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Siren Bliss
Harlow was exhausted. The little ginger and white she-cat had traversed across dense pine forests, oak groves, and now found herself at the mouth of a roaring river. She was aware of the presence of Clan cats, and had heard many stories of their ferocity and territorial nature. A particular rogue named Sirius, whom she had met near the ShadowClan border, had some particularly strong opinions on the inherent nastiness of Clan cats. However, she didn’t care. She was relentless—something had been ruthlessly stolen from her, and she believed that these Clan cats might have answers. She was a relatively benign cat, and so far had not instigated any skirmishes.
Harlow was a small cat with a predominantly white pelt, and patches of ginger tabby dappling her back. She had large, almond shaped amber eyes, and her right ear had been savagely ripped off by a dog. She was thin and haggard looking in her present situation, having travelled relentlessly with little time to hunt. She padded down to the riverbank to drink, tail twitching gently as she lapped cool water from an eddy at the rivermouth.
“You may not know it, but you are trespassing.”
Harlow spooked, spinning around to face the source of the comment. Behind her was a tall, lean, marbled ginger tabby tom, his sharp teal eyes narrowed and unreadable.
“I...I know. You must be a RiverClan warrior.” She replied. He was slick and muscular, his limbs toned with hard sinew.
“Indeed. Then, I must ask, if you know this is RiverClan territory, and you know I am a RiverClan warrior, why would you risk your hide trespassing?” Larkstripe asked. His tone was more curious than confrontational, which made Harlow relax some.
“I’m looking for someone. A young cat, I’m his mother. He was separated from me, and I haven’t seen him in a very long time, but he is my only surviving kit, and I would do anything to know that he is safe. He once went by the name Rascal. He’s a very special cat, he always was...he has unusual abilities.” Harlow explained, almost desperately.
Larkstripe’s eyes widened,
“Tinypaw...” he murmured.
(If you would like Tinypaw to walk in on their conversation, they aren’t far from camp, or, I can have Lark lead Harlow to camp.)