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| - This is a love story This is our story This is the story of how we loved each other, and how hope is only a tale I can still hear him. I don't know why I trusted him. "You're as talented as yourself." he told me. Why am I thinking about him? He is dead. He is gone. He does not exist. Not anymore. It's all my fault. My name is Fern. I should be dead. He should still be here. He should still be alive.... Cold. That is all I have ever known. My mother used to tell me stories of a world where it is warm. Where sunlight is golden. Where there is life. Where leaf-bare is over. I can't tell how much is truth, how much is lies. I let myself believe her. Her name is Riverlight. She is a clan cat. Clan cats shouldn't have kits with rogues. Especially medicine cats. We met on the coldest day. My paws were slipping away from me. My whiskers were frozen. My eyes couldn't see the hope. And my heart was stone cold. The hunger was consuming me. I was as good as dead, he said. Wasting away. And he was there. I could smell his prey, even though I was buried deep in the snow. I wanted to die then. I wanted to be rid of the pain. But now I know that pain is eternal. He could smell me, too. And I could sense his presence. It brought enough light for me to see the hope. And I followed. I woke up. He doesn't ask me my name. Instead, he asks me if I'm Lily. I don't answer. He didn't ask me my name. I wasn't telling him. Instead I asked him his. I don't say his name. It hurts too much to remember. I don't even think about it. But I will say it now. I will say it now, because I'm going to die. Fox. He died for me. We travelled far. We left for the woods, where there is less snow. We were happy, in a way. I had his kits. And he brought me hope. But we both knew that the cold would be back to haunt us. It was the kits that did it. One day, there was a storm. There was no rain. There was no thunder. There was no lightening. There was only wind. And the snow. One day there was no prey. One day, there were no more kits. One day, there was no more hope. The night he left, he handed me a shrew. It was the last thing he ever gave me. I didn't want to have it. I wanted to hunt for myself. But for the kits, I made myself do it. The night he left, I dreamed about him. I dreamed about finding us the hope that we dreamed of. All I thought was about him and how he loved me. It was only me. I left him under the snow, where he had found me. I left him with all my hope. I left him knowing that I was alive. But what he didn't know that I was going to die. At night, I dream about him At night, he is still alive At night, there is still hope. This isn't a tale for kits Nothing lasts forever Nothing gets what they deserve Nothing is eternal only pain. And there is nothing that can change it There is no light there is only dark and there is no hope- there are only echoes.
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