Corvidmasquerade stared at the fog-filled endless landscape, something unreadable glittering in his emerald eyes. This place. So desolate..yet full of potential. He’d been stuck here for a while, a long while—and he’s seen things come and go. Every Friday was important to him, as he could yowl and scream and rage all he wanted..because everyone else felt the same. He felt he needed to be a role model, needed to stuff down his own rage and suffering to feed others’. It seemed like a reasonable exchange—he’d knock those cats down to make them feel a little more like him. Destroyed. Nothing but a husk of what he once was. Crow felt a sick satisfaction in it, almost—but he knew it would get him nowhere. Maybe. … He had once been leader of a great Clan, crushing opposition underfoot. He should’ve been sent to StarClan since he was a leader. He should have. But all it took was his disregard, his dismissal of StarClan’s silly schemes and weather magic… … so they stripped him of /everything/..and then threw him down here. Here where he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word. Pathetic.
He thought of himself as a joke. A joke, that’s what he was. Putting up a show for everyone, to mask the real, wicked him. The then-leader never knew that, of course. Nobody did. He was Ravenflight—then Ravenstar, and then… … Here again. Where he flung the last of his being away when he dubbed himself.. Corvidmasquerade. The lone showman. He wouldn’t have it any other way. ————————— End.
