Generate a natural continuation of the following text. Try to keep your continuation consistent with the original. ONLY return the continued text and nothing else.



## Chapter 2
##### todo: he looks into the stream and sees his reflection again. the voice speaks to him again and again. sometimes it taunts him, sometimes it appeals to his ambition. they have a long conversation and the voice manages to gain his trust. then curl comes

A shadowed silhouette prowled silent against a sky of dying stars. 

It made its way, half-concealed, through the RiverClan forest terrain, 

It had kept him up all day and all night, sometimes repeating its vague words, sometimes calling his name, chasing him as if he was a piece of prey. Wherever he went and whatever he was doing, the voice didn't stop.

*Listen to me, Splashpaw...*

He'd approached the medicine cats, of course; but as he expected, they didn't take too kindly to his vague tales of ghostly voices. "Well, we can't do anything about it, Splashpaw, " Mothwing had said sharply before halfmindedly offering him poppy seeds for sleep. Finally he had given up and rose from his nest, sneaking into the forest, hoping to find some solace in the darkness of the night.

The same stream, the same wild waters that rushed through it; only now it was enveloped in a layer of darkness, the moonlight barely skimming off its surface like a bitter afterthought. He crouched on the river bank, looking at nothing in particular, hoping only to cease the persistent whispers echoing in his mind. He tried covering his ears with his paws. It didn't help.

From the depths of the dark water floated his mirror image, the stream seemingly slowing to a halt so that he could make it out more clearly. He squinted, and so did his facsimile; the sight was oddly poetic in a way he couldn't quite put into words. Was that a trace of distress he saw, mixed with the tiredness of one who had been haunted relentlessly by their internal voice? A perfect recipe for insanity.

*I thought you wanted to be a warrior.* A silky and persuasive tone this time; he should ignore it, shout at it, chase it away - but he was too tired to care. *You have dreams, ambitions… I can help you with them.*

Splashpaw’s ears twitched, leaning closer to the water, drawn in despite his fear. “How can I trust you?” he whispered angrily in response, searching the depths of his reflection. “You ruined my assessment. You made me fail.”

*I didn’t make you fail,* the voice countered softly. *You listened to your doubts, your fears. They were your own. But there’s power in you - I see it. Think of what you could achieve if you just trust in me.*

"Oh yeah? Do tell." A sarcastic snort, followed by an impatient huff. The newleaf air was getting cold, as it did at night, some of its coldness managing to infiltrate past Splashpaw's thick fur and making him shiver ever so slightly. "How convenient that you appeared *during my assessment*, hmm? You couldn't have done it *before*, perhaps?"

A short pause. A cautious edge in its voice. *You weren't ready then. I appear only to those who can accept me.*

"Ready for *what*? What in StarClan are *you*, anyways? You're more frustrating than