Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2010 8:39:45 GMT -8
The pale grey she-cat padded through the old Lurkclan camp. Things jumped around, like she was in a horror movie and it was shifting. But nothing really moved. It was all an illusion. A ruse.
She had changed a bit since the fall of Lurkclan. No longer was she the violent she-cat that wanted to shred everyone's throat. No, now she was a flirt. A terrible flirt that captured hearts. And if they irritated her then she would kill them. There were more than a few skeletons laying around the forest by her hand.
She had been known as Ariska then, the fierce she-cat what had ruined the Thunderclan deputy's paw. Riddlehawk. A cat hated throughout the forest by Riverclan and more than one loner. But he had gained his hate from Froststorm first. And that had set wheels into motion. Wheels that were turning even now and were setting events into play.
She padded slowly through the camp, memories coming back to her. She remembered sitting and talking with other cats, right before the Thunderclan raid for an apprentice. Remembered the hour of Fallenstar's demise. Remembered the clan splitting up into seperate entities. Remembered hearing of cats going to the clans, or going off alone. So many memories. So very many memories.
She sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws and surveying the place again. After so many long days, weeks, and months, she was back at the place where she had spent some of her most amusing days. Where she had made herself a reputation as dangerous by taking on a massive tom that could have easily crushed her with a single blow, and ruining his paw. In a way, it was her fault that Froststorm had held that first grudge against Riddlehawk.
If she had never ruined Riddlehawk's paw, he would never have beaten Froststorm half to death with the lame club of a paw. And Riddlehawk would never have lost his eye. Many cats lives would still be normal. She had set wheels into motion. And now there was nothing anyone could do about it. She just continued looking through the camp, just content to be there, with the sunlight filtering through the trees and onto her pelt.
[/center]She had changed a bit since the fall of Lurkclan. No longer was she the violent she-cat that wanted to shred everyone's throat. No, now she was a flirt. A terrible flirt that captured hearts. And if they irritated her then she would kill them. There were more than a few skeletons laying around the forest by her hand.
She had been known as Ariska then, the fierce she-cat what had ruined the Thunderclan deputy's paw. Riddlehawk. A cat hated throughout the forest by Riverclan and more than one loner. But he had gained his hate from Froststorm first. And that had set wheels into motion. Wheels that were turning even now and were setting events into play.
She padded slowly through the camp, memories coming back to her. She remembered sitting and talking with other cats, right before the Thunderclan raid for an apprentice. Remembered the hour of Fallenstar's demise. Remembered the clan splitting up into seperate entities. Remembered hearing of cats going to the clans, or going off alone. So many memories. So very many memories.
She sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws and surveying the place again. After so many long days, weeks, and months, she was back at the place where she had spent some of her most amusing days. Where she had made herself a reputation as dangerous by taking on a massive tom that could have easily crushed her with a single blow, and ruining his paw. In a way, it was her fault that Froststorm had held that first grudge against Riddlehawk.
If she had never ruined Riddlehawk's paw, he would never have beaten Froststorm half to death with the lame club of a paw. And Riddlehawk would never have lost his eye. Many cats lives would still be normal. She had set wheels into motion. And now there was nothing anyone could do about it. She just continued looking through the camp, just content to be there, with the sunlight filtering through the trees and onto her pelt.
