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Murderers in LightClanAdderclaw eyes flickered open as he woke up. The tom pulled his tail away from his face and started to stretch his legs out with a yawn. He stood up and padded out of the den.
Lightningfall looked around the territory. It was very confusing to her, not like HOllowclan.
Coalkit squealed as Falconkit tackled her, sending them rolling into the fresh kill pile.
Lightningfall ducked under a bush, noticed the apprentice looking at her.
Serpentpaw cocked her head and cautiously followed.
Darkkit approached the freshkill pile. "Are you okay, Coalkit?" She called, searching for her in the mess of dead prey.
Coalkit popped her head out, a mouse on her head. "I'm fine!" She grabbed Falconkit's tail and pulled him out, purring with laughted as Falconkit rolled over. "Oh no, it's the murderer! She's got me!" He squealed playfully.
"Nowhere. Get back to camp." Lightningfall mumbled.
Adderclaw trudged through the snow with narrowed eyes trying to find his favorite napping place.
She looked back "ok,
Dawn's Echo Part 1What exactly is an echo?
Well, the dictionary defines the word as "a lingering trace or effect"
My Echo had a similar definition. Her life had an effect on me, like no other. She taught me that anything is possible.
Here is the story of my Echo Dawn's Echo.
Well, to first tell this story I have to go back in time. Back to when my Echo wasn't even alive yet. Back when I still never knew the meaning of true love. Back to when I was completely focused on my clan LightClan.
I had just met the former rogue Chaser, and I made the decision to ask him to join LightClan. His warrior name was Dustchaser. We became fast friends, and pretty soon, I wasn't ever seen without him by my side.
It was precisely two moons after he joined LightClan when he told me to take a walk with him in the moonlight. It was the night before the full moon, the silver light melted through the trees, creating scattered shadows
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More