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The scarred molly raised her muzzle to the sky; sniffing the rigidly cold air for the scent of the other three clans. Ripplegaze was at a disadvantage, she knew, due to the fact that her left eye was virtually gone and right ear torn to shreds. However, some were intimidated by such, and rarely spoke to her, so she doubted that a cat from another clan would try to fight her. The black feline unsheathed her claws, though her leaf-green eye showed passiveness instead of aggression. She wasn’t one for fighting, in fact she loathed the idea of anothers blood on her paws. She wasn’t on the side of the “peacekeepers”, as she severely questioned how it would be resolved without a fight. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. Not once, has she ever fought against a fellow cat. Never in her 27 moons of living was she face-to-face against another in the battle field. She didn’t even know where to start. Was it ok to go for the throat, like a piece of prey? Or was that “dishonorable?” She excelled in her battle training as an apprentice, though she was most likely rusty from her “-paw” times. Ripplegaze stood there quite awkwardly, not knowing what to do as she swished her feathery tail.