A storm swept across the land that night. The forest was flooded, sparing only the back of Chamomile's cave. Opal didn't seem to notice the storm as it went on; she was surprised to see water flooding the cave. She got up and shook out her fur, the water slinging in all directions. She had sniffed the area, searching for her dear mother. Opal assumed that she had gone morning hunting, as she was nowhere to be seen nearby. Although, what was strange was that she wasn't back quite yet, like she usually is. A worried feeling began to slowly grow, crawling on Opal's back. She decided to shrug it off and look for Chamomile. She had to be somewhere, right? She trotted out of the den, her yellow eyes gleaming excitedly. Maybe Chamomile wasn't hunting, but merely playing hide-and-seek? She giggled with delight as she skidded into the depths of the forest.
The desolate nature somewhat disturbed Opal, but she didn't mind. She loved the peaceful sound of the birds' songs, and she lived for the feeling of the wind coursing through her fur. She didn't know why Chamomile never let her this far into the forest, it's amazing! The lush vegetation is beautiful, and the flowers are so soothing and sweet. She wished she could come out here all the time, but alas, she is only looking for her mother. She couldn't seem to scent anything nearby that has traces of her, though. Strange. Suddenly, a whiff of her scent trailed across her nose. She noticed a few lucky footprints that had been sheltered by the tree. She had found her mother's tracks! She was so excited, so she bent down and began sniffing out the rest. The trail was long, it's almost as if she departed during the night. Opal began to shake, her worries creeping up on her once again. She was purely terrified. She tried to shake it off again, but to no avail. Something went horribly wrong. She ran as fast as she could, carefully following the trail, when finally, it got much stronger near a fallen tree. She began to relax until she noticed something.... different about Chamomile's scent. It smelled... deathly. Opal hesitantly padded to the other side of the tree, only to be greeted by her dead mother's corpse, crushed helplessly underneath. A wave of agony pierced her heart, and she wailed violently, tears streaming down her cheeks, staining her fur. She lay in the mud, next to her mother, praying that she was in a safer place now.
| Current Affiliation | Rogue |
|---|---|
| Age | 27 Moons |
| Orientation | Lawfully Dark |
| Gender | Female |
| Breed | Turkish Angora |