[Deleted]

to die alone
would crush the fish-lens we all see through
to kill the glare
expose the ugliness we hold true

---

The forest was silent as a copper figure pushed past the dried out ferns. This most recent leaf-bare seemed to drag on and on, the cold air clinging to the forest. The light dusting of snow served to muffle the pawsteps of the hunting feline, though it hindered his ability to blend in. Between his large frame and reddish-brown fur, broken only my large black rosettes, Copperpaw stuck out like a sore thumb.

Pale green eyes scanned the dead trees, searching for any signs of life. Dead quiet, not even a trace of wind to stir the bare branches above him. The apprentice tasted the still air, drawing a long breath into his parted jaws, tasting nothing but the chill of the season.

Realising that his hunting efforts wouldn't be rewarded, Copperpaw straightened from his crouched position, turning his head toward the NightClan border. If he couldn't hunt, then he would make himself useful in a different way, serving as a one-cat impromptu border patrol.

---

C O P P E R B L A Z E

[Phoenix]

Sootpaw

- - -

Had his fur taken on a lighter shade a gray rather than the dark gray so characteristic of his father, Sootpaw would have had a far better chance of blending in with the leaf-bare landscape. He noted the observation objectively, as unbothered by the similarity of his fur color to the snow as he was by the majority of the circumstances around him. He could change the shade of his pelt about as much as he could change the color of the flakes crunching beneath his paws, so he, in his typical manner, dismissed the thought from his mind. Practical as always, he reasoned that if there was nothing he could do to alter the situation, there was no point in wasting energy and time considering it beyond the initial observation. In any event, if he were to debate the worth of fur color, he would have to argue that his own, despite the disadvantage during leaf-bare, was the desired shade; during the other three seasons, the dark gray allowed him to blend in fairly well with the shadows.

But, as he could hardly change his fur color, it was a moot point.

Abruptly, he drew to a halt, and his slim frame, previously gliding smoothly through the tree trunks, stilled without warning in the shadow of a tree, as though he had been frozen by the frigid wind that had just ruffled his fur. Chilling eyes of a pale blue hue scanned his surroundings, and his expression, impassive as always, betrayed none of his thoughts. Keen ears had caught a peculiar sound, slightly different upon the backdrop of typical forest sounds, but different all the same; the mere fact that it had captured his attention indicated that it did not belong. The fur along his spine prickled, and he became acutely aware that his thoughts were no longer his only companion. In such close proximity with the NightClan border, it was only to be expected, for the distrust that lingered between the two clans demanded frequent patrols.

However, he was no less surprised to find his clan mate than he was a feline from the neighboring clan. Pale blue eyes landed on Copperpaw’s familiar reddish-brown fur, and though he had identified his companion, Sootpaw was no more inclined to step up and make small talk with his den mate. It was not in his nature to entertain with inane conversation, and the disinclination to instigate it was even stronger. Instead, he merely stayed where he had drawn to a halt, his indifferent expression no more hostile than it was welcoming. If Copperpaw sought conversation, the rust-colored apprentice would have to make the first move.

- - -