from ashes [closed]

It wasn't normal for a cat to come to Fourtrees outside of the gathering.

The list of reasons for why they would come to the clearing were small. Almost all options were ill-fated. Ceremonious at best, devious at worst. An attempt to meet with a secret lover on neutral ground where no claws would have to be shed. An excuse to see a territory other than one's own. A forced path to go to Highstones, should they come from one of the territories that typically cut through the clearing of the four great oaks in order to convene with their ancestors. Sometimes, on the rare occasion, one would come here to simply take a break from it all. Usually, that happened during the darkest hours of the night, when the forest was blanketed in the onyx, star-speckled grace of Silverpelt.

Not during the middle of the day.

A gentle breeze rippled through, carrying the scent of the forest in a dance. It may as well have been the darkest part of night for the molly in question. A creature of the night, having found such affinity with it that it had become a partial shock that she hadn't deciphered her Shadowclan heritage sooner. Something about the evening called to her, beckoned her into its dark embrace. Perhaps, however, it was because of the smallest ripple of life that she found herself awake at this time. Where the flowers would be in full bloom. Where she could attempt to find the patch of lavender in its full glory.

Perhaps where she would meet a friendly face.