Dawncurl is born into perfection. Her mother always told her that life was a blessing and that she should never take it for granted. However since the birth of she and her brother, she was instantly cast aside by her father who favored her brother and claimed he would be heir to the throne. However, the roles will soon reverse when Dawncurl is discovered to be a skilled strategist and combatant. Not just skilled, but a prodigy. With this information she is finally given the praise she's always craved from her father. Along the journey, she finds out her family isn't so perfect and she will become the victim of it all. As a looming darkness unfolds, Dawncurl will fall under the hold of her father. Adoring his praise, she goes to grave measures to ensure that she keeps it, no matter the consequences; even if it means hurting the cats that she loves most.

A crow of perfect sleekly black wings alights upon a nearby dead branch. They flare like an omen as it settles. Cautious, beady eyes observing the mangled, undead creature dragging its body forward. Tottering and teetering out of the bushes. The spitty hiss it makes as its decayed teeth - yellowed and full of pulpy bits of bloody flesh - snap and bite. The crow chatters quietly, another landing idly next to him. No cat noticed the first signs until it was too late. ~ Alt. Summary: A terrible virus has ripped through the clans, worse than what any cat has ever seen. In the forest, the undead begin to roam and abound. Resources are scarce, and every last heart beating is left to fend for their own safety by any means necessary - lie, cheat, steal or kill. Cats turn against each other; murder one another. Blood paints the sky. An ill-fated she-cat from ShadowClan struggles to survive as everything falls against her.