Starting Anew[C]

Copperlark padded forward numbly, her paws bringing around with no clear idea of where she was going. The wound on her belly had recovered somewhat... at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. She cleaned it constantly, peeling the chewed herbs off the wound several times a day to wash it and apply a new layer. The rest of her days were spent hunting and sleeping. The tortoiseshell queen had been looking for a place to set up at den, somewhere suitable for her to raise her kits. But she had yet to find any place that was far enough from the Clans.

The queen stopped as she reached a small puddle. She lapped at it in silence. She hadn't spoken to anyone in days, and the silence was starting to become unnerving. She awkwardly got back to her paws. Her increase in weight had been more than she expected, and since her leaving hunting had only become harder and harder. Copperlark sighed, then turned away and began heading further into the stretch of woods.

Copperlark's head snapped up as soon as she had heard the sound of paws hitting wood. A scrawny tortoiseshell tom stood on top of the shredded log, an annoying smirk on his face. She frowned, put off by the rouge's comment. She wasn't that far into her expecting... right? "I'm fine," She mewed curtly, giving the tom a warning glare. He better not try and fight her... she didn't know if she could still fight as well as a warrior with her size, but surely, as long as she could bite, it wouldn't be too hard to chase this flea-pelt away from her. But then again, she hadn't spoken to another cat for days, and this rouge didn't look hostile. Maybe he could point her in a direction for her to settle down.

"Do you live around here?" She asked, looking around again. This area didn't look as wild as some of the other places she had been to, so surely someone must be coming by here quite frequently. Was this place a potential site for her new home? Her gaze travelled over the flowers scattered about, and she couldn't help but think about how much Cedarstalk would have liked this place. The thought of her late mate gave Copperlark a bitter taste in her mouth, and she quickly shoved away whatever thoughts she had about him. He was dead, for star's sake. His spirit shouldn't be haunting her here, so far from the Clans.

The rouge's anxiety didn't go unnoticed by the queen. Was he scared of inviting too many cats into his territory? Did he have something to hide? Copperlark's eyes narrowed. "I travel alone," She mewed simply. He didn't need to know how she got here, just that she was. She took a step back as the tom got a little too close. There was a rotting scent about him, like crow-food or Twoleg trash, neither of which she would ever take as a good sign. Speaking of Twolegs, she needed a bit more information about this place before she settled down. "Do Twolegs or dogs frequent this place?" She asked, scenting the air. She couldn't smell anything, but that was because of the overwhelming scent of the flea-bag beside her.

Copperlark listened in silence, pondering. No Twolegs, and she could handle the occasional dog. It wasn't the best place, but after all this searching she was beginning to think no where would be perfect. She turned to face the tom at his suggestion. Shelter? Was he inviting her to stay with him for the night? The she-cat hesitated; she should probably say yes. She had no where to go. But she couldn't find it in herself to trust this rouge, not after living in the Clans for so long and knowing how some of her friends had been attacked by rouges. It might not be this tom, but she couldn't risk it.

"No, but thank you," Copperlark shook her head. She didn't want to cut him off completely-- what if she needed his help in the future? "I'm Copperlark, by the way. What did you say your name was?" She asked innocently.