you can keep your costume and you can keep your mask [o]

The outlines and silhouettes of Asylum cats lurked in every shadow, and in recent days there seemed to be a multitude of them looming over the entire Clan. Flashpaw found herself on edge, the way it seemed most of RiverClan was as of late. Even as she took a fish from the fresh-kill pile, having personally delivered some of her catches to the nursery for the kits - something she'd always done - and laid peacefully a short distance away, she was painfully aware of far too many eyes watching her every move.

Flashpaw was pretty, and she was proud. She loved to be the center of attention, when that attention was positive. And something - perhaps the water-clear memory of Lyralei's paw on Loonwhisper's throat, or the still-looming threat of something even more sinister - told her the Asylum cats' gaze wasn't something she wanted. Their attention seemed like something best avoided, difficult as it was for her to both accept and manage.

She naturally drew attention, if not for her striking appearance then for her sharp tongue and difficult personality; neither of which were things she could do much to change. And even if she could - she wasn't going to change who she was for the sake of anyone, least of all the strangers that had invaded her own home.