The sweet scent of freshly bloomed flowers flowed through camp on the breeze, Rainflower a silver-striped molly with beautiful blue eyes entered the camp with fresh-kill in her mouth and a crown of flowers in a wreath around her head. The she-warrior closed the distance between the entrance of camp and the fresh-kill pile and placed the two sparrows down onto the pile, before she took a magpie for her dinner.
She sauntered away, her steps graceful and dainty like raindrops falling softly within a light rainstorm. She settled down in a soft emerald-green grass patch and began to take small bites out of the magpie, all while she stared up at the sky, watching the moon ascend and join the canvas of the night sky next to the orbs of starlight. Silverpelt was shimmering bright and clear tonight.
Rainflower couldn’t help but wonder if former mentor Feathershade was looking right back down at her, proud of the warrior she has become. She would like to think so, that her mentor was watching her from above in Starclan. She missed her mentor something fierce, a painful piercing agony rippled through her very soul, and she sighed softly, but smiled despite it.
She knew her mentor wouldn’t want her to bellyache and burn herself out over grief. So instead, she whispered, “Thank you Starclan and Feathershade for my successful boon this night. May Skyclan continue to prosper underneath your starry gazes.”
With that she finished up her meal and began to groom herself, licking her paws and drawing them over her face to remove any feathers or blood from her maw. She then began to brush her paws across her fur, straightening it out and fluffing it up.
The light of the moon and stars shimmering within those sky-blue eyes of hers, as she hummed to herself.