Salmon sat near the den, the autumn wind flying through her pelt. She stood, watching the leaves fall. A storm rumbled up ahead, not that she cared though. She didn't care anymore. She was nearly two moons now, and already she'd been through too much heartache.
"You should speak to her," she heard Rain say quietly.
"What do I say?" It was her father's voice now. Salmon ignored him, watching more leaves fall. A large roar of thunder rumbled across the sky.
"You must help her," she heard Rain whisper.
"Shouldn't I help myself too?"
"But it is different for her."
Salmon tried to ignore their conversation, but she couldn't. She could hear them behind her in the den, and she unsheathed her claws and sank them into the soil.
Cherry Blossom had passed only about ten sunrises before. The tribe had been in mourning ever since, especially her and her father.
Salmon's heart ached as she thought of her beautiful mother. She remembered when her mother had become ill, she was welcomed into the healing den. Her mother had laid across a nest, thin and fragile. Salmon knew she was going to die the moment she saw her like that.
Oak was adamant though that she would live. He would visit her every day, while Salmon was only allowed to visit her once every few sunrises. She remembered that one day when she had sat by her mother in silence, only to feel Berry's tail lightly touch her.
Salmon had twitched and turned to face the cream she-cat. Berry had stared at her intently, then spoke. "You are a wise she-cat, Salmon. You have already accepted death when your father refuses to believe in it."
Salmon had sat there, not replying. She had not known if Berry was true about her wisdom. Wasn't it obvious that Cherry Blossom was in a terrible state?
Berry had not left her alone though that day. She continued to speak to her, saying, "Perhaps it is best if your stubborn father learns from you. I've seen you, Salmon, and I do believe you should be the one to rule after your father."
Salmon had replied that time. "Ruling is something I don't want to focus on."
Berry had left her alone after that, and several sunrises later Berry had broken the news to Oak and Salmon that Cherry Blossom would not live, and she would probably die later that night.
Oak had broken down easily, but Salmon had stood strong. She had looked at her paws, wondering why she was being punished with her mother's death.
That night, Salmon had slipped into the healing den near her mother's side. She had watched as her mother's eyes slowly opened, and she was amazed to see the slightest curl of lips from her mother.
"My dear Salmon," she purred.
"Mommy," Salmon said. She had not heard her mother's voice in days.
"You must help your father cope," Cherry Blossom said.
"But, Mommy, I'm a kit," Salmon complained.
"You're a very special kit," Cherry Blossom told her. "And you'll surely lead well."
Salmon hated cats bringing up the idea of her leading. At only a moon or so, she did not want to learn about leading the tribe.
"Take care of your father for me," Cherry Blossom told her.
"Why won't you stay, Mommy?" Salmon asked.
"I will stay with you, Salmon. Do you not remember the stories I told you? I shall be in the cherry blossoms every spring. Each spring, you may visit me," she purred.
"But spring is too long away," Salmon complained.
"With patience it isn't. There is something else I must tell you, Salmon. Something I have not told anyone," Cherry Blossom told her.
"What do you mean?"
"You are not the kit everyone thinks you are," she said.
Salmon had opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but her mother had shut her eyes, refusing to speak anymore. Salmon had exited the den, hearing of her mother's passing in the morning.
Salmon attended the burial ceremony. Her mother had been buried next to a cherry blossom tree that would bloom in the springtime.
Afterwards, it was finished, and the tribe still could not function right. Oak refused to leave his den for days, and Salmon had sat alone in the birthing den.
Now she sat as rain poured down. It was obvious that winter was well on its way. Soon, the snow would fall, and afterwards, when it melted, the cherry blossoms would bloom. For some reason, this gave Salmon hope.
"Salmon," Oak said.
Salmon turned, facing her father. She had not looked at him in days, and his eyes were swollen from tears.
"Father," Salmon said. It was better to refer to him in a formal way now.
"Your mother is still with us, you know," Oak told her, sitting down beside his daughter.
