Emberpaw shuffled her paws at Lynxfuzz's answer.
Dogbark is weak? For... crying? She looked at the ground, her thoughts racing faster than a rabbit on Windclan's moors.
Does that mean... I'm weak? Because I cried? Because I don't want anyone else to...to... She winced as a flashback raced through her mind, seeing her little sister's fate all over again...
-----
The small, white kit looked at her with her big bewildered eyes, just starting to change from their blue that all cats have when born to a brilliant emerald green. The little kit giggled as she padded closer to the strange, foul smelling black stone. Ember looked on at the scene, wonder in her eyes. She carefully placed a little orange paw on the hard surface, confused by the substance. When she looked up again, her sister was much farther out, bounding over the strange path.
"Frost, wait, come back! Momma will be worried!" Ember called, looking back over her shoulder at the bushes, beyond which lay their den.
"It's fine Ember, come on-" her sister started to reply before a roaring drowned her out. The sound grew louder and the pair looked at each other, bewildered. Ember watched as a huge creature, its pelt shiny like metal, barreled towards them. Her eyes grew wide and she looked back to the center of the weird stone. Frost was stuck in place, cowering
as the monster bore down. In the very last moment, Frost turned her wide, frightened eyes and met Ember's gaze. She held out a paw, about to move, but it was too late.
She stood frozen at the edge of the Thunderpath, eyes boring into the sight before her. What was once her sister, bloodied and mangled, white fur stained with red. She felt the bile rise in her throat, but what finally snapped her out of her statue-like state was her Mother's scream-
-----
Emberpaw flinched as she endured the memory, eyes going wide and seemingly struck rigid once again. The familiar nausea came to her now, the terror of watching such a horrific scene unfold. She clenched her jaw and returned her gaze to her paws, her hackles rising. She wouldn't cry again, she wouldn't turn into someone Lynxfuzz would consider weak. She couldn't, right?
She felt her fur brushing Larkfrost as it bristled, but she was too focused on trying to keep herself from breaking down that it barely registered in her mind.
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