[smally!] - - it's been a while..!

[deathclaw]

since i could look at myself straight...

- D E A T H C L A W -

how enticing, this place could be. filled with carrion and rather repulsive smells; he couldn't help but sneer, yellow gaze glinting in the moonlight. shadowclan just seemed to be a magnet to him. as much as he didn't like to admit it, shadowclan just had things that were worthy of his attention. like that little purpleheart. he knew she was tucked in safely at the barn, probably asleep and oblivious to his absence. a harsh frown contorted his features. she better be fine, or i'll tear apart the bastard who dared mess with a strand of her fur. he had established that rather clearly at the barn; no one got away with hurting her nor him. and he nearly laughed at remember their blood on his paws and the fear in their eyes.

lashing his tail, deathclaw soundlessly slipped through carrion place, a shadow amongst others. the scent was rather unpleasant, but not unbearable. really, the crows made it all the better. the creep factor of the place, not to mention the seeming representation of the death toll, just added a chill and a thrill to his bones. smiling, he circled the pile, almost, observing every living, and decomposing, thing there. really, this was an interesting place. and he would have continued his searching, had he not felt, perhaps even heard, another presence. lobes flicking, he turned, not sharply nor in a panicked matter; searching for another presence. he really didn't feel like calling out, since he already was in terrible trouble, taking one of their clanmates as hostage. feh. whatever.

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[midnighthowl]

gaze into her killing jar, i'd sometimes stare for hours

The ground was prickling with hints of spring, the rebirth of life altogether. The official time of death and misery had passed, fall and winter; they were on their way into the past. But then again, death and misery were year round events, even midnight knew that. Then why was it that the sight of blooming flowers and greening grass made her almost smile? Am I going soft? she wondered, horrified. As if... her going soft was like a rock evolving into water. Her lifetime of five years had hardened her like volcanic stone; you can't crush what wasn't made to be broken in the first place.

Maplepaw was a stubborn mule, and it was starting to piss Midnight off… she had patience, and she knew she did, she’d had it her whole life, dealing with ignorant, impudent dupes; and they had paid the price, but even so… an apprentice? How difficult could that be? She hadn’t estimated the complexity of training a mere adolescent, a child. Maybe she just wasn’t good for the youthful. I’m an old bag now, huh? She mentally spat, hoping for some response, and at the same time, dreading whatever may be given. The voice said nothing, seemingly occupied, wherever it was, doing whatever it was doing. The stench of rotting flesh was coming from up ahead; she moved smoothly, flowing... her long ebony fur groomed to perfection. Ashen claws freshly sharpened, if anyone or anything ambushed her, it was off with their head. She smirked at the thought, a chuckle escaping her glistening lips.

But to Midnight’s surprise, a familiar figure stirred through the shadows. She could hardly distinguish its scent above the stench of crowfood and garbage, but she was sure it was male. Anyone she knew? Or was this a stranger waltzing dangerously close to the devil’s reaper? Must be gambling with demise, this should be fun… Maybe she was arrogant, and stuck on herself, but it was for good cause. She had a lot of experience dealing with enemies, and life in general. There was no doubt in her mind that she would win a brawl, public… or not. She always did like her slaughters secret. Her beautiful ocher moonstones squinted against the pale light, smoldering almost, as if it would set alight the pathway of her vision. One paw set outside the safety of the brush, before a larger figure continued to expose itself.

“I was hoping for a young chap,” she laughed, flexing her claws humorously. “My little darlings are famished, and an old stringy bat like you won’t appease them much.” Haha, of course, she was referring to her claws and the condition of his skin. Her ear flicked, and her long thick tail lashed from side to side, swinging. “What a small world we live in, Deathclaw.” Her deep, and powerful voiced chimed, “I heard you were running with Warriors these days. How’s that been for you?”

she even poked holes so i can breath, haha

[deathclaw]

- D E A T H C L A W -

ahh, how familiar that scent was. even through all the reek of the crowfood, her scent was fairly difficult to miss. looks like the little eagle's been set free. ha, yes. free of romance, free of restrictions. she must have had some fun? as his yellow gaze flickered, and his tail faintly shifted to directly behind him, he craned his neck. a slick smirk distorted his lips, and when it became a smile, that shadowed smile of his, it seemed like he was sneering with a grimace. ha, his way of saying hello, pretty to an female old ally. his only female ally, really.

