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Post by crimsonstar on Dec 6, 2011 13:03:08 GMT -5
A grey canvas of clouds hung above the world, a thick veil the sky could wear to grieve the Clans. The air was bitterly cold; the wind that lashed at the territories was a million of icy claws raking the flesh of the discouraged soldiers. In RiverClan, things were about to become far more grey and cold. Nobody had seen or heard of her for days, just the whisper of motion concealed in her foreboding den. No one had dared to venture in; a common understanding had seemed to somehow form itself. Naturally, it had been this way since Crimsonstar had returned from her visit to the Moonpool. The she-cat had grown more reserved and unapproachable, until she finally kept herself away in the leader's den, far away from the pale light that characterized these chilly leaf-bare days.
Yet this season was challenging. RiverClan cats, with all their feasting during the plentiful hunts of new-leaf and green-leaf, were nothing but loose skin on feeble bones. Phantoms and skeletons they were, thin outlines of the noble cats they had once been. In a word, life was miserable. In the hushed whispers of elders and senior warriors, no one could resist stealing a glance at the quiet den across camp. Sometimes, these looks were filled with worry and concern. But most often, you would find bitterness and anger. Their fairly new leader, abandoning them at this time. She might not be able to control the weather, but she was to blame. Her reputation had gone from being unfavored to secretly despised in a matter of days...
Crimsonstar knew this. She had always known. But there had been reason to her disappearances. The she-cat had found little comfort in the stone walls that surrounded her, but they were well enough to hide her sudden breakdowns. For many sun-cycles had she indulged herself in prophecy and
(post is a WIP)
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