The Fog is Deep [Closed]

Crowstar looked around at his quiet camp for a moment while everyone was settled down for the night. A guard sat at the enterance to alert anyone to intruders. The skyclan leader had many late night outings. It was really the only time he could get some peace and quiet. The fluffy tom padded past the guard with a nod before heading deeper into his territory. The leader weaved in and out, and between trees heading for a certain spot he liked. His favorite tree. It allowed him to see so much, even with some other trees blocking the view.

The leader let out a small relieved sigh when he finally reached the tree. Normally he would jump up into the tree as soon as he got here but there were clouds in the sky so he wouldn't be able to see much as he normally would. For now he sat at the base of the tree. His yellow eyes closed as he listened to the night time sounds of his territory around him.

Although the dark tom was listening, his pursuer was dead silent. The soft tendrils of mist glided over the ground so quietly that it was undetectable by any natural force, save for the sudden chill it brought with it. As the fog drew nearer to Crowstar, glistening white in the pale moon's light, the short grass and light undergrowth it passed over began to freeze over from the sheer cold. The mist was to have yet another victim, according to its own desires...

The fog, creeping up on Crowstar from behind, curled and spread to engulf the tom's surroundings. It had cut him off from all that was around him just as quickly as it had appeared, confounding his senses and even forming thin sheets of ice in his thick dark pelt. The atmosphere was cold enough to make his breath visible in the air, but the mist crowded so close to Crowstar that not even his own whiskers were visible.

By the time the mist had finally cleared, the formerly occupied space was completely empty. The only clue that there was ever a cat there was the lingering scent of Crowstar, which suddenly came to a halt, accompanied by frozen vegetation. A slight, echoing sound bounced off the trunks of the trees, too quiet to be clearly heard but easily understood: soft, shrieking laughter expressed hidden glee at the fog's triumph.