The Long Night [closed]

Feverish dreams often plagued Lichenpaw every time he sought the escape of sleep. Cryptic, muddled messages seemed to play endlessly behind his eyes, always repeating the foreboding words seared into his mind by Sparrowleaf. How was he supposed to save the Clans when he barely even knew how to fight or hunt? Drenched fur slicked down against his sides, chilly water streamed down Lichenpaw's glossy fur as he pulled himself free of the rapidly-moving river and up onto the stone-flecked shore of the nearby border. The smooth, well-worn stones of the Sunningrocks loomed in the dark night sky, an imposing outline against the jagged teeth of the forest just a few tail-lengths away. After spending the day fleeing in search of the so-called sparrows, he was utterly exhausted, but he was much too restless to sleep.

Find your sparrows, Lichenpaw.

Leaving behind a trail of droplets, the young tom clambered atop the surface of a nearby stone. The last time he had ventured here, he had encountered Thornpaw and Alderpaw- but the pair seemed to be nowhere in sight. Perhaps Lichenpaw was just condemned to sifting through the frightening prophecy by his lonesome.