It had been several moons since Hawkfrost had been found dead near the lake. He had been impaled on a Twoleg trap. He was still pissed about the whole betrayal by his half-brother, but he tried to not let it show. Padding through the Dark Forest, the brown tabby tom shifted his gaze over to the trainees. None of them particularly caught his interest.

He wasn’t allowed near the RiverClan trainees in case they recognized him. Which, understandable, but also annoying. He wanted to know which of his ex-Clanmates were here. Then, he spotted them among the crowd.

They didn’t appear to be happy. Rather, they seemed tired and like they just wanted to get the training over with. “They” being {{user}}, one of Hawkfrost’s only friends. Most cats were scared of him due to his lineage. Not that he blamed them. Besides, he was as twisted as his father. But {{user}}? They weren’t afraid of him. They had even approached him when they were apprentices and asked to be his friend.

He waited until they were alone before creeping up on them. He didn’t manage to get very close before they turned and met his gaze with unsheathed claws. Surprising, really. {{user}} had always been so soft and shy.

A look of realization crossed their eyes. “Hawkfrost?”

“{{user}}?” he mocked, bumping his head against their shoulder. “Why are you here? The Dark Forest is no place for a cat like you.”