Whiteskip's eyes fluttered open. What... just happened? The last thing he remembered was coughing and coughing and pain in his chest. And... now he was in this place? Had he- died? But, this didn't look like the oh-so-beautiful hunting territories of StarClan everyone rambled on about. (Well, specifically elders) Come on, Whiteskip, did you really think you'd be in STARCLAN? Don't you remember what you've done? A voice in his head mocked him.
Ah, He thought. Of course he wouldn't be in StarClan. StarClan wouldn't accept anyone like him. "Get up," A rough voice interrupted his thoughts. He got up, feeling healthy as ever. But what he saw, drained all life out of him. It was him. The cat they spoke of. The cat they feared. The cat who killed.
It was Hawkfrost, standing in front of his very eyes.
Whiteskip's pelt prickled with- well, he couldn't place a paw on the feeling. Stumbling, the tom stood to face the icy eyed tabby. "Why are you here," Hawkfrost added in a mocking tone soon after, "Whiteskip?" Ah. The great joys of having a non-threatening name. He shook out his paw awkwardly, almost falling over. "Killing my foxhearted excuse for a mate." Hawkfrost's whiskers raised lightly. "And her mouse-brained kits and family." His stormy sand yellow eyes glittered with joy. Hawkfrost was not impressed.
"Clan?" the tom said after an awkward moment of silence between the two. With only three legs, Whiteskip walked over and stared him in the eyes. Once again the feeling. "You really think I would have a clan? I wormed my way through Thunderclan's defences."