"i was hoping for a young chap. my little darlings are famished, and an old stringy bat like you won’t appease them much." he couldn't help but chuckle rather darkly, slipping from the shadows. "what a small world we live in, deathclaw. i heard you were running with warriors these days. how's that been for you?" the sneer returned to his features, banishing all smiles and smirks. flicking his tail, he released a fraction of his light, nearly demented laughter.

no, he wasn't insane. just a little off - and very unique. his sneer grew. "oh, it's been fine, thank you. the careless ones are easy prey." of course, he never considered midnight a warrior. she was far better than that. she was a rogue. he had a rogue as an ally, not a warrior. a cold blooded rogue.

flicking his tail, he lifted his cranium from its usual lowered position, breaking the look of a panther preparing to crouch. his tail soon became almost like a metronome - but he willed it to cease, and when it did, he felt a half smirk overpowering half of his sneer. however, at the moment, he cared not. he was more focused on.. 'business.' "how's the clan doing for you? anything new? any.. news?" he wasn't referring to the missing purpleheart - but hey, news was news.

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[midnighthowl]

So, he was happy to see her. That was good, because she had a few things she wanted to discuss with him. All in due time. He smirked deviously at her, and towards her comment, felt compelled to reply just as sweetly. oh, it's been fine, thank you. the careless ones are easy prey. she bet they were. ShadowClan was filled with nothing but cowards, and if not cowards then cats who were willing to die for stupid reasons. Their gods, StarClan, would soon prove nothing but a fantasy among reality; she would show them that their ancestors did not live on in the stars, that they were dead. Rotting in the ground. Her ocher moonstones narrowed sharply into small slits of smoldering fire. If she said that she saw an apparition of Icestar, hell, Ice, mother, mommy, they just might believer her. Midnight ignored Deathclaws expressions, only taking in the necessary. Time was not on her side, she didn't want her absence to be noticed. Today was not the first time she had disappeared without a word of where she was going. The black tom raised himself, his tail flicking. how's the clan doing for you? anything new? any.. news?

News? Of what kind? She felt her lips curl into a grim, smirking herself at the thought of all the Clan gossip that had been bellowing around. Hah. As for the Clan... well, they fed her through Leaf-bare, and gave her a place to sleep. That was enough. She felt grateful, oddly, but only because they had supplied the necessities for her survival. She owed them nothing, especially since she had worked hard to catch them food and feed the young, old and sick. Oh well, at least I did some good. "In a nut shell, they have no idea what their in for, though, ah, I do suppose they have been well to me," a dangerous gleam flickered in her gaze, shadowed by the growth around them. A slight retort passed her nose and throat. "But that was an exchange we had. Now, you were easy enough to find, sir warrior." She mocked humorously, "I do believe we have business to discuss, and the business is, dear, I need your help with a little game I want to play."

She couldn't help it, her paws were tingling; her lava veins rushing throughout her entire body, sending shivers down her spine. This was where it got good, where she finally told him what she wanted to do. With or without his help. It'd just be easier with it. "You see, it's my favorite game of all!" her face was lit like the sun, warm and excited. "I want to pull together a group consisting of all cats worthy and interested, rogues, loners, hell... kittypets!" she flashed a dazzling smile, her white canines glistening pearls. "and cats who are willing to betray their Clan in hopes of some greater future. I have thought through the beginning of my attack, we simply gather our numbers, play it cool and keep our existence low, the Clans will never know what hit them." true enough. When they attacked with numbers far higher than the Clans, there would be no way that the Clans would win. But there was a catch, always a catch.

"We strike ShadowClan first, tear them from the marshland and move in, assuming a new residence," a chuckle then a pause, her moonstones dark and shimmering. "so, are you with me?" if he denied an alliance, he may find himself in the pathway of an angry feline, she knew that much. Her claws flexed in and out of the damp soil as the silence of the evening set in. Already a cool breeze was beginning to gust through the trees, and prey fluttered for shelter throughout the night. Her eyes never wavered from Deathclaw, and little emotion could be read there. Only expectant. She remembered she had once saved his hide before, didn't he know he owed her? Didn't everyone she had ever helped or saved know they owed her? She was not a soft she-cat, not quite in her nature, but she could be. If given a chance to be. There was a gathering in her chest, small lights tracing back to the top left. She winced, but was surprised to find what she'd felt. Pain. Hurt.

Mother. An unsettling iniquity formed dimness in her rays. A hatred coursed through her, pushing away the sudden sorrow. I hate you. She growled silently, and the voice that she had always taken some form of comfort in, was not there. She waited for a reply, some extra presence in her mind, sharing her thoughts, that could reassure her that the voice was still there, listening. But it wasn't. You hear me, voice? Voice? No response.

It was no use. Her sanity was running slim, she supposed, if even the voice she had in her head refused to talk to her.

