Night Vigil of BloodClan

Sssilence reclaims the cold earth as deep night folds over the garden. Laden with its jagged red cap, gray quill, bone fang, and newly slotted beetle elytra, my wire collar hangs heavy and merciless against my throat. I slid beneath the overhang of the porch foundation, coiling my pale length into an impenetrable spiral against the chilly granite. My chin rests low over a bed of dark mulch, the beetle wings glinting faintly in the gloom like sinister obsidian. Scourge himself knew the quiet dread of an armed ruler waiting in the dark; my borders remain unchallenged.