smoke & mirrors (hiatus)

.: chapter twelve :.

.: ♕ :.

WHITEHAWK was a small cat. Very small, Oakstripe thought. Then again, Oakstripe herself was a very large, muscular cat, so maybe it was just her that thought the king's advisor was small.

He had six scars digging into the side of his skull, and a shredded ear. He held himself like a king, and his extraordinarily long claws were extraordinarily unsheathed.

Heronskip's face was painted with terror— Dewleap looked ferocious. The gray tom bared his teeth in a snarl and took a step towards Whitehawk. "Clearly you aren't the only cat that gets prophecies," he snarked.

Oakstripe was surprised to see Dewleap act this way. He was usually so mellow and calm. Why was he snarling at the king's advisor?

Whitehawk said nothing, but lashed out and sliced Dewleap's cheek open. Blood gushed from the wound. Dewleap took a few steps back as Heronskip ran over to him.

Oakstripe looked Whitehawk dead in the eye. The white and brown tom turned to look at her. "Ah, you're the construction worker that makes miniature sculptures.." he said, seemingly to himself.

"That's me," she replied warily. "Why are you concerned that we got a prophecy?"

At that moment, Fawnsplash appeared to tend to Dewleap's wound. She did not question Whitehawk's presence, but shot him a look that Oakstripe couldn't decipher.

Whitehawk then clicked his tongue, and three cats appeared from behind him. One of them- Oakstripe recognized him as Honeypath, an elite warrior- pushed her to the ground, and that was when she lost consciousness.