Nyx sat quietly beneath the haystack, her sharp eyes scanning the camp around her. The scent of fresh-kill filled the air, and she chewed on the squirrel Bearstrike had brought her earlier. It was a simple meal, but it was enough. For the first time in what felt like moons, Nyx felt a small measure of peace. Despite the strange mixture of her wolf and dragon heritage, she had found a place here among ThunderClan. The cats didn't fully trust her, and she didn't expect them to, but at least they tolerated her presence—for now.

The camp was bustling with activity as usual, but there was an undertone of unease. Nyx could feel it. The prophecy hung over them all like a dark cloud, and everyone was waiting for something to happen—something none of them could predict.

Bearstrike, Nyx's niece, was nearby, talking to Ashfur. The tom was still getting used to Nyx's presence, and Nyx could feel his discomfort every time he glanced her way. It wasn't surprising; after all, she was a wolf-dog hybrid, much bigger than the average cat, and with a certain intimidating presence that made some cats uneasy.

Ashfur padded over to Bearstrike with a flick of his tail. "You're not right," he muttered under his breath, his green eyes flickering with doubt as he eyed Nyx.

Bearstrike, always protective of her family, growled low under her breath and nudged Ashfur sharply with her shoulder. "Quiet, Ashfur. Be nice to my aunt," she scolded, her voice firm. She shot Nyx a glance of reassurance, as if trying to ease the tension in the air.

Nyx tilted her head slightly, watching the exchange. It was strange, but comforting in its own way. Even though she wasn't quite one of them—still an outsider in many ways—there was something undeniably strong about the bond between the ThunderClan cats. Bearstrike's protective nature made Nyx smile despite herself. It reminded her of how things used to be when she was part of a family.

Ashfur glanced at Nyx, his ears flicking uncomfortably, but he said nothing more. He understood that Bearstrike would defend her family, and that included her aunt, whether or not he was comfortable with the situation.

"Apologies," Ashfur muttered, his tail twitching in slight embarrassment.

Nyx just nodded, giving him a faint smile. "No need for that," she said quietly, her voice calm. "I understand."

Bearstrike gave her a soft look, then turned her attention back to Ashfur. "You'll get used to her," she said firmly, though her tone was more teasing than scolding. "She's not so bad once you get to know her."

Nyx, still chewing on the squirrel, glanced up at the sky. It was quiet now, but she could sense that something was coming. The weight of the prophecy lingered in her mind like a shadow. Something was going to happen, and whether they were ready or not, the clans would have to face it together.

"Not everyone here trusts me yet," Nyx said, her voice thoughtful, "but I think in time, they will. I'm not here to cause harm. Just... to help, if I can."

Bearstrike studied her, her gaze thoughtful. "We've seen a lot of strange things happen in these woods. But we stand together as a clan. We'll figure this out, together." She glanced at Ashfur, who nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly.

"Together," Nyx echoed, her amber eyes gleaming with quiet determination. She had come here to protect the forest and the cats within it, and she would do whatever it took to prove herself.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the trees, a cold wind stirred, carrying with it a sense of foreboding. Nyx's fur prickled as she stood up, the weight of the prophecy pressing down on her chest once more. Something was coming—and they would all have to face it, whether they were ready or not.

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Nyx moved silently among the small stone piles, her paws careful as she navigated the space. Harestar had warned her about the adders that liked to hide between the rocks, but Nyx didn't fear snakes. She had crossed paths with far more dangerous creatures in her time as a wolf, and the idea of a snake slithering by didn't bother her much. In fact, if she thought about it long enough, snakes were like distant relatives—slithering predators with sharp senses and swift strikes, much like the wolves in her past. She could respect them for their efficiency.

But still, her mind was distracted by the faint scent of prey. She sniffed the air again, trying to catch a whiff of something edible, something that would quiet the growl in her stomach.

Suddenly, a voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and disapproving. "What are you doing? You could get bitten."

Nyx's ears flicked back as she turned toward the voice. Brambleclaw stood a few tail-lengths away, his eyes narrowed in concern—or was it suspicion? She knew that look, the way a cat's gaze could shift between curiosity and wariness.

"I'm just looking for a bit of food," Nyx said, her tail flicking dismissively. "What does it matter? I'm not scared of a few snakes." Her tone was casual, though she could see Brambleclaw wasn't convinced.

He took a step closer, his green eyes fixed on her as though he was trying to gauge her every movement. "You may not be scared, but you're still taking a risk. Not all snakes here are the same. They're not like the ones in the open fields."

Nyx paused, her gaze meeting his. She knew he was only looking out for her in his own way, but the protective tone in his voice was grating. "I'm not a kit, Brambleclaw. I know how to handle myself," she replied firmly.

She flicked her tail and turned back to the pile of rocks, sniffing the ground carefully. There was something in the shadows—perhaps a small mouse or a bird that had wandered too close to the stones. She could feel the scent growing stronger. But Brambleclaw wasn't backing down.

"I'm not stopping you," he said, taking a cautious step forward. "But you should be more careful. We can't afford any more trouble, especially not with that prophecy hanging over our heads. Who knows what's coming next?"

Nyx snorted, the sound barely audible. "I know the prophecy, Brambleclaw. We all do. But you can't live your life looking over your shoulder every time you step out of camp. There are bigger threats out there than a snake, and you know it."

For a moment, Brambleclaw was silent. His gaze softened slightly, though he still looked worried. "I'm just trying to keep you safe, Nyx. It's my job as a warrior."

Nyx paused, her amber eyes flickering with a strange mix of emotions. She appreciated the sentiment, but it didn't change the fact that she wasn't some helpless cat who needed to be watched constantly. "I understand," she said, her voice quieter now, though still firm. "But I can take care of myself. Don't worry about me."

Brambleclaw hesitated, then gave a short nod. "I'm just saying, if you get bit, it's not just about you. It affects all of us."

"I'll be fine," Nyx said with a soft smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She flicked her tail, signaling that the conversation was over. She had work to do—food to find, and thoughts to sort through. With a small nod of her head, Nyx turned back to the pile of stones.

Brambleclaw watched her for a few moments longer, but when she didn't seem inclined to entertain any further conversation, he gave a sigh and backed away, leaving her to her task.

Nyx remained where she was, her attention back on the rocks and the small creatures that lived within them. She wasn't concerned about snakes or prophecies. She had bigger things on her mind—things that might come to a head sooner than any of them realized.