Ice is unforgiving. It has no mercy, destroying all in its path. Those able to withstand its fury are very respected. Those unable to are not looked down on, however, they are not expected to ever achieve anything near what the others can. However, that is only the lighter aspect of what lives on the tundra which HallowClan inhabits. The Frozen Souls are only half of a balance. The Sins are the other half. Led by eight terrible and darkened souls, they seek to keep their legacy alive in the clan.
As the pure white she-cat peered over the ridge, her ice-blue eyes narrowed in discontentedness. The group of cats were still there, stalking the edges of their precious hideout. The fluffy tail lashed out furiously, causing a small flurry around the she-cat.
" They're still here, Madeline. We're trapped." The low hisses of Froststrike graced the ears of the older and much, much larger she-cat. They didn't seem as bothered.
" Then we'll show them how much of a mistake it is to trap us in range of their little clan...."
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