Starclan's territory was beautiful, long dew-covered blades of grass that enveloped Specklefang's body in a sea of stars. The ground smelled of rich earth and lavender, soft and un-frozen under paw. The wind rustled the trees, the leaves shaking and falling as if their very nature was to hum the inhabitants to sleep with their song. Prey smelled rich, making any cats mouth water with the scent of it. The sky was a beautiful shade of baby blue with wisps of cotton-fluff clouds that softly mosied across the sky, the warm yellow sun warming the ground and evaporating the sweet dew. Murmuring could be heard from the starry formed cats with their faint pelt colouring as they chattered about their days alive, or the dream they had.
Specklefang got to her paws, slowly taking everything in as she adjusted her paws every so often. The wind easing her as her fur rustled and tugged with its will. Was this Starclan? She supposed it was, considering that she ate three death berries and died soon after, hearing the wails of sorrow from her clan-mates, their shouts of outrage. It was all for a good cause, they did not see it then, but maybe someday. Specklefang stepped gingerly, the cold for once not biting her paw pads, her joints not aching with a viciousness that often accompanied her. She just hoped that whoever killed Rowanpaw would not speak out, not after her sacrifice.