She waited for a reply from either of them, the voice of Deathclaw. In the meantime, her thoughts consumed her, focusing as hard as she could into her mind, down the rabbit hole that had no bottom. Down a black hole that never ended, and all that filled it was sorrow, bittersweet memories, hatred and evil. There was an evil inside of her. A demon.

Bane. There was an opening; the brick wall the voice shut so securely had opened, seemingly occupied by a strange amount of warm emotion. you know, bane. you still haven't told me if this life was the perfect life you thought i could provide. The black she-cat blinked, surprised. The voice wasn't talking to her, it was if they were talking to someone else.

And that voice.

It had always sounded seemingly familiar, but once voiced outloud in her mind, she knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Need I choose for you?" she spat, sourly. Her claws tore out a mound of dirt, before she grit her teeth.

you can run but you can't hide, and you know it. She hoped she could hear her, wherever she was.

[deathclaw]

where's my glass of blood?

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— deathclaw

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at first, the ebony tom was listening - not intently, but decently enough. and he even held a smirk to prove it. but then her mock, despite its cruel humor, irked him. rather greatly, as a matter of fact. forgetting the first of her statements, he replied, "why the hell would you want sir warrior around to plan with?" he was rather bothered, and the glint in his eye showed it. but he wasn't completely serious; he wanted to hear of this business. life needed to quit being.. dull.

"you see, it's my favorite game of all!" oh, he was going to like this. "i want to pull together a group consisting of all cats worthy and interested, rogues, loners, hell... kittypets! and cats who are willing to betray their clan in hopes of some greater future. i have thought through the beginning of my attack, we simply gather our numbers, play it cool and keep our existence low, the clans will never know what hit them." oh, he was really liking where this was going to go; his sneer, in sync with her smile, made it apparent.

"we strike shadowclan first, tear them from the marshland and move in, assuming a new residence." why not? it was simple enough - and these marshlands, he knew well by paw. his tongue rolled over his maw; he could just taste the blood the would be spilled, and the pain that would overcome the victims. he nearly laughed.

and when she chuckled, his shoulders rolled, a cruel sort of excitement glittering menacingly in his wide, golden gaze. "so, are you with me?" he knew she would be pissed if he defied her - but did she really need to make certain of it? how could he deny?! her monologue was pure, delectable. and he wanted it realized.

"you are foolish to question my alliance! such a future is perfection," he purred darkly, visions of what he could do flashing past his mind. oh yes, how he lusted for the arrival of demolition. the clans were doomed. and as he glanced up at midnight, he was nearly certain it was a guarantee.

she abruptly seemed oddly distant.. but soon enough, she snapped back into reality, with a vengeance it seemed. "need i choose for you?" he gave a cruel, demonic grin. demented.

a laugh nearly escaped him. "haven't you been paying attention, pretty? i've chosen." and he almost purred.

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[midnighthowl]

The black warrior blinked slowly, and let her ocher gaze fall into Deathclaws. She hadn't been paying attention to him; too concerned with her mother to listen when he had spoken. you are foolish to question my alliance! such a future is perfection, and he had agreed to help her, claiming that the idea and image of a future without Clans was too tempting to turn back on. She smirked halfheartedly, unable to share the same excitement she'd displayed seconds ago. She couldn't bring herself to even smile, or laugh.

The voice, her mother, Ice had slammed that wall back down again. Only her thoughts and hints of feelings recognizable to the ebony she-cat. To think, she had been hiding there all along, in Midnight's mind, using her, toying with her... hadn't she known all along that she was talking to her own daughter? Her own offspring? Or had Ice thought that it was a voice inside her head as well? A knot tugged at her chest; an angry knot. hide? i don't hide. Then what the hell was going on? Her claws tightened with her claws unsheathed and she turned and struck the nearest tree, a bush, an animal, anything. Furious to just... think that Ice had been there all along, like easy prey. She had camoflauged herself well.

what is there to hide from, daughter? She snorted, her breath heaving from her enraged body. That was an easy one, even if she had meant to tease Midnight cruelly. She would get what was coming to her. your fate and the past. you can't outrun me, i'll catch up with you. however, unlike Ice, Midnight was not surprised to find the common and familiar hatred boiling inside of her. She might have felt as though her goal in life was closer to a success, but revenge on her mother was a long way off. She had plans for the forest for now, and she swore she would shake it to its roots. Still, there was so much she wanted to say to her, to let her know how she felt about what she had done. damn you, life. damn you. touche. Frustrated that she couldn't reach past the barrier again to listen to Ice and the unknown male's conversation, she heaved a growl, emitted from her throat and shot Deathclaw a look over her shoulder. He probably thought she was insane, and true enough, she was. "There's quite a bit I should explain to you, some things you never knew about me," her voice was rough, angry still. But it was as deep and powerful as it had always been to begin with. "There's a voice inside my head, that speaks to me. Angers me, tells me things I don't know or understand. Haha, it's kind of funny you know, I'm not a schitzo, but it's there...

