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The sounds were deafening. The storm, the cats, the water. It was all too much. Marshfur cowered in a corner of the camp, blinded by torrents of water cascading down her face. She didn't know where she was, she couldn't see. All she heard was the thundering storm and the commotion of cats scrambling out of the camp. Her legs were frozen, she couldn't move, just blindly and blankly stare at the blur of things she couldn't quite comprehend. Water and mud and debris sloshed around her paws, but she didn't notice it. She was panicking. Marshfur couldn't make herself move. Her mind was racing and she was telling herself to just move, or shout, or something, but her body wouldn't listen. Memories flashed in her head. The flooding of the caves.
Her mother. Her only sister. They had both died that dreadful day when the Clans were flushed from their cave homes. Marshfur looked at her paws. Was it her destiny to have a fate like that, too? Is that what StarClan wanted? The water was getting higher by the second, and still, she didn't move. Frozen. She couldn't move. The sounds of the storm starting to become overwhelming, the shouts of Clanmates nothing but a whisper compared to it. It came to Marshfur that she wasn't moving because she didn't want to. She wanted to stay here while the water engulfed her. She had to. It was her fate. That's all she could think. It was happening again because she had to be with her family. If anything she took steps backwards, the water starting to eat at her legs.