The water flowed down the mountain, catching the first rays of the rising sun. The clear water was turned a near orange in the returning light of the day. The roaring waterfall was the only noise, drowning out whatever other noise that could be around.

She stood there, light silver pelt shining in the rising sun. Her blue eyes glowed yellow, staring at the roaring water crashing into the river below. She was sitting, tail barely flicking in the shadows where the sun hadn't reached yet. She was near motionless, except for the flicking tail.

Her pelt was silver, and her eyes were like a pool of crystal clear water. And this was how Featherheart got her name. Her gaze was soft as she gazed at the crystal water, seeing her own reflection gaze back at her from the rushing water.

She wondered about her father, over in ThunderClan, wondering if he was thinking of her. And then, she wondered about her mother. She had never met Silverstream, whom had died giving birth to her and her brother, Stormfury, but she had heard wonderful stories from Mistyfoot and other warriors who admired her mother. Her eyes shined in pain, wishing, not for the first time, that she had actually gotten to know her mother.

She was glad she had Stormfury. He was her best friend and brother, the one cat that looked after her, and the one cat she looked after in her own way. Without him, she wondered where she would be. Probably not here at all...

Her gaze was still focused on the water when her reflection suddenly changed. She was staring still at herself, but was she really that dark silver? No, she was light, the last time she checked. She gazed harder into the water to she her mother's face staring back at her. In the moment it took her to gasp silently, the reflection was gone, replaced by her own light silver.

She was alone again.

It was an empty feeling, seeing your mother one minute and her gone the next. Her pelt flushed, and she shuddered, her silver fur bristling slightly. She closed her eyes a moment, saving that one glispe she had gotten of her mother, hoping she could see it again.

But when she opened her eyes, she was staring again at her own reflection.

And how lonely and disappointed it was.

Loneliness is indeed a terrible, vague emotion, more like a disease than a feeling. The only way to cure this terrible blight is to find company. That was what the golden Mothpaw intended as she padded up from behind the silvery she-cat. The dawn rays reflected the glittering droplets of dew that had caught in her thick ember-y pelt, giving her the frank appearance of a moth on fire.
Though not the most beautiful image to summon to mind (but certainly one of the most unusual), moths were unfortunately attracted to fire. Mothpaw didn’t share this trait, but she certainly appeared like she did as she rested by the warrior.
The crashing falls would have drown out the sound of Mothpaw’s words, but no words were uttered. It seemed like the apprentice was waiting for the sun to awake before she spoke. Hesitant, Mothpaw finally put her paw on the slippery layers of stone. The spray from the diving water soaked her fluffy paw almost immediately.
As the sun finally rose over the hills, Mothpaw began speaking. Softly, unusually soft for the energetic cat. “Good morning, Featherheart.”
She finally lifted her eyes from the sparkling liquid to the warrior next to her. She and Featherheart had trained together; the warrior was only a few moons older than Mothpaw. Mothpaw knew it was only a matter of time before Mothpaw and her eager brother, Hawkpaw became warriors. The young she-cat was waiting impatiently for the day where she and Hawkpaw sat upon the rock, received their sacred, warrior names, and sat vigil together.
Mothpaw and Hawkpaw had never been as close as Stormfury and Featherheart, but they shared their own bond. It was hard to describe how Mothpaw occasionally relied on Hawkpaw’s presence, whereas Hawkpaw didn’t want to rely on anyone.
Mothpaw spoke again, her voice barely heard over the falls.

“Why are you awake, at dawn?"

[ooc//Not particularly a great post, but it works.]

::er....her names Featherheart...^^::

She heard the soft pawsteps of the apprentice before she appeared next to her. She glanced over at her during the brief silence that hung in the air, before she turned and watched the water cascade down a bit longer. Droplets of water hung on her fur, but wasn't uncomfortable. When Mothpaw spoke, Featherheart flicked her tail in greeting.

"Good morning, Mothpaw," she meowed to her friend, a smile on her face features. Her ears flicked. The loneliness she had felt eariler was gone, replaced by friendship.

Mothpaw's question startled her. She flicked her tail again, wondering why she herself was up so early. She shrugged, looking back at Mothpaw. "It's relaxing. Everything's so quiet..." She fell silent herself, listening to the silence of the dawn. She sighed, breathing in the cool air.

"So why are you up so early?" she meowed, closing her eyes.

