[Role]

A starry figure began to fade onto the grassy grounds, curled up as if he were sleeping. The figure awoke, blinking open his leaf-green eyes. Leafclaw raised his head in alarm. Where am I? Is this ShadowClan? But ShadowClan is.. Finally, he understood. I'm dead, he realized. Ears pinned back, he remembered his final moments with dread and grief.

Leafclaw stood up in alarm as the water lie at belly height, rushing and pushing. Sprinting out of the den, his foot dropped downward. Was there always a drop? Now forced to swim, he first swam to the Nursery. "Whitestep," he called with difficulty. "Berrykit, Hollykit, Willowkit, Owlkit!" No response. Cold dread made him go numb. Gulping in a deep breath, he dove under the rushing flood water, and entered the Nursery. No one was there. Leafclaw must've looked too long, because his lungs ached. Swimming back up to the surface, he gasped for air, but was hit by a wave. Cold water filled his jaws. No! Furiously clawing at the water, he began to panic. Slowly, he began to let go of his ambition to claw to the surface. Maybe, just maybe, he could get some peace and quiet, and sleep for a while in the cold water.

Leafclaw sighed. Whitestep would be devastated. Leafclaw sighed again, and stood up. He might as well find something to do here, in StarClan.

(Open!)