Sharptooth blinked, peering up at the mist that engulfed her. She was lying on her back on something soft and warm. She felt no urge to move.
The former warrior felt... different. A blank slate wiped clean. A rocky landscape buried in new snow.
Slowly, gingerly, the she-cat rolled her shoulders. The usual pain, brought on by ages of sleeping on concrete and stone, was completely gone.
She stretched, relishing the strength and power that coursed through her veins. Even lying down, she could tell that her fur was smooth and clean. Moons of grime completely washed away.
She stretched her legs in the air, dragging them through the mist with kit-like wonder. Dimly, Sharptooth noted that the scars on her front legs and paws, the ones she earned in Twoplegplace, had disappeared. There were still a small slash across one of her front paws, though.
The brown tabby tilted her head and held her paw close to her face, drawing her tongue across the white stripe of fur curiously. It was a claw-mark- one of the first scars she ever got.
Sharptooth's mind was slowly growing clearer. Of course! Training with Boarpaw, Shrewpaw, and the others at Fourtrees. Fightclan. What a silly name.
It suddenly occurred to the former warrior that she ought to stand. Obeying the whim, she rolled over with a grunt and slowly pushed herself to her paws.
She shook her head, examining her newly-restored body with the air of a hunter inspecting their claws. Her muscles were strong, her legs steady. Her hips no longer jutted out of her pelt, her vision was clear, and her ribs were difficult to see. It was as if all the moons she'd lived as an exile simply hadn't happened.
Suddenly, like a shock, every memory came rushing back, each with painful clarity. Playing with her siblings, exploring with Boarkit, following Leafstorm out of camp. Waking Leopardclaw in his den so they could train. Patrolling with Coyotepaw, Reedpaw, and Shrewpaw. Her vigil. Her litters. Every fight she'd ever been in.
For a moment she was immobile, her eyes staring forward. Unseeing. Reliving every moment of her life and experiencing every emotion she felt. Shame. Love. Fear. Pain. Leafstorm falling into the gorge. Specklefang eating the deathberries. Facing a fox in the alleyway. Lying there, twitching, foam pouring from her jaws...
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