OOC: Jeez, this thing turned out long. Apparently, I like internal monolouges.
IC:A small cat stode into the room, her amber gaze flicking from cat to cat. Though her face remained expressionless, her eyes betrayed what lay inside. Her wide violet eyes contained a wild expression, that was not exactly rage-like but not entirely caused by excitment. The young cat's name, of course, was Whyn. Though her odd black and ginger pelt was slightly ruffled, she seemed entirely at ease. Her movements were quick and graceful, as if they where practiced. They were. Everything must be perfect. Yes, yes, perfect indeed, she thought to herself. Why would she accept such a young cat if they were not perfect? Yes, yes, for what other reason? Whyn sat down, watching the leader with undistracted eyes. Too long have I padded among these cats, warriors, betrayers, no, no, never betrayers. I was only tolerated, tolerated, tolerated because I was a kit. Yes, yes, another dribbling mouth to feed. No threat, no threat at all, but no help. Oh, help, help, help! I am not one of them, never was. Was, was. I will be now! Now, now I will have a home! Home! Whyn smiled to herself. Mama betrayed daddy, then daddy go. Went. Never returned. Never woke up. But I wont leave. Whyn dug her claws into the ground as the memories flowed back to her. That cat. My uncle. HE took me away, away from my not-home. So many days, so little food. He began to sway and sing. Yes, yes, sing that wonderful song. Whyn began to hum a quiet haunting tune, digging her claws in the floor until they hurt. The sun. Yes, the sun. It burned my skin. Burned, burned, burned. It still burns now, even when the sun sleeps and the moon plays. The she-cat rocked on her haunches. Yes, yes. It still burns. I was found, rescued, by a savior, then taken to this hell, no, no, haven, then raised. Too late for poor, poor uncle. Whyn felt a wave of mock-pity wash through her veins. Poor, poor. But I found something. That wonderful something. The blood, yes, yes, the blood, it washes away the burning. The warm cools the hot. Taste of metal fuels the hate. Whyn gazed at Vasilica hungrily. She can lead me to it. She can help me. No, I shall not betray her like dad and mum. Not ever, never. This is were my story begins, begins. "Just wash away the burn," Whyn said outloud.