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| - As night closed in, a white bakula flower fell from its tree, filling the air with its fragrance. Water spilled over the ledge, making the white pool bubble. A shaft of moonlight sliced through the canopies like a claw, and the tip of it dug into her nose. The scent of fresh moss was digging into her nose as well, and she longed for her nest back in WindClan camp. No, Sweetpaw told herself. This is the life I chose to live. The wind whistled in her ears as she continued to pad through the forest. Each step she took, she became more nervous. Should she really have left? "P-poisonfoot?"
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| abstract
| - As night closed in, a white bakula flower fell from its tree, filling the air with its fragrance. Water spilled over the ledge, making the white pool bubble. A shaft of moonlight sliced through the canopies like a claw, and the tip of it dug into her nose. The scent of fresh moss was digging into her nose as well, and she longed for her nest back in WindClan camp. No, Sweetpaw told herself. This is the life I chose to live. The wind whistled in her ears as she continued to pad through the forest. Each step she took, she became more nervous. Should she really have left? Two blue ears flicked forward with alertness, and nostrils flared, Sweetpaw took another step forward. The moon beamed down upon the scene, a silver guardian in the dark velvet sky. Stars twinkled merrily around it, their glittering faces turning the pool into a sliver of silver in the otherwise dark forest. They were like little armies of cats; ready to go to war. It reminded the former WindClan cat of the tales she had been seldom told, of the Dark Forest battle. Firestar, Onestar, Mistystar and Blackstar had been the leaders of the Clans then. She could just imagine their determined faces, and imagine the excited looks of the warriors that trailed behind them. What was it like to be a leader? She would never know now. If only she knew where she had gotten her odd fur-coloring from. Sweetpaw glanced at her surroundings. The sound of the pool bubbling had gotten a bit louder, and she could hear the faint rustle of leaves. It was like she hadn't walked a mile since she entered this little grove. The sudden cover made her uncomfortable. Where would she live now? Would she live in a dingy den with rogues? She could imagine their eyes in slits, bright with bloodlust. Their claws sheathing after the deed had been done, and the blood glinting in the moonlight. Her own blood. The image was so frightening that she suddenly began to run, running so fast that she could hear the gentle waters suddenly roaring in her ears, as if she were running up the waterfall. She shut her eyes, flattening her ears back to her skull. Sweetpaw didn't know how she looked to any cat passing by, but she probably looked like a rabid fox having a seizure. Picking up speed and never stopping, no matter how tired she was; Sweetpaw had to keep running. As far away from the lake as possible. The lake; the lake brought back too many memories. Some were good, some were bad. It was mostly the bad memories; the good memories, the stories she was told- her imagination was vivid, but not vivid enough for the story to unravel in her mind. Her heart thrumming painfully against her ribs, the blue-and-white she-cat finally opened her eyes. Looming before her was a wall of swirling, ice cold mist. Astonished, she lifted a paw and slowly placed it in the misty wall. A roar emitted from the depths of the misty world- if there was a world behind the wall, that is. There seemed to be something holding onto Sweetpaw's paw, for it felt numb, and she could not pull it out of the mist. A set of dark amber eyes seemed to glow in the swirling black mist; the moonlight glinted off of sharp, yellow fangs. Sweetpaw's heart began to thud harder, and she began to squirm. The pair of eyes seemed to be growing larger, and out of the mist emerged a large white serval. One paw lifted off of the ground and pale yellow fangs still gleaming, Sweetpaw flinched again as she saw him part his large jaws. "You are trespassing on our land," the serval snarled, flicking his tail. Sweetpaw crouched in submission, tail and paws tucked neatly underneath her. "I-I'm sorry," she squeaked. The serval simply looked away, amber gaze darkening. "It’s too late to say sorry. You set one paw over our border- you cannot leave us. Ever." He then turned to look at Sweetpaw again. "I am Ariurze. And you are?" Sweetpaw swallowed nervously, trying to stop herself from glancing at her paws. "Moonlight. My name is Moonlight." The white serval grinned. "Well, Moonlight, welcome to Poisonfoot," he meowed. "P-poisonfoot?" Ariurze walked around behind Sweetpaw- no, Moonlight- and grabbed her by the scruff. He reared up on his hind paws, and then flung her through the wall of mist. Moonlight parted her jaws to let out a loud screech, but no sound came out of her mouth. Purple mist began to wreath around her neck, making her gag. Ariurze went sprinting past her, a long stream of blue mist grasped in his mouth like a giant mossball. "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it," Ariurze’s voice seemed to bounce off of the misty walls of the den-like place they were wandering around. “What’s that supposed to-“ Moonlight paused mid-sentence, seeing the mist clear. Ahead of them was a tall, majestic castle.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)