It's too dark here, and it smells like the sand of home after the rain. But I love that smell… Why does this stench make me want to run? All rot, and pain, and blood. I need help… "Ma?" I tried to call, but this dank hell had stolen even my voice. Yet my meager attempt garnered a response. "Yes, my love?" That voice was so much like Ma’s but more mischievous, like a poltergeist crouched among the bush. It is not a poltergeist that steps from the forest. Though that molly may well be some cruel spirit, as her shoulders adorned with crow's wings are very truly not of my world. Her side oozes with black blood that drips in horrifying rivulets onto the mud, leaving a trail of onyx black in her wake. "My name is Tourmalinecrow. I'm your grandmother, darling. Didn't Raven mention me?" She took a few careful steps towards me, her paws soundless even while she padded across squelching mud as if she hovered a hairsbreadth above the ground. "I have a question for you." The Spector, who is not a specter at all, said in that voice, so much like my mother's and yet so different. "Would you like to rule the world?" "Mother." A second cold voice emanates from the gloom before a tom steps from the decaying underbrush. He is split down the middle, part ghostly white pure among the dark, and part ropes of umber against the russet of gore. The same russet as The Crow, they have the same eyes, slightly mismatched. But he does not share her fire; he emanates a chill colder than winter's frost, and I know with startling certainty that he is a Ballad of which Lyricdeception has spoken. "Don't fill her mind with fantasy." "We are not ruling the world here, simply fulfilling an oath." With each word, he takes a soundless step, just like his mother; they appear for all the world as two birds fluttering soundlessly through this cruel wilderness. "If you want to join, though," A grin of his own winds its way across his muzzle, and I find myself taking an involuntary step back, for his smile is as cruel as a fox's. I am scared that in one bite he might swallow me whole. "We can make you the most powerful cat in the Clans." My Ma’s words drift to the forefront of my mind, carried by the frigid wind of Ballad’s smile. That I should seek power and glory. And so… against all of my better judgment, which for once has reared its head, I murmur in a little voice that, in contrast to my previous attempts, emanates in a seeming yell throughout the wood. “What do I have to do?” “Dove.” The Crow says slowly, seemingly talking to Ballad. Her whole world must be surrounded by birds… “She is too young for such a drastic step; I will not make that mistake twice.” “Then why are you here?” He retorts in his chilling manner, and I am left in the crossfire of their words as their bickering continues, The Dove and The Crow sparring in the air just above the ground. I am drowned in their words. I have not yet learned to swim, and I begin to sink into the promises and oaths, in all the power a future version of me might have. I am swallowed in undead expectation, and I know that one day… I will run out of air… And then my world will be as dark as theirs… With a start, I blink my eyes awake, staring up at those same amber eyes, those belonging to the birds in the rotting nest, but this gaze is familiar, and again, I call into the night. “Ma?”