"My absence has been prolonged enough as it is, I should head back to camp before they begin to suspect anything. We'll meet again soon, in three days. Meet me at Fourtrees, alone." She made it clear she did not want him to bring anyone with him, not that he would, but she wanted to make sure just in case. Another shriek from a bird hit the atmosphere and she let out a small chuckle, she had a name for their band. Her lips parted to speak, but a rustling nearby made her freeze.

Unfortunately for the intruder, she was not in a generous mood, and they had walked into something too large for them to understand. If it weren't for their scent and poor stealth skills, she may have let them go. But no, she knew who it was, she could smell them.

"Come back for seconds, Smallclaw? she hissed, and turned towards the undergrowth offensively. The look she sent Deathclaw was easy enough, simple, catch him.

This is my game.

[deathclaw]

don't you think psychosis is getting popular?

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— deathclaw

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something was different about her atmosphere, all of a sudden. her enthusiasm was gone. and he found himself narrowing his yellows, confused. she was spacing out more often than he ever thought she could. yeah, sure, he knew she had a fairly vast mind. but she never really spaced out. not from what he had seen, at least until now. blinking once, he took a silent step forward, his muscles shifting ever so slightly under his skin and pelt.

a split second later, she was blur, whisking around. and the next thing he knew, he watched her shred the foliage before her, her fury radiating off her in waves. what the hell? he wasn't exactly afraid. more like, confused and rather irked. the only thing that could have enraged her were her thoughts, and they were obviously more cheerful than this. well, were. looks like dementia's come to play.

then she paused, staring out into the abyss behind whatever she had just demolished. soon, a growl sounded, tingling his lobes. and it caused them to flick, his golden orbs now at normal size. tilting his cranium, he spotted her over-the-shoulder glance and c.ocked an eyebrow. clearly, he wanted an answer. and thankfully, he got one.

"there's quite a bit i should explain to you, some things you never knew about me. there's a voice inside my head, that speaks to me. angers me, tells me things i don't know or understand. haha, it's kind of funny you know, i'm not a schitzo, but it's there..." a light sneer played at his gleaming pearls, and he chuckled darkly aloud. ah, how intriguing.

"my absence has been prolonged enough as it is, i should head back to camp before they begin to suspect anything. we'll meet again soon, in three days. meet me at fourtrees, alone." and he smiled, almost grinning at what the future may hold.

chuckling again, he responded, "but of course, my pretty." he prepared to leave, his right paw already halfway from the ground - but the bird's cry caused him to instinctively and instantly tense. his yellows narrowed in its direction. someone was here. and perhaps he would have felt more comfortable by ignoring it, but the thing was, a rustle came. and immediately, he bared his pearls.

"come back for seconds, smallclaw?" smallclaw? ah yes, he had heard that name before. even saw the tom. after all, it wasn't so irritating to remember icestar's deathbed. a dark chuckle escaped him, and, catching midnighthowl's glance, he nodded.

unsheathing his claws, he backed up one step, two steps, and blended in perfectly with the shadows. narrowing his gaze even more so, to make it much more difficult to spot, he slunk off, easily catching the scent of the warrior. i wonder how tasty your blood is, black warrior. and soon enough, he spotted the ebony frame, clearly the warrior he spotted before.

he sneered, licking his jowls. i found you, my prey.

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[small • claw]

He knew he was on some kind of trail, and he felt deep down inside of him that it was extremely important whatever it was. He'd broke into a swift gallop, his paws drumming the ground evenly. He didn't want to even think of the name or the face the smell belonged to and he knew he was crazy for even ensuing her, of all cats. He wasn't so quick to forget about the shoulder wound that had costed his apprentice most of her training time, and made him a near cripple for a moon or two. He didn't like being the fit of pique for ShadowClan's sake, his temper had better uses. He drew to a halt, or a slow paced walk, careful not to make any noise. It was his sixth sense talking now, his conscience, that pleaded for him to stop or turn back, or both, but he was too drawn into curiosity to chicken out. He could hear murmuring, faint but surely, and proceeded onwards until he could make out what they said perfectly, almost. ...and cats who are willing to betray their Clan in hopes of some greater future. I have thought through the beginning of my attack, we simply gather our numbers, play it cool and keep our existence low, the Clans will never know what hit them. What!? His emerald eyes grew wide with disbelief. Midnighthowl was planning an attack on the Clans! He struggled to make out who she was talking to; through the dappled brush, he saw shadows. Though, their figures were even blacker, he already knew what Midnighthowl looked like, but her friend? He was big too, and dangerous looking.

