The exile of three warriors. What a way to precede resting one's head for the night, eyes falling shut while her mind races of thoughts of a cornered Roaringpaw and Ploverhop. How could she have been so blind not to see the lengths those three would go to, just to prove a petty point of blood right? Apprehension threatens to claw her heart from her chest as she curls in tighter on herself, a light rain beginning to fall outside. Nose tucked into her moss nest, her eyes flutter open as a low rumble of thunder promises a heavier storm to come. Morning patrols just might need to be delayed if this keeps up into the dawn; she's sure Flamewhisker won't be too pleased. At least she can sleep soundly enough during a rainy night, and as she shuts her eyes again, she drifts off into a star-crested sleep.
When eyes part, Howlingstar finds herself high up on an unfamiliar cliff. The storm has picked up tremendously, and she can see the clear sky be overtaken by dark, rolling thunderclouds as cold rain begins to pelt her skin. Her eyes squint against the onslaught. She can hardly see a thing, save for the brief flashes of lightning that claw the heavens. Wind howls past her ears, carrying urgent whispers she cannot make out. She sinks her claws into stone, fearing the gusts themselves will knock her off of her perch. As the storm continues to pick up, the tabby leader lets out hissed exclamations of pain when the raindrops themselves begin to slice at her pelt like the talons of the eagle that had carried her off and away from her home. And the rain keeps coming, coming, coming, and she can't escape it. It fills her mouth and her nose, weighs down every inch of her pelt until her legs shake in an effort to keep standing. She can't breathe. Stars, she can't breathe! The rain is choking her, drowning her, filling her lungs until darkness creeps into her eyes.
She can't see a thing now, except for a pair of stars. Or are they eyes, watching her as they flicker in the dark? They’re almost familiar…but before she can place it, they’re gone. And then there is nothing.
A crack of thunder jostles Howlingstar away and she sits up in her nest, heaving breaths. Exhausted eyes flare with a spark of fear as she stares at the pouring rain outside. Was that...an omen?
She swallows.
Am I going to die?
When eyes part, Howlingstar finds herself high up on an unfamiliar cliff. The storm has picked up tremendously, and she can see the clear sky be overtaken by dark, rolling thunderclouds as cold rain begins to pelt her skin. Her eyes squint against the onslaught. She can hardly see a thing, save for the brief flashes of lightning that claw the heavens. Wind howls past her ears, carrying urgent whispers she cannot make out. She sinks her claws into stone, fearing the gusts themselves will knock her off of her perch. As the storm continues to pick up, the tabby leader lets out hissed exclamations of pain when the raindrops themselves begin to slice at her pelt like the talons of the eagle that had carried her off and away from her home. And the rain keeps coming, coming, coming, and she can't escape it. It fills her mouth and her nose, weighs down every inch of her pelt until her legs shake in an effort to keep standing. She can't breathe. Stars, she can't breathe! The rain is choking her, drowning her, filling her lungs until darkness creeps into her eyes.
She can't see a thing now, except for a pair of stars. Or are they eyes, watching her as they flicker in the dark? They’re almost familiar…but before she can place it, they’re gone. And then there is nothing.
A crack of thunder jostles Howlingstar away and she sits up in her nest, heaving breaths. Exhausted eyes flare with a spark of fear as she stares at the pouring rain outside. Was that...an omen?
She swallows.
Am I going to die?
