The scent of blood hit the sleeping cat's nostrils like a monster to the face.
No.
It was the only word that rang through the silver cat's mind at that time. The only concept of life she knew, besides the overwhelming need for revenge. Slowly standing on her feet, the elder padded outside, narrowing her eyes at the pelt streaked with red. Cats were already beginning to gather to mourn the death of the she-cat, who she could tell by scent was Hailwhisper.
She remembered her and her sister joining her when she was storytelling for the kits. She'd told the story of the Deomilites, and she remembered that story well. It's not like you can just forget that, anyway. Brief scenes from the battle flashed behind her eyes, and she blinked, the memories disappearing. Padding forward slowly, she looked down upon the bloodstained pelt. There was deep gash marks in the white she-cat's neck. And ShadowClan scent on her pelt. "Whoever did this.. shall pay." The old, small she-cat looked around at the cats as they looked at her curiously. "And if you do not agree-- then Stormheart and I will take their whole Clan on alone." She hadn't heard Reedstar, as she was awoken by the strangled cries of her sister. And her words rang with truth, as well. Because she meant them. She may be old and her paws weak, but she could still fight.
