"She has to die! Wait until we have the cover of night first, then kill her."
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The moon's light shone down on the ground below, and Froststream gently padded on across the grass, staring up at the stars wistfully.

The she-cat sighed, stopping to rest in the mountain's edge, thoughts drifting as she studied every star carefully.

A growling came from behind her, and she turned around, watching as a cat approached her, claws unsheathed.

"You will die!" The cat spat, and Froststream narrowed her eyes.
"You'll have to catch me first."

It was like the wind had taken feline form, she sprinted past the cat with long, quick, powerful strides, hurtling down the mountain and vanishing into the camp.
Froststream escaped to the camp.
She is the swift. (Ability used).

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