[SuspiciousMindz]

Originally Posted by Lonestar23

For @Suspiciousmindz


Forestpelt sat in the clearing, the black she cat's green hues looking almost worried. Had she really accused a clanmate of being a traitor without proof? And not just one, but two? The thought was almost unbearable to the she cat. How was that even possible? How else could it be possible, she had done it and it was over. There was no point in worrying about it now. She had been right about one, but Foxspring... That had been a mistake. He didn't strike me as a traitor in the first place. So why couldn't I have left one thing alone? This is exactly how I lost Dawnstorm in the first place and maybe- maybe it's better that way. I'm better off forgetting about him too. We could never have been friends in the first place, let alone...Her thoughts trailed off and she sighed. Maybe there was some way for her to set this right. Correct? Maybe, maybe there was some way for her to apologize. Swallow her pride and just...do it. For a moment, Forestpelt's green hues flashed with determination before she sighed. Could she really put her pride aside? Unfortunately, Forestpelt had a strong will and even stronger pride. Doing this would be admitting she was wrong, something Forestpelt hated to do. But then again...maybe this wasn't admitting she was wrong, maybe it was just saying she had made a mistake. Same thing, The she cat thought before signing. Oh well. This would work. It had to.




Redflight sat in the clearing, the russet she cat drawing her pale tongue over her paw. If there were any cats watching her, she didn't notice, and if they dared to make a remark they would regret it. The she cat was not in the mood to be bothered. What a day! She thought, before sinking down and rolling over onto her side. The russet feline's green hues could see the clearing fairly well from her position...and scope out the other cats. Was there someone among them who would dare to test her temper? Was there someone among them who could even deal with her temper? No, probably not...right? As far as she knew, there wasn't a cat alive who hadn't become her enemy...or at least someone who strongly disliked her...because they couldn't handle a few well aimed facts. Red flight sat up, yawning and revealing her shimmering white, ivory fangs. The feline ignored any curious glances she might be getting as she stretched out, her spine arching before she stood up completely. Her green hues twinkled mischievously and she winked at some random cat, watching as their eyes widened in surprise. No, she wasn't interested in any tom. Or she cat. Redflight was more than happy to be flying solo, so to speak.

Foxspring padded, almost limped through the clearing, collapsing onto the ground with a grunt near the warriors den. That battle was not worth it. All he wanted to do was rest now, but he was tired of the warriors den and instead let his legs stop him near it. The grunt? Well that was just because he was in pain, as anyone in the fight would be. His chest specifically hurt much more than perhaps it should. Foxspring was a bit too stubborn to actually admit to it though or go see Kestrelberry about his chest pains too. For now, he would simply observe the clearing, wondering who fought for the old leader and who were traitors. The whole fight ruined the clans trust for each other. Anyone could be a traitor. Anyone could be a traitor therefore, he'd be extra cautious for the next few moons.


Jaguarclaw was laying in the clearing. Normally he'd be around helping his clan mates, seeing what he could do, but the large Bengal seemed broken. His normally bright olive green hues were dull with heartache. He did something in the battle that shifted who he was. Something he could never forgive himself for. How could he just kill that apprentice the way he did? To protect Marbledface in the warriors den? She could still fight for herself even if it was just barely. His friend had been hurt and he grew over protective over her. It was a bad combination for poor Miserypaw. As the Bengal laid there, his senses were dull. The scratches and nicks were almost invisible pain-wise along his pelt. He didn't want to burden their medicine cat with another cat to care for and he certainly didn't think he deserved to be healed. No murderer deserves to get better or to get sympathy. He mentally put himself down. That's all Jaguarclaw had been doing.