Tear The Whole World Down [BlackCobra] May 25, 2019 15:53:41 GMT -5
Post by Bloodrose on May 25, 2019 15:53:41 GMT -5
A red-brown figure sat immobile in the center of camp. Early morning light filtered into the cavern housing NightClan, annoying in its brilliance alongside the birds singing to signal the arrival of another day. The last of NightClan's patrols for the day was set to leave, and she was unlucky enough to be a part of it. Her tail tip twitched from its post on her paws, sharp yellow eyes narrowing as thoughts continued to stir in the far reaches of her mind. Needle-sharp teeth ground against one another, near-constant anger giving way to impatience in this moment.
Darkstorm had become NightClan's leader. Shadowchaser was NightClan's medicine cat. Even Thornscar had bore their mother strong grandkits for the Clan to be proud of. And that left her. What had she accomplished? She was still apprenticeless, still just another cog in the machine that was NightClan. Her muzzle lifted slightly, body straightening instinctively as though strong posture could satisfy the vengeful wrath boiling like a storm in her chest. Claws buried themselves as best they could into the unforgiving rock below, shoulder blades protruding one after the other as the warrioress shifted her weight deliberately.
A dangerously glowing gaze flashed to the warrior's den once more, a disdainful snarl tearing at her maw as she noticed the entrance distinctly void of any signs of life. Snapping her stare back to the entrance, Cobrastrike snorted in annoyance. Lazy. Good for nothing. All of them. This. This was why she deserved so much more. She was worthy. How dare anyone think differently? No matter what she tried, she remained shackled by the failures of Nightpetal, Pinewhisker, and Foxstar. All her hard work, all her training, everything proved fruitless. What she would give to tear it all down, bring the world to its knees and show them all.
Rolling the growing tension in her shoulders and lowering her head, she could feel that burning want within her, the need to seize the recognition that was rightfully hers. She too would be great. Like Hollowcry had been. Like Darkstar was. She had to be, because if she couldn't, then no one could. As her muzzle lifted slowly once more, there was something dark behind her gaze. The raging inferno had dulled to searing embers, still hot but temporarily controlled by the grim determination wrapping around her. She would have the world, bit by bit. It might take time. It would certainly take effort.
But she was no stranger to hard work.
Ghost the Undead Goddess