Post by F e a t h e r s t a r on Jan 7, 2008 22:39:45 GMT -5
The small tabby lept upon the grass. She was frail and thin, her fur a soft light gray color. Her nose was to the ground, the faint scent of her clan, brought her paws back to life. She had been traveling for moons, all on her own, in leaf-bare. She hadn't ate in days. But the hope that somewhere out there she would find her beloved MistClan again. How she yearned for the ocean spray. Her ears twitched and blue eyes sparkled, at the sound. She opened her mouth, another cat. Excitment pulsed through her veins, and then a tint of doubt, her hackles raised slightly. She would fight if she had to but only upon threat. In her days she had been a fierceless leader, many many moons ago before the time of the great move. Show yourself! she spat to no one, muscles tensed slightly.