Mothpaw focused on Featherheart a moment, but then became distracted by the chirrups of the waking birds. Her ears still pointed to Featherheart, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention.
Mothpaw seemed tense, like a hunter rather than an apprentice at dawn. The sun had made little progress in the day, turning the clouds pink and bathing the ground in a pale light. The sun didn’t hurry enough for Mothpaw, who preferred day over darkness. During the day, you could see where you were going. You could see every move of your prey. At night, you had nothing but yourself. It was like being lost in a dark forest you could never escape.
Mothpaw was surprised by Featherheart’s question, but she answered it easily. “I’m trying to hunt for Shadepelt and Loudbelly before Mistyfoot puts me to work.” Mothpaw shrugged, her eyes still on a sleepy robin.
“So,” Mothpaw started, “How’s Stormpa – fury?”

During the few moments of silence before Mothpaw replied, Featherheart continued to watch the water cascade down the side of the moutain. Her blue gaze was glowing and twinkling. She loved the way water moved. So fragile at times, when a single pebble or leaf could ripple the surface, and powerful -like now- at a point that it could break a cats bones. Not only that, but looking at the water made Featherdheart think of her mother. It was as if her mother had been reborn to the waves...

At mention of her brother, Featherheart twitched her ears, turning her gaze for a moment back on Mothpaw. "He's fine," she meowed, flicking her tail. "I've not seen him yet this morning..."

Mothpaw quickly stood up and lowered herself into a hunter’s stealth-like crouch, crawling near a robin. Her flicking tail rustled a patch of grass loudly, and the robin turned its beady gaze on the trembling she-cat. Finally, Mothpaw was able to creep one more step, and the robin launched itself into the sky. Mothpaw leaped, her unsheathed paws stretching to trap the bird, but it was already roosting in a tree, staring at Mothpaw icily.
Disappointed, the now-dusty Mothpaw quietly returned to Featherheart’s side, listening to her response and grooming one paw lazily. Featherheart’s words didn’t particularly interest Mothpaw, but they did surprise her. Stormfury didn’t usually sleep in. Mothpaw didn’t dwell on it, however, as she looked to where Featherheart’s gaze struck. Mothpaw didn’t see anything unusual, only the falls crashing and roaring onto the rocks below. When she was a younger apprentice, Mothpaw had been amazed at the falling liquid, but now it was an everyday sight: till beautiful, but something that she watched every day.
Mothpaw noticed a slightly mournful look in Featherheart’s eyes, and wondered what the she-cat was thinking about.
Who knew? There had been so many misfortunes in Featherheart’s life. Her mother had been Silverstream, daughter of Crookedstar; her father was Graystripe, ThunderClan deputy. Silverstream had died when Featherkit and Stormkit had been born, and they were carried to RiverClan by Graystripe. When they became apprentices – and close enough to their father to really love him – he left for ThunderClan. Then TigerClan happened, and the young apprentices were abused, forced to watch Stormpaw’s mentor die, and starved.
At the though of TigerClan, Mothpaw struggled to keep her fur lying flat. ShadowClan was full of no-good, lying, cheating -- .
And your father was the leader of TigerClan.
So?
You should feel guilty for what he did to RiverClan.
That was before I was born!

Mothpaw stopped arguing with her almost-guilt and spoke again. “I’ll give you a robin for your thoughts.”

Featherheart just glanced when Mothpaw jumped to catch the robin. She said nothing, turning her gaze back to the falling water. She purred in response to Mothpaw's words.

"Looks like you lost the robin." She flicked Mothpaw on the shoulder, looking at her for the second time, taking the sting out of her words. She glanced back out at the water, sighing. Her own thoughts were so confusing, she didn't know if she could explain it.

"It's just..." She paused, glancing into the sky. "Everytime I look at the water, I see my mother. I don't know why, I just do. It's like she's now apart of the waves..." Her voice was soft, watching the clouds move in the dawn sky.

Mothpaw grinned. "I'll get it eventually." she said playfully, also watching the river.

The waterfall represented nothing to her. It was simply a rushing river, yet she appreciated Featherheart's philosiphical views. Mothpaw liked seeing things she could see, things she could touch... From StarClan of the Stars to the water, it meant what she could see: Stars and water. That's all it was.

"I think I understand..." Mothpaw said weakly, but it was obvious she didn't understand. It was obvious that she was trying to appreciate Featherheart's views. It was obvious she was failing.

The sun was visible now, and Mothpaw basked in its soft yellow waves. Her tail wriggled as she stretched luxuriously and lay down, her bright eyes still focusing on the cascade. "I'm sorry..." She said hesitantly. "I just don't see things the way you do..."
The silence lasted just a moment before speaking again. "So, what's the great part about bein' a warrior, besides getting to avoid grumpy ol' Shadepelt?"