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Larkwing ran. As if they had a mind of their own, her paws carried her away. The wind made her eyes water until she could barely see where she was fleeing to.
Away. Just away. Her ears throbbed, her heart almost seemed to want to burst. Energetically, Larkwing clenched her teeth. She couldn't weaken.
Behind her, she heard a hiss — far too close. Larkwing instinctively pulled her tail to her flank. Not a moment too late, for the brown she-cat snapped shut with a clicking sound, exactly where Larkwing's tail had been a moment ago.
That was close. Larkwing took a hair's breadth turn to the left and dashed off amidst the Skydens. The vines seemed to be denser here, yet thanks to her small stature, she had no trouble slipping under them. Whereas the strange she-cat would get caught in the thorns because of her long pelt.
In fact, she didn't seem to follow Larkwing, whereupon the tortico she-cat slowed her run and finally stopped, breathing heavily.
Hidden between two tendrils, she kept a watchful eye on the direction she had come from. A screech could be heard again and again, sounding a little closer each time.
Larkwing flinched, startled. Could she be following me after all? She turned her head wildly in all directions. Maybe she should try to run back to the others. The seven of them would surely manage to push this creature back.
With one last look back, Larkwing was about to turn around and make her way out of this maze when suddenly a pair of flashing golden eyes appeared barely a whisker's length away from her.
She had come from the other side. I thought she was behind me the whole time!
Every fibre in Larkwing was geared to escape. But suddenly her body no longer obeyed her. Her paws, which had previously carried her as swiftly as the wind, were so heavy that she could no longer take a step.
"Who... no, what are you?" Larkwing whispered distraught, unable to take her eyes off the tendril coming out of the brown tabby she-cat's body. She felt sick. Great StarClan, how in the world can she still be alive in this state?
Growling, the brown tabby she-cat bared her yellowish, broken fangs. Very slowly, as if she were stalking prey, she placed one paw in front of the other, inevitably coming closer and closer to Larkwing.
Then, just as the tips of her torn ears brushed the black vine above her, her expression changed from bloodthirsty to agonised. Howling in pain, she jumped back, her muzzle curled. Staggering, she rushed forward again, but when she came into contact with the tendril once more, she hissed in torment.
Strange. Even though there is a tendril inside her, it's also incredibly torturous for her to touch one.
Uneasily, Larkwing looked at the tendril wrapped around the Skyden next to her. What was with her? Would she react in the same way?
