Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-27350140-20151115151414/@comment-27350140-20151117194718

Silverwhisker was resting with the other MarshClan cats, every single one exhausted by the long journey and the grief of losing so many cats. The grey-pointed tom could only feel pain, so much pain. He thought about their old home, and his lost mate and kits. Was StarClan really watching over them?

But no, not everything was lost, he told himself. This marsh seemed like a good area for a new territory, and there were other groups of cats nearby. Some might be helpful and welcoming. His ears perked up as he scented Rushingriver, standing up in surprise before pushing through the undergrowth. He couldn't scent her kits anywhere.