Burrface's ears were pinned back, fur bristling.
Traitors all around me! She thought. Brighttalon's face, in her mind, was twisting and twirling into different shapes. At one moment, he was snarling, at the next, he was crying. One of her hallucinations even had his muzzle splattered with blood. The fear scrambled her thoughts; her mind was making up images to repair where the gaps were.
Burrface paced around him, belly low to the ground, eyes never leaving his face. She sniffed his fur. He didn't smell of blood, nor sweat. He seemed clean. Burrface stood up to face him, still upset.
"It's hard to believe you dare growl at your senior." Her pupils narrowed.
"Are you even Riverclan? Or are you a kittypet, a rogue who snuck into our ranks?" Burrface's voice was accusatory and gritty.
This was unlike her- to be overly defensive, reactive. But the rumors of internal fighting, killers among them, disoriented her. Any cat could be out to kill; it sent shivers down her spine.
Riverclan was not how it used to be. She reminded herself.
Starclan is turning it's back on more and more cats.
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Phoenix Fall