw reassurance. She explained to her clan that I had I fever, and, I felt safer with her there.

I remember Whitethroat telling everyone that there was far too little fresh-kill and herbs to go around, and that Nightstar was very ill. Some Thunderclan cats didn't believe us, I could tell by their expressions. I then explained how Runningnose let a kit die because he was so worried about Nightstar. I was desperate for their help, but, Yellowfang, our former medicine cat, insisted that we left. The leader at that time, Bluestar, agreed and ordered us away.

Grief seeped through me , I glanced at Cinderpelt, she gazed back at me, a sad look in her beautiful eyes. I knew she wanted to help, but Fireheart sent her back to Yellowfang. They took us to the Thunderpath, and there we were left to go back to our dying clan. I had given up completely by now, so had Whitethroat. We slowly made our painful journey back to Shadowclan, heavy-hearted.

A little while later, the sickness in Shadowclan was becoming worse. Whitethroat was worse than ever, I knew that he wouldn't last much longer if we didn't get some help soon. I decided that we would go back to Thunderclan and try again, partly because I wanted to see her again, hear her soothing words, smell her sweet scent. Whitethroat and I left our home again and began the journey to ThunderClan.

Dizzy with illness, I had lost track of where we were. Whitethroat was near to passing out, I could tell. I remember suddenly smelling a familiar scent, one I longed to smell every day. I remember seeing her rushing towards us, concern in her bright, blue eyes. She took us to a cave on Thunderclan territory, and each day would come back with a mouthful of herbs for us.

I remember when Fireheart discovered what Cinderpelt was doing. He was angry at first, but Cinderpelt spoke so strongly about caring for us, I was amazed. I didn't think that she felt like that about us so much. Fireheart had said that we must go, but I insisted that Nightstar was far too sick. He then asked about Cinderfur, our deputy. Of course, I didn't admit that he was dead, mostly because I was scared that Fireheart might tell all Thunderclan. Fireheart finally agreed that we could stay until we were cured. I remember feeling relief rain down upon me and I thanked Starclan, they hadn't abandoned us after all.

I remember when Whitethroat and I had to leave, and I remember swallowing the thought of not seeing Cinderpelt everyday. She gave us herbs for Shadowclan, and them bid us farewell. I had grown somewhat fond of her over the amount of time we spent on Thunderclan territory, and it hurt to watch her go. I knew that she obviously didn't feel the same way, and of course, she was a medicine cat.

A few days later, Shadowclan was doing much better, after I had given Runningnose the herbs form Cinderpelt. Whitethroat had gone hunting by himself early in the morning, and it was evening now. I remember a patrol bringing his body back, saying that he was found near the Thunderpath, smelling of Thunderclan.

As the moons went by, I decided to become a medicine cat. Cinderpelt had inspired me, and I wanted to be like her, Fearless yet gentle, brave and wise. I remember when Starclan accepted me as a medicine cat, I also remember seeing Whitethroat amongst the star-coated warriors. I grew more attached to Cinderpelt each time I saw her, but still, I knew she didn't feel the same.

Even on the great journey, when all the clans were one, I spent as much time as possible with her. I knew that I should stop dreaming and face the cold truth: She was a medicine cat AND in another clan, but I couldn't bring myself to stop thinking about her.

Finally, one half-moon, I decided that I would confess my love for Cinderpelt. I was nervous, in case she had no feelings for me, and only saw me as a fellow medicine cat. But still, I couldn't help hoping that she would feel the same way. I decided that I would do it as discreetly as possible, I obviously didn't want the others to hear. Taking a deep breath, I set out for the Moonpool.

I met Barkface first, and I scented Leafpool coming towards us. Something was wrong. Cinderpelt wasn't with her. I swallowed my anxiety and tried to breath normally. Barkface and Leafpool greeted each other, and Barkface had said something about Cinderpelt joining the ranks of Starclan.

I gasped and horror hit me like lightning. " Cinderpelt is dead?" I had said, trying not to show too much shock. Leafpool explained that badgers had attacked Thunderclan's camp and how they were too late to save her. I felt hollow, like a huge piece of me was missing. " She was a great medicine cat. I owe my life to her." Was the most I could choke out, my head swimming with woe and grief.