[Silver]

There was a smell in the air now; a certain thickness to the feel of it against her fur that told one resident of RainClan that a thick fog had settled around the camp. Rainblossom was different from those others around her. She had never been able to see and yet she was a Senior Warrior and well respected in the clan. She was calm and thoughtful and brought back prey just as everyone else did, so why would anyone think to question the quirks she held? It was her most closely guarded secret and one she felt she would have to keep for the rest of her days. It was...a sad thought in some ways, but she couldn't find it in her to mind really. Until she knew she could trust others as she had her Mentor and the she-cat that had raised her, she would never tell another sole that she was any different from them. So she patrolled with the others, she hunted just like them, and she fought just as fiercely as any other Clan cat.

Yes she did tap the tip of her tail against trees and rock sand sometimes other cats as she went by them, but as she'd done it for moons upon moons now many had simply accepted that it was just part of who she was. Her Mentor had told others, when she had first started doing it, that it was Rainblossom's way to feel close to her ClanMates because at that time she had lacked certain social skills. It had been believable enough, she supposed, and it meant she'd continued making her way regardless of her lack of sight. The world had always been dark for Rainblossom, and she'd never really been bothered by it. She knew her way around now after moons of marking the territory through each step and stumble. She moved confidently now, because of that, even through the deep fog that had come to hover over the many water sources the clan boasted of. Many cats had gotten lost in the fog, and she'd dutifully led them out and ignore their curious queries as to how she had managed such a feat.

It didn't matter, she was useful wasn't she? And she hadn't let the fact that she couldn't see stop her from leading a life that she chose. She was a Senior Warrior. She was strong and confident and knew herself very well by this point in her life. And yet...and yet...why did she still feel lonely? Why did she feel far apart when surrounded by an entire clan that help cats that were her friends? She knew the answer to that though, didn't she? Ever since Snowdrop had passed on she'd felt like she'd been set adrift in a clan that was once so familiar to her. She still found her way as she always had, but now things felt different somehow. There were no more warm words from the she-cat that had saved her life all those moons ago. No more affectionate licks to her ears and gentle laughter when she tapped her tail against Snowdrop's side and accidently tickled her. It was like all the warmth and love in her world had been sucked out and she didn't know what to do. So instead, she wandered in the fog, feeling somewhat comforted by the fact that for once in her life the entire clan would see the world as she did.

And yet...and yet...didn't she want more from her life than to simply exist? But she had been alone for so long by now what was the point? None would want her if they knew her secret and she wanted to trust any cat she chose for her own. So maybe she would remain alone for all her days, that might be best. She didn't need a mate or kits like all those silly queens, she would be just fine by herself. She would take care of her clan and enjoy the company of her aged Mentor while it lasted. She would be fine, she would. So why did that make her heart break so much just to think of it? She didn't know, but it wasn't worth it to linger on things she couldn't change so she pushed the thoughts away. She'd be fine, she always was.

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Words | 744

[Fawn]

TOM RAINCLAN 17 MOONS

The fog suited him. Though it dulled and tricked the white tom's senses the same as it did any other, Coldrush felt confident as he walked through the thickened mists. Now would be the perfect opportunity for revenge, if the rogues - the leftover trash from this little war - were feeling vindictive. Coldrush did not pray to StarClan for them to commit the error of trespassing on RainClan territory once more; he did not pray because he was not a faith-minded cat. Rather, he weighed the likelihood of such an attack happening, and the odds were split 50/50. Those odds were something he could believe in.

So he prowled, alone, into the foggy, soggy territory, looking to see if his hypothesis would be confirmed.

Instead of the opportunity for bloodshed, Coldrush discovered another - alone, like himself - in the fog as though the weather did not hinder her like it did their other Clanmates. Coldrush found her name, after a moment's pause, and greeted her with a cool dip of his head. It was important to remind his Clanmates that he was not as... frightful as his body-language and word-choice would indicate; though he lacked his father's natural charm and social charisma, he could 'blend in' if he needed to.

"We're fortunate," Coldrush mewed. "To fish in the river without the fog getting in the way." He did not envy their land-prey hunting neighbors. It brought him some satisfaction, however, to picture the rogues struggling in this weather to sustain themselves. If they starved to death, he'd sooner laugh than cry; he had nothing but disdain for those traitors.

A slow death would almost seem too kind.

Words: 275 Words Tags: Silver Notes: =) I hope you don't mind me hopping in!

DON'T CRY MERCY, THERE'S TOO MUCH PAIN TO COME