Dark clouds covered the starry night sky, completely blocking out the nearly full moon above that cast a pale silver light over the forest, dead leaves crunching on the ground as dark grey paws padded over them. Only three sets of legs working properly as the grey toned cat dragged one of his back legs behind him, the bones utterly crushed from the fall down the gorge and into the water that hid the jagged rocks, the tom's back leg having taken the brunt of the fall. His fur fluffed up for warmth, but he knew it was useless, he had never been able to shake the chill that still plagued him since the fall that had been a moon ago. Fitting for one with so cold a heart and soul. Just like Flowerstripe had been, at least that was the excuse that Kestrelfeather was using to think of what his mother had done.
The tom growled softly to himself, he had killed the cats who had caused him all this pain and betrayal, yet there was still something nagging him, the brown tom who had managed to push