[Deleted]

I have changed, I have changed, just like you, just like you...

---

Fog blanketed RainClan territory so thick it was hard to see where one placed their paws. Staring down into the water rushing past in the camp stream, barely able to see the slight glimmer of reflected light on the surface, Ashpaw thought of the battle with her uncle, reminded of the cold water surrounding her as she struggled to break free, her lungs burning for air that she could not reach. She had thought she was going to die. How stupid. She returns to her Clan, a place she was supposed to be safe, at least in comparison to the unforgiving mountains, only to be killed by her own kin. Drowned. What a way to die. She would have been pissed if Surgeclaw had managed to finish her off like that.

Her tail lashed once behind her and her claws flexed out to sink into the earth as though it was Surgeclaw's pelt. That murderous bastard was still alive, still out there. He could kill again. She stood then, pacing beside the stream, through the fog, as her tail continued to lash behind her. Everything was slowly returning to normal in the Clan but she couldn't stop thinking about how they had just let those murderers go free. She knew very well it was in the warrior code that an honorable warrior did not need to kill to win their battles. But she also knew that it said UNLESS. Unless the enemy was outside the code. These cats had murdered Clanmates. Letting them go free was a mistake. They could kill again.

She turned in the direction of the mountains, staring up at where they should be, if the fog didn't block them from view and wondering where they had all gone. Had they stayed together or were they wandering alone? Were they sitting around plotting revenge? Would they try to tear RainClan apart completely? The fur along her spine rose uncomfortably and she glanced around, feeling as though she was being watched. That feeling had been right more often than not in the mountains, had saved her life on a couple occasions. She stood, squinting through the fog for any sign of movement, her claws unsheathed and ready for whatever came at her.

---

I'm still alive, I'm still alive, I cannot apologize, no....

Fawn

[Fawn]

42 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior

One of the only creatures that didn't seem to mind the foggy weather, was currently leaping through the wet, dew-flecked grass with a red-furred RainClan warrior in hot pursuit. Russethawk's ears were pricked forward as far as they could go, his attention to audio cues heightened when he knew he couldn't trust his vision. How did NightClan cats do this?

RainClanners weren't built for speed on land, they were built for timing and grace, two things that seemed hard to achieve when chasing after frogs. Russethawk lunged, cursing vocally when his claws sank into mud instead of the rubbery skin of his prey, and left behind two furrows in the soil as he propelled himself powerfully with his back legs to shorten the increasing distance. The frog landed amongst the reeds, and Russethawk thrust his head in after it, his paws slapping down here and there to stop the frog's progress to the water - but it leaped clear of the ruddy, muddy claws trying to grasp for it - and landed with a wet plop into the camp stream.

Russethawk scowled, and in a moment of sulky behavior fit for a 'paw, flicked mud off his paws after the frog, turning back to see if he hadn't frightened off any second or third chances. A familiar tabby and white pelt made itself known in the fog, though it was more the suggestion of a cat than anything he could confirm with sight alone; Russethawk scented the air, uncertain. There was a high chance it was a Clanmate - thus, his fur stayed flat to his body - but there was also a small chance it was... a StarClan cat. If Stormstar's ceremony hadn't happened in the way that it had, Russethawk would've been more skeptical of their starry ancestors making any surprise visits, but... He kept his mind open to the possibilities.

His nose said Clanmates, his eyes said hazy cat-shape, so he cast his doubts aside and pressed on through the fog to greet them.
"Hi Ashpaw," he mewed as soon as he was close enough to properly recognize her. Seeing that her claws were unsheathed and her gaze was... a little intense, Russethawk smirked a bit, feeling the scabbed cut down his face pull a little with the gesture. "Gonna turn me into a tabby?"

... Get it? Stripes? Scars... Er, never mind.

Word Count: 390 Words Tags: @zen

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