She sat on the sill, a small patch of blue-grey fur that was turned silver-white in the streams of moonlight that was glaring through the window. It was rare she watched the world go by, she was always so wound up in her public appearance, her image, that she never dared much to look or observe what was going on in the world that, at this age, she was mostly barred from being part of. Outside was an adults' world, or at least, the world of Students and Mothers and all the apprentice aged cats, which bar from the few hunters and heads of clans were the closest things to adult she knew.

She let out a sigh, soft, faint; the heat of her breath aginst the cool pane glazed a spot on the window a small misty haze before it cleared again. She didn't want to be out there, not really. Garnetklt had no use for wandering, or at least had convinced herself she had no used. If there had once been a desire to have broken the rules, to have wanted or asked or desired something for herself that might have been a burden, she had long crushed it in some beautiful display of selfless obedience. But there was some subconcious draw still, some wild love for the world and for nature, and for the feeling of freedom that she denied was there. 

She leaned a bit more into the glass, old but still to strong to even falter at the feather-lightness of her weight. It was cool against her cheek, and it felt like some illusion of a libertation.