Sitting down and looking upward, she took in the blue of the sky she was named after, wondering if her mother had found such pleasure in looking up at the sky, just as she did now. Ignoring the strange emptiness she felt, she let her head drop to its normal position, enjoying the soothing breeze.

After spacing out briefly, she stood, taking a small stroll to the almost empty fresh-kill pile and looking down at the mouse from the previous night. Oh well. She'd leave it for some other cat. Besides, squirrels were much better.

Walking away from the fresh-kill pile and trying to ignore the constant and nagging thoughts of prey, she wandered closer to the medicine den than she would have liked. Sure, it had been a long time since she'd been scolded, but things like that always tended to stick with her. Shuddering at the memory, she quickly walked away, finding herself a nice spot to get away from the rest of camp.

She loved the small gap in-between the elders' den and the apprentices' den, finding it quite calming in the early morning when the elders were still asleep and the apprentices were either out tending to their chores and duties or sleeping themselves. It was a great place to take a nap, enjoy the sun, or listen to one's own thoughts.

Closing her eyes and imagining a kithood where she had her mother there beside her, she felt the emptiness within her swallowing all of the calm that had been given to her when she had sprawled out on the ground. No. She was fine. She was happy. No cat could take that away from her, especially not one that she didn't even know.

"I'm fine. Not everycat needs to have parents by their side. I'm sure that, no matter what, Windrustle was still there by my side in her heart. Besides, I have a Clan. I don't need a mother or a father when I have them."  She thought, not realizing she said it out loud. 

"Greenleaf is just about over. Soon, we will start to see the leaves turning brown and falling from the trees," he announced. "It's the perfect time to focus our efforts on hunting. Mistyleaf, Shadefrost, and Sunstrike, go ahead and focus on the Northforest for now. Greypebbles, Oaktall, and Smallbird can take the south, including Sunningrocks." He had to make sure that Riverclan knew that part of the territory was still theirs.

"Leopardrose, you may lead a border patrol with Stormfall and Dovethorn. Coyotebloom will lead the Moonhigh patrol with Brindlespice and Larchsong. As for myself, I will be focusing on working with my apprentice, and I expect Wrentalon to do the same. That is all."

The sun had just begun to rise above the clouds that coated the horizon and Gingerthrash, against his usual disposition, was already awake and chewing on a woodchuck as he rested his body on a branch that gave the camp an overhang and gave the lilac caramel elder a perfect view of the happenings in the camp. His amber eyes narrowed at the apprentice den. The only cat in their worth their weight was Rimepaw... maybe Finchpaw, but he wasn't bothered to try and convince himself of that.

Evidently, his thoughts carried to Cherrytree, recently lost to her own age. He was the oldest in the elders' den now and was faced with thoughts of his own mortality, what he left behind, what ThunderClan would do without him, how his kin would cope. The wondering was silent, strangely enough, but the scent of the half-ravaged woodchuck temporarily broke him out of his dreary thoughts for another bite.

It had been Robinpaw, his great granddaughter, that really found Cherrytree, himself second, after being woken by the calico's depressing whines. Gingerthrash was above making such noises, even if it was the cat that brought his bloodline to a continuation. Well, if he did die, he'd be fine with knowing that his blood still flows strong through ThunderClan, if not in Robinpaw or Finchpaw, then in Rimepaw. Perhaps he could make it to her warrior ceremony? StarClan knows, but he had time left, he was here, that's what mattered.

To was too clear of a day for one of the less… interesting elders to be resting in camp, he saw Orchidflame leave a little while ago, too chipper for his liking. She was mouse-hearted, if anyone had to ask him. 

However just because Gingerthrash was displeased at how good Orchidflame’s mood was, didn’t mean that he wasn’t in a fair mood himself. Didn’t mean he flaunted it to every cat that could see that vibrant dappled coat in front of their eyes. It wasn’t very often that Orchidflame was proud, she had nothing to pride herself on, it wasn’t like she was Fierceblooded. That would have been an improvement on her behalf if she were.

At least some new blood was connected to his own, he had watched Rimepaw’s ceremony a few days ago, Wildcry was back in the elders’ den as well, he appreciated her presence at least. His grand-niece was good company and knew the meaning of what it was to be Fierceblooded. Unlike his own granddaughter and her kits. 

What was the point of her having kits if they didn’t portray their line? Even with Rimepaw trying to whip them into shape, which had been noticed and appreciated by the old lilac caramel tom.

His thoughts drifted far away from his territory and into the headspace of a tom much younger and wondered how his RiverClan kit was doing. What kind of life was she living and would she ever have kits of her own? Heavy eyes drooped as sleep tugged at his fur, grey muzzle sinking into his paws to flitter into a shallow dreamlike state.

Deeper...and deeper he slipped, Lilyripple's face smiling across from the river... It was a good dream, and one that would eventually lead to the physical obstacles like territory and bodies obsolete to join with her in StarClan.