i've.walked.this.path.b e f o r e//

[angels.to.demons]

++ i walk an empty street
on the boulevard of broken dreams
and the city sleeps
i'm the only one, and i walk alone ++

The sun warmed the tops of the stone caverns, and from the cracks in the ceiling a misted golden aura sheeted the inside. The stone underpaw was warm, despite the chilling leaf-bare's air outside. In here was protection, warmth, and an enigmatic peace which Redblood couldn't even begin to comprehend. He'd been searching, looking, questing for the feeling of belonging, and he believed he had finally found it.

The sky above was a soft shade of milky sapphire, full of swimming, puffy ivory clouds that seemed to gently float downhill. The wind outside the Stone Caverns shrieked and battered any caught in its frosted gale, but Redblood was unaffected by any of this. A slight breeze rippled the surface of his dark ginger tabby pelt, and he welcomed the cold sensation that seemed to enter his bones and deprive him of the feeilng he'd experienced before. His soft amber eyes lost their feathery expression, and the characteristic hard, sarcastic, cruel look entered again as he disdainfully looked around.

++ somehow, you shoulda realized
by now what'cha gotta do

i believe not anybody feels the way i do
i walk alone ++

He'd almost lost himself in the nostalgic way he stared at the Stone Caverns. To think... in this cave stood legendary warriors: Pantherstar, Ravenstar, Shadowstar... all of them nothing but dust on the earth now. Only one he cared to know came to his mind: Thistlestar, his grandfather, the pacifeist leader whom had sired his dead mother, Flowerpetal. He wondered what he'd been like... and if he was now staring on his daughter's only living children with disgust and pity on his face. The thought made his claws unsheathe. They scraped against the rocky floor with a bouncing, metallic sound, which forced his ears to his head in a sudden flash of rage.

Thistlestar, leader of MountainClan. As far as he knew, he'd been a serial killer, but he'd heard somewhere that he had been a gentle, loving pacifeist with a love for his Clan and his family. His wife was Tintedfeather, a former loner who had returned with the four chosen cats on the journey to revive the Clans. They'd had two kits conceived out of love; Mudclaw, his ambitious, late uncle, and Flowerpetal, the mother he'd never known. Both of Thistlestar's children were corrupted, coincidently, by Gustwhisker and Soulkeeper's wicked kits, and all four of them hid out in the foolish ole Faithfuls. Thistlestar grew depressed and mysteriously was found dead, while Tintedfeather had been slain by Ruinedwing.

He knew that his cousins were many, his siblings, nephews and neices as well, but family had never mattered to him. He loved only one, and sparsely at that, a thickly related she-cat known as Demon, but he'd never mated her; that was incredibly immoral, which, surprisingly, he was against. He knew from bits and bites of information that Demon was the daughter of Furyscar, son of long-dead Flamepelt, whom was her namesake, and Twilightsong, daughter of Mudclaw and Ruinedwing, his aunt and uncle. For this reason, he knew they were a lot a like and even shared some physical attributes: dark ginger hair, narrow, serpentine eyes, and attractive features, like all of Shallowheart's kin. Of course, Redblood's reddish pelt was inherited from Flowerpetal and Demon's from Furyscar and Flamepelt, but hey, all blood, right?

++ my shadow's the only one who walks beside me
my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
sometimes i wish someone up there would find me
'til then i walk alone ++

Perhaps the only reason Redblood had left Demon's tempermental side and journeyed to MountainClan's lands was to redeem himself. He was a murderer, had been one before he'd opened his eyes, and that was a crime not even the wickedest sinner could have committed. Redblood. Just as I was born from red blood. See, my mother was no fool; she named me accurately, and Slashedpaw as well, wherever he is. Red... for the blood she sacrificed to bring me into the world. Slashed... for the heart of her Clan she'd drawn a claw across many a time. Hopefully, wherever the wench is, she doesn't hate me, for how can I hate someone who dies for me?

"Oh, gods," he murmured, staring at the ground and staining it with dark, wet teardrops. "Forgive me, Thistlestar and Tintedfeather; I don't deserve to hold your noble blood in my veins." His claws extended, rising to his chest and clutching the thin, wispy fur there concentratedly. He babbled on, "Forgive me, Crimsonlight and Flowerpetal, for ending your life and disgracing your name." Finally, his eyes lit with fire, he took a few steps forward and bowed his head one last time, eyes taking on a fearful, steely glint.

In your dying hour, your soul shall be rekindled and made to live among thine predecessors... make them proud during your life and never forget who you are. Redblood thoughtfully stared upwards, smiling silkily. The gentle, feminine voice carried love and pride, hope and faith, and he just knew, somewhere in his heart, that the voice had belonged to Flowerpetal. His heart ached briefly, before he whispered the only words he'd ever spoken to his mother.

"Farewell and good lucky... Mother."

++ today is gonna be the day when i shoulda said it back to you ++