tGB || Only the Lonely

The sun had yet to rise upon the Light-Tribe camp when Norille set out. Her heart beat even faster than her cream-splashed paws as she ran northward into the depths of the forest. A pang of pride filled her for a moment. She knew this place well and had grown up around the Light-Tribe camp for most of her young life, only returning to her birth tribe’s home for a few days before attending the Ceremony of Light. Earth-Tribe had felt so natural and safe, but in all honesty life on Light-Tribe territory was more like second nature. Her only important tie to Earth-Tribe was Alasse, but that bond was no longer. Alasse… Norille pictured herself delving deeper and deeper into Nightwatch Forest until she disappeared. Her strong, wiry legs carried her there in forced, automatic motion, as her mind remained blank with rejection of thought. Or was it only temporary denial? So much change, so much pain, and so much joy all in one day. She ran until she could run no longer; her weak endurance left her in a wheezing fit, dizzy and lost in the neutral territory between her two homes—new and old. The orange and cream apprentice gathered herself together, sucking in a strangled gasp of cool early morning air. It cut into her desperate, heaving lungs with a vile sting. Anticipation and grief intermingled in her chest, procuring stirs of movement within her listless, numbed body. I’m an apprentice of Light-Tribe now. Light-Tribe! I’ll learn poison techniques and work alongside the healers…I can help everyone. Protect them all. But… Her words were half-hearted, she knew.

“Who is there left to protect? Oh, spirits, I’m so alone. Please—I can’t!” Norille yowled out to the silence. Her voice rang. The outburst was left unanswered. Only the rustling of the wind was there to comfort her, filling the silence left by her ragged breath. She closed her faded-sapphire eyes, wet with sorrow, to stop the flood of emotion. It was confusing. The she-cat was sad, but pleased that the Spirits had chosen for her a place so close to them. “I am no longer Primrose, Earth-Tribe kit. I am an apprentice of Light-Tribe, those who are blessed with healing. Now, let’s play together, Ivy. It’s been too long since the last time and I’m sick of doting on things like that,” she said. Her words hung in the air as the wind stilled and she forced a small smile across her muzzle. Norille opened her eyes and scoured the murky woods until they caught a gleam of bright fur. An all-white she-cat emerged from the thick brush, the shadows melting off her willowy form. “Which tribe are…oh, I see, you’re a Pink-Water.”

The tattoo of the Water-Tribe cats was stark in contrast to Ivy’s brilliant fur. The lovely, waving form set of a rosy glow against it that Norille couldn’t help but admire. The she-cat gave a shy smile as she came into view. “A Pink-Light. Fitting, for you, Prim. You’ll make a good addition to Light-Tribe’s ranks,” she mused.

Norille giggled a bit before the spell of new apprenticeship broke. “You’ll have to call me Nori from now on too. See? I’m not a kit any longer. Momma left and barely even said goodbye when she went. After the Ceremony…no, maybe even before, she was just gone. I guess she was so eager to see Dad and Eri that she forgot about me real quick, isn’t that funny? Momma always forgets. That’s why I’m glad I have you, Ivy. I’m sorry I haven’t been to play sooner”

Ivy’s muzzle was soft and kind as she approached her sister. Her piercing blue eyes reflected Alasse’s calm demeanor without the detachedness that could be sensed in her gaze. Their mother had often seemed to be elsewhere, probably thinking of her only son and mate. Norille felt great comfort in them, sinking into Ivy as she crumbled to the ground. Her legs gave like rotted wood, but her sister would be there. Her quiet, strong sister would hold her up when there was nothing else to. “Promise me…promise that you won’t leave me too. Not ever, okay? Everyone always leaves me”

The white she-cat’s eyes smiled with her this time, bright and warm. “Not me. I will never leave you, not as long as you live, Norille. Promise,” Ivy said. The cream-furred apprentice let out a jagged sigh. Her pain was soothed. “But you have to make lots of friends in your new tribe for me, then,” the white apprentice added. Norille gave a nod of assent, wiping teardrops away. She felt her heart skip as Ivy rose, poised for a gentle romp. Beautiful. Paws still shaking, Norille rose in a clumsy flurry of motion that was so different from Ivy’s elegant grace. Her sister was everything that she wanted to be, but no jealousy tainted the purity of her love.

The two rolled around, stirring up forest debris and occasionally the old, musty leaves left over from the autumn season before their birth. They played until the darkness of the morning had nearly gone and the sun had awakened. Rays of sunlight spread dappled spots of light upon them, illuminating the dense forest with a dim glow. Wet material and dirt clung to their pelts, disturbing the careful grooming that Norille had done beforehand. The Light-Tribe apprentice was soaked, but her Water-Tribe sister was in far more disarray. Her pristine, white pelt was almost a dark tan shade from the excess of muck that had latched to her fur. Ivy was lost in the guise of a swamp monster, much to her dismay, and broken twigs and pine needles buried into both their pelts like parasites. For a few moments their widened eyes blinked at one another in tandem; a mirrored pair of eyes that shone with surprise and laughter. No words were shared. I love you, Ivy. My only sister and littermate…if only…

Oh. That was right. ”If only you hadn’t died. I know you would have been my closest friend. You would love me no matter what. Always and forever, you’d never leave me. We’d have played together every day and gone on real adventures and—” Norille’s voice cut out, choked by her grief. The image of her beautiful, quiet sister, the one she’d conjured in her mind, stood motionless and pale. The white fur she had dreamt up was white and perfect once more. The blue eyes that gazed back at her were not Ivy’s, but Alasse’s. Ivy had never seen the light of day. Ivy was gone before she had even taken her first breath. Gone before she had ever been at the side of Primrose, or of Ergot. Gone before her mother and father and sister and brother could know her. But, if she had lived, she would have seen the bright face of her wild sister that welcomed her with open arms. She would have seen her brother’s sightless eyes and have been proud of him for his heated bravery and skillful strength. She would have known how her mother paid Ergot more attention and doted upon him more than she would anyone else. She would have stood alongside Primrose, her only sister. Would have loved her enough to make up for it, and loved her mother for her calm compassion regardless. Ivy would have met and appreciated her father, Caelum, for both his loyalty and heart. She would be graceful and pretty; perfect for the flowing poise that the Water-Tribe cats carried in every step they took. She would be a strong warrior with a fair, kind disposition. I cannot imagine her as anything less.

The unborn, white apprentice began to turn away from Norille’s gaze, eyes sad and pained. But even that was only her still-living sister’s imagination. Ivy’s fictitious form reflected the lonely hurt that was felt by the new Light-Triber. “I will always be with you, just as I promised. Somewhere you often won’t see me,” Ivy said. She lifted a dainty paw to the tattoo mark on Nori’s chest—the one directly on her heart. Norille smiled at the thought of the gesture. It was a genuine smile, one that was not of her own volition but of her true emotion. She gathered her inner strength and exhaled. She spoke aloud, not to Ivy but to herself.

“Today is a new dawn. One day, I may see my family again, but until then I will remain strong. I will become a great poisoner, not for my sake but for the sake of my tribe. I will be everything that Ivy cannot become, for her, my dearest friend. And then one day, I won’t be so alone,” she whispered. Norille blinked once, and her sister was gone. No other creature stirred. She let out a small laugh, snorted at the dirt on her tangled fur, and headed back to the camp. She could only pray that no cat had noticed her absence yet. But if one did, then she didn't think she would mind.