It wasn't in the quiet of night or the bustle of day that she managed to tear herself from all she knew and venture into the unknown. Perhaps in another story, that would be the case. But for Sakurablossom, who had already had quite enough of fanfare and could no longer maintain the mask of indifference toward the world and all she had seen, her heart and soul longed for the quiet of twilight, when the camp and surrounding land was oddly silent and still. The presence of her clanmates was felt, but not seen, allowing her to rest her eyes as she prepared for the voyage she had never intended to set upon and yet found herself unable to turn from. Everything had changed once they had lost Fawnheart. Her world had grown a little bit dimmer. With the flood of the land, the loss of many of their members – brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, friends, the brave and most gentle of heart – and the sacrifice of Jetstar...

The white she-cat paused in her slow, rigid movements of preparing a small portion of herbs for her travels, staring unseeing down at the leafy greens at her paws. She was tired, so very tired. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep, not just for the night, or even a moon, but seasons. She had been running for so long. Now that the demons at her back had caught up with her, she couldn't pretend she wasn't broken.

Inhaling a deep breath, she lifted her head and popped her tense shoulders, wincing minutely but silently accepting the brief pain to keep herself grounded. There was one last thing to do. The she-cat turned, gazing silently at the tom who was sitting in the nest some distance from her, closer to the den entrance – always available should trouble come calling, despite the medical advice that he rest and allow himself to heal – and allowed herself to drop the facade of the innocence she desperately attempted to keep wrapped around herself like a security blanket. She was no longer a young kit, or an apprentice who pounced at her mentor's paws, eager to learn. She was still young, yes, but she was grown now. Physically, but more importantly mentally. Sakurablossom already felt as though she had lived lifetimes and it showed in her purple and pink eyes and the set of her expression, jaw sharper, eyes more almond than round with curiosity, cheekbones cut and betraying her maturity, no matter how she played.

The she-cat padded forward, gaining her deputy's attention – her closest friend and confidante.

"Before I leave," she spoke, voice much deeper than the usual falsetto she played up before, when she pretended like she hadn't changed and was still the ridiculous young apprentice that was never saddled with anything like regret, guilt, or the burden of the world and its truths, "I fear I must confide in you one last time."

Nova