Chapter Thirty-Two

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The wind blew, hard. The pale green grass swayed and dipped. The heather was slowly thinning as the season rolled on. There was no sun to be seen, for an overcast sky loomed overhead.
       A cream cat sat alone at the shore. The water rippled in small waves, lapping fiercely at the pebbles. She stared down at her reflection.
       Her once bright ice-blue eyes had faded overtime. Her expression held nothing, eyes blank of emotion. She was broken, shadowed by a dark presence.
       The wind gave the water another ripple, making her reflection distorted and misshapen. She was almost unrecognizable, and she glanced away, peering blankly at the island on the other side of the lake.
Another hard wind blew from behind the she-cat, blowing her fur around her face. As the wind died down, a familiar voice carried words softly on the breeze. If the wind blows and a Swirling storm shall cover the Moon, seek answers where your heart truly lies, Driftfrost seemed to whisper in her ear.
       Aspenrose closed her eyes, breathing deeply, before opening them upon the lake again. I know what it means, now. Ever since the last time she saw Darkmoon, the prophecy she had once doubted finally seemed clear. With sunrises of thinking, she had began to put the pieces into place.
       If the wind blows. Aspenrose peered down at her reflection again. The wind must be me, and "when it blows" is when I ran from Darkmoon. She gazed at herself still, giving her tail-tip a small flick.
       A Swirling storm shall cover the Moon. Aspenrose gave a quick glance at the gray sky. It seemed as if a real storm was on its way. As she looked up, a rain drop splattered on her ear. She flicked it off self-concisely. The "Swirling storm" is Jaggedswirl. The "Moon" is Darkmoon.
       Aspenrose blinked. Jaggedswirl covered Darkmoon, the Moon, that night I left him. Everything was starting to fall into place, but there was still the other half of the prophecy that hadn't been fulfilled.
       Seek answers where your heart truly lies. Aspenrose returned her icy gaze to the lake. The wind picked up once more, buffeting the grass around her. She gave a slight shiver.
       Something caught her eye. She turned her head to see something small and white blowing toward her along the shoreline. It reached her, brushing her paws on its way. A white rose petal.
       Almost as soon as it had came, the petal whipped its way out of reach, swirling around her. The wind changed directions; the pure white rose petal floated lazily on the wind, swirling out over the lake, until it dropped gracefully, swaying until it gently reached the water.
       Aspenrose gazed at it, not knowing what it think. Where does my heart truly lie?

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