"I know," Salmon said. "In the springtime she'll be in the cherry blossoms."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Oak asked. "You've been silent for days."
"I'm fine, but will you be, Father?" Salmon asked.
"When I speak to you, Salmon, it's as if I'm speaking to an adult member of the tribe," Oak told her.
Salmon heard the voices of Berry again and Cherry Blossom. You are not the kit everyone thinks you are. All she wanted to do was learn what that meant!
"I've always talked this way," Salmon told him.
"You've changed, Salmon," Oak said, standing up. He turned, facing her. "Look on the bright side," he paused, then spoke coldly, "You'll be leader now." With those words, he padded out of the den, leaving Salmon alone.
"He's broken," Salmon sighed, tracing her paws across the floor. Rain sat in the corner of the den as her kits slept. They'd be training very soon, in a matter of days. Salmon wasn't sure if her father would be able to organize the training in time. He was not coping well.
"Salmon," a voice came. Salmon froze, turning to see Storm. He stood tall over her, though he did not stare at her with the same negativity as usual.
"I-I'm sorry about your mom," he said.
"Don't be. It was for the best," Salmon told him.
He looked at her, shocked. She then exited the den, heading into the woods to visit her mother's grave.
"It is my great pleasure to welcome Storm, Honey, and Mouse in the honor of training to become full members of our tribe," Oak yowled. The three young trainees stood, their smiles wide with joy.
Salmon even managed to let out a smile too. She would not be depressed and forget to live like her father. No, she was able to cope with her mother's death.
"You know the drill," Oak said, turning to the three. "Anyone is allowed to train, but to prove yourself, you must first go into the woods to catch a piece of prey. Failure to do so will result in banishment from this tribe. We need the strongest members we can get."
Salmon watched as her father said this coldly, and not as spirited as usual. It was the tribe's tradition to send the trainees to catch a piece of prey. They got as much time as they pleased, but if a cat were to give up, they were exiled to live on their own, not worthy to be part of the tribe any longer. It rarely happened, though Salmon had heard stories of young cats being thrown into the woods.
The three ran off, leaving the others to do their daily needs. No cat seemed to care where Salmon went now, and she padded into the woods to the cherry blossom tree where her mother laid.
She stopped as she came across it. It was bare, preparing for winter. Salmon sighed, sitting down beside it. She knew her mother could only hear her speak when the blossoms were present, but this did not stop Salmon.
"Well, Mother, I'm sorry that Oak has not recovered. I've tried, but he won't cooperate," she said, slamming the ground. "I worry about his health. If he dies, that automatically makes me leader, but a kit can't lead. I've thought about what you said, Mother, and I still don't understand it. Who am I? Do I possess powers that no other cat has? What do you mean?" she sighed. "If only you could hear me."
As she padded away, she watched as snow began to drift down. The first snow of the winter. She rushed back to the tribe center, heading towards her father's den. She had to speak to Oak.
"Daddy!" she yelled, instead of "Father".
He slowly made his way to the front of the den. "Is everything all right?"
"No," Salmon said, walking into his den. Normally, this would be considered rude, but she was his daughter and the future leader. She seemed to be able to do whatever she wished.
"Mommy wants you to get better," Salmon told him.
"You've spoken to Cherry Blossom?" Oak asked.
"No," Salmon growled. "But she told me to watch after you. You have to lead, Daddy! The tribe can't survive if you're like this. Cherry Blossom is still with us, and you need to realize that!"
"Are you criticizing my leadership?" he growled.
"No," Salmon said, sitting down. "I just want you to get better."
"These things take time, Salmon. You can't simply just get over the death of your own mate in a day. You did not just lose a mother, Salmon, but I lost my mate."
"What's the difference? The love is the same. Please, Daddy. Be yourself again."
"I can try, but there are no guarantees," Oak said. He stared at Salmon intently, then turned away. "You're just like your mother, always telling me what to do and how to solve my problems. It's hard to look at you without thinking of her. Now go, I have a tribe to lead."
Salmon smiled a little and left. Maybe things would get better...