freedom in captivity [c]

Zinnia had, all her life, considered herself to be a patient cat. Lately, though, fate seemed intent on testing the truth of that belief: the Asylum's arrival, the pain and death that had accompanied it, and the striking feeling of being captive in her own camp all poked and prodded at her ability to remain calm and collected, like an itch she couldn't quite reach.

Not to mention that these cats were the same that had terrorized WindClan seasons before; the very threat she'd stayed on the moor to defend against before it became her home. That the Nightstrikers' predator-skins, their claws and teeth, had haunted her nightmares almost as much as the blood they'd shed.

Still, the watchful eyes of cats that seemed to have more in common with the predators whose skins they wore than their own kind could not prevent that which needed to be done. Cats were cats, whether they resembled themselves or foxes more, and more cats meant more mouths to feed. While their - Scouts, they called them, from what she could tell - certainly brought in prey, Zinnia couldn't help eyeing it with suspicion; and she had a feeling that at least a few of her clanmates would share that sentiment.

Angering their unwelcome captors, however, was certainly not in the Clan's best interest; and so she approached an Asylum cat who was finishing off a piece of prey. Vaguely, she recalled this as the one who'd seemed quite hurt by WindClan's unhappy response to their arrival. The one her daughter had shown an interest in befriending. "You," she said, lashing her tail. Her voice was direct, but not particularly harsh. "Come with me. Spotlake and I are going hunting."

Thalia glanced up from her near-finished mouse, visibly confused. Why would any of the WindClan cats want anything to do with her? This was the one that had stood close to their leader, what was her name again... It wasn't the strange sort of name that most of the Clan cats had, she remembered that much, but the specifics eluded her. "...Me?"

"Yes, you. Thalia, isn't it? You're meant to supervise us, aren't you?"

The young Nightstriker blinked, as if she'd also forgotten her duty - in truth, she'd simply been hoping no one would approach her and that she could slip away from the moor for a little while; but it seemed her wishes weren't to be granted today. "Um... Yes. Okay. I won't be hunting with you, though. Just supervising!"

"That's quite alright." Trying not to let the bitterness she felt show in her voice, Zinnia called over to where her fellow warrior stood, "Spotlake! I've found us supervision, so shall we go?"

Spotlake looked up from where she stood and nodded at Zinnia, running up to her. "Yeah." She said. She turned her gaze towards Thalia and her eyes slitted for a moment. She hadn't quite trusted the Asylum cats yet, and was extra wary of them. Letting out a sigh, Spotlake turned her head back towards Zinnia, her eyes dilating. "Lets go."