SickleClan: Cinderstar’s Thoughts
Cinderstar sits by the entrance of his den looking out at the camp, at his clan. It’s been five years now, going on 6. It’s a strange thought to him, he can still recall his exile and the nervous uncertainty, as well as blind confidence, he felt as he and his supports left to find their own territory. Starting a new clan...it would be easy he thought, he could lead, better than that old softie who lead his old clan. How wrong he was about that. SickleClan has endured many hardships and lots of loss, the majority of them aren’t even clan born at this point, but they’re still here. They’ve survived and they’re doing relatively well for themselves. Sure they have their own little drama’s and there’s still the prophecy to figure out, but they’re alive. A gentle purr rumbles in his throat as he looks around the camp, as his clan mates go about their day. He’s proud of them and he hopes that he’s leading the clan well and will continue to lead the clan well for as long as he’s got left. They’ve made it this far, despite it all. He can’t help but worry a little about the prophecy but SickleClan has made it this far and he has bright hopes for the future of his clan.