The queen of conniving she was, a beautiful mahogany pelt she wore and blood orange eyes that scored the darkness with scorn. A deep empty chuckle following her pawsteps, swift and feathery her footfalls echoed as she crawled the land of the living but much more devoid of life. Her life stalking with her, memories of her schemes and great betrayals. Her attempt to dethrone Cinderstar, her bitter failure to assassinate her own father. Everything was a puzzle, she was damn good at weaving her webs, this widow had done plenty enough to know her name still echoed the lands with fear.
Apricotpaw, had been a joke, a constant failure at pretending to be happy and okay. She had been angry and restless, her mind diseased by the need to hurt and kill. She wanted the world to burn. God she'd do anything to be the one holding the match.
She hated seeing her sister Sorrelstar whom probably had no clue she had even existed, succeed. Making their dear old dad so proud. It was sickening. Ugh, she needed a relief. A itch to this throbbing scratch. What else better than to toy with the living?
Ah, half moon is it? She howled her laughter as she recalled time and the weakened powers of their opposing saintly brats above. Things were so much easier now, and she found herself walking from the darkness of damnation to the midnight air of the living. Where the scent of crickets and the hoots of owls dare taunt her pulse-less being. She growled to the moonlit sky and stalked forth to stand on the hill, spilling her fiery unforgiving stare to the world that knew only to hate her.
A wicked thought prodded her mind, a snarl forming her jaws but in truth it was a grin. She watched as shapes marched toward the place she regarded quickly to be the moonstone. Ears laid back, the cogs turned quickly in her head. Her blade-like eyes settling in the sheath of focus on one cat. Blind, fascinating, a new mold or perhaps ... A new scheme. Who knew?
She counted the minutes, her brain ticking like a timebomb till she watched the medicine cats leak into the cave one by one. Stalking forth now, a low chuckle rolling past exposed fangs, she licked her chops before sinking into the darkness.
The soft breathing of sleeping herb-scented felines made her sick, anything sweet making her tart heart harden and ice over. Finally, she spotted the boy. She acted quickly, charging forward and greeting the aura of his spirit with her darkness, interrupting the holy connection. Twisting, cutting, pulling, stealing at his consciousness away from the hand of Starclan. A thief of souls, she tugs the aura into The dark clutches of the dark forest, swallowed back into the deathly quiet land of the dead and damned.
"hello there, my dear... Have no fear, it must be quite frightening here in starclan not being able to see" her words pooling from a wicked smile, eyes glittering nefariously.