Flamingstar saw the paw coming for her, claws extended as she widened her eyes in horror. She felt the sting as claws raked her face and she stumbled, losing her footing. She stepped back to regain her balance but she stepped too close to the edge and the ground crumbled beneath her. She fell, reaching out in a desperate attempt to catch herself but there was nothing but air as she tumbled to her death. Blinking open her eyes, she looked around. A slow flowing river was gently trickling beside her. She looked into her reflection and saw her reflection. She was just a glowing fog in the figure of a cat. Sudden realization hit her, she was dead. She looked behind her and there laid her own lifeless body. Standing above her body was Kotori. He had tears flowing from his eyes but he was the only one there. Where was everyone else? After moment of grieving, she followed him back to the camp. As he shared the news, no tears nor grief could be found on any of her subjects faces. He seemed to be the only one distraught. Her heart broke, seeing how none of them cared that their leader had fallen. 

The dark ginger leader woke with a start and breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she realized it was only a dream. However, the faces of her clan mates stuck in her head. How none of them cared that she was dead, none of them except for Kotori. Could this be the honest truth? If she died now, would anyone miss her? With her heart racing and her mind running a mile a minute, she decided a walk would do her some good. She left the comfort of her nest and out of the cenote. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the forest. The heat of the day still lingered in the air, warming her fur. It was rather early for her clan to be awake but they should be awake shortly. She decided to head for the waterfall and climbed the cliff to the top. She turned and over looked the valley, seeing all of Nightclan territory laid out before her. She ruled all of it but what kind of ruler was she? She abandoned her kits, she harmed her previous medicine cat, she took lives of cats that had families. Everyone hated her. She showed no mercy and ruled her clan with an iron paw. As much as she wished she could change, there was a darkness inside her that she couldn't shake. Something that craved the thrill of a kill or the drama of starting conflict. Though, something else bothered her. As she looked down the cliff, the memory of her dream returned. If she died, what would she be leaving behind? Would anyone forget the wrong she had done? Or perhaps they would only remember the wrong she had done. Was she leaving behind a reason to be missed?