[Brunch]

A small form if a young warrior appeared at the edges of the dark clearing. Nightpelt was the dead warrior's name; beautiful and young, she was barely older than the apprentice that had just became a StarClan warrior, though she had died many moons before the apprentice had even been thought of. Sneaking out of the darkness, and into the light that shed over the small clearing, Nightpelt sighed, seeing the tears streaming down the young cat's face. "Don't cry..." the young she-cat comforted, her voice light and airy, a slight sweetness hidden in her motherly tone. "You're in StarClan now, you are fine now..." Though the she-cat knew how hard it was to die and find yourself in StarClan, she still tried to help the young Hazelpaw. She had died while getting some fresh air in the territory after a few moons of being stuck in the nursery with her kits. Without her knowledge, her son, Cloudyfoot-then Cloudykit- had followed her out to the territory, and she had tried to tell him to run, to save himself while she had fought the rouge. Still being weak from her kitting, Nightpelt lost the battle with the rouge, and found herself in StarClan. The moment that she saw the starry camp, Nightpelt wanted to be back in the nursery with her two kits, and she wanted to save her son, who was being taken by the rouge that had killed her. The queen had almost lost control of her emotions; she had almost burst out yowling and wailing. Luckily, one cat had comforted her; Nightpelt had long forgotten the cat's name, but she remembered her voice, as soft as silk. I know, I died when mine were kits as well, but you'll be fine, along with your son. At first, Nightpelt didnt believe the she-cat, though as time went on the queen fell victim to the truth. "Your mother," Nightpelt muttered to Hazelpaw her ears bent gently against her head, her white-speckled coat starry, "will always love you..." Nightpelt knew that the words she had just spoken were always comfort to any cat who had died, even if they had issues. Nightpelt's speckled black coat bristled at the memory of the day she had died.
Dodge this, slash his hind quarters was all that she thought that horrible day. Soon, the rouge tom's ally appeared, helping the fight. Too powerful... Too strong for a queen to take on by herself. There he was! At the edge of the clearing! Cloudykit, who Nightpelt had mistaken as Shadeclaw for a moment. Then, the rouge went to get him, her son, Cloudykit. She leaped at the rouge, aiming to kill him with a swift blow to the neck. She had completely forgotten the other rouge, who shoved her to the ground, and gave the finishing blow. "I will always love you, Cloudykit!"

Nightpelt shook herself back to the present; Hazelpaw needed her help, and it wouldn't be of any use to feel sorrow for herself. "If you need to cry," the queen whispered, "let it all out, it will help."