God dammit. The giant she-cat had paused, climaxing some extra note that she forgot to mention, another factor to go along with her scheme. We strike ShadowClan first, tear them from the marshland and move in, assuming a new residence, He was almost shaking now, a mixture of both anger and fear. Fear. It'd be a while since he'd felt that, from some she-cat of all things, but ShadowClan had no idea. Hawkstar had no idea. She was a nutter alright! He didn't doubt what she said, and he knew she'd try whatever it took to achieve her goals. He drew a step back, too engrossed in thought and shock to watch where he was stepping. A leaf rasped under the weight of his hind leg and he gasped, louder than he'd meant to. Time to split! He had about ten seconds before he heard the husky voice. He could practically feel it, sending shivers down his spine. Come back for seconds, Smallclaw?

Seconds. He might have laughed if his death wasn't knocking at the door. I'm not crazy like she is! "No!" He hissed under his breath, but when he turned to run, he was surprised to see a large figure looming over him, threateningly. He unsheathed his claws, and his eyes narrowed down. "Get out of my way!" He challenged, and if not, then he could always go the other way... He didn't feel like sizing up a cat twice his size, at least not today. The sun was beginning to set, and all the prey had gone back into hiding, or most of it. A cool breeze wafted through the pines, and it sifted through their fur. It made him prickle, if the haunting yellow gaze of Deathclaw didn't. It was like being lost in a sea of sunset. Blood red sunset.

[deathclaw]

here's your ticket to hell.

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— deathclaw

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the fear was very clear, and the moment he heard the tom's hiss, he instantly knew the smaller was in for trouble. he had faced midnight's wrath before, had he? well, that wasn't very pretty. and deathclaw wasn't one to dress and pretty up a victim. once a victim, always a victim. sneering, he nearly cackled; his yellow eyes glittered with an insane darkness, a bloodthirsty serial murderer. his claws unsheathed and tore unconsciously at the earth beneath him.

one turn was all it took, and they were nose to nose. a slow, freakish chuckle nearly shook him, as deathly gold met shaken emerald. his tongue rolled along his lips, as if moistening his jowls before a meal.

"get out of my way!"

deathclaw blinked, for one moment, as if his evil took time to lace those words with tainted hearts and minds. and then he really did laugh, a low and chilling cackle. and right then, a breeze ran its fingers through his fur, thrilling him. and it whispered to him. death's whisper. his ally.

almost grinning now, his shoulders tensed. "your way? i'm afraid you're in my way," he almost purred, his tone velvety soft, but rang of a cruel heart. a wretched soul. rolling his shoulders, his claws sank deep into the earth. behind the tom, he could hear midnight making her way over.

"were you here for a little treat?" because you just became ours.

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[midnighthowl]

do not be foolish, midnight. i have accepted my fate, and my past. they have permission to haunt me. Good, then it would be fine if Midnight hunted her down... i do not run from things i am not afraid of, midnight. i do not run even from the things that terrify me. and i'm sure you know that; you inherited that from me. She only blinked calmly, her eyes glancing skywards, and her head brushed up along with it. The black she-cat chuckled; it was a dark, low sound that rang from her throat with something akin to pleasure. No, she didn't feel threatened by him, only what he knew. If he told someone, then the entire idea of a band of traitors and rogues and the alike, was ruined. Up in smoke, though.. she didn't think that was going to happen. Not when the odds against Smallclaw were running in her favor. Her ocher eyes narrowed, flickering to Deathclaw beside her. She half hoped he would help her strike fear into the core of this Warriors heart, as if she even needed to... but she needed a duo. To let the stocky tom know that she had backup and she really would build an army to wipe out him and the rest of his stupid friends. "Oh, take your time," she snickered comically, watching Deathclaw slide away silently, his dark figure disappearing behind the undergrowth that cut her off from Smallclaw and ShadowClan... if she did decide to kill him, nobody would smell his rot, not in the Carrion place. I'd give it a week, her thoughts cracked, before the crows pick him clean. She searched again for some presence in her mind, but her mother had cut her off behind that... wall.

So, the voice, Ice, had finally left her be? She'd been waiting for it to leave her for years and now that it had, she didn't feel so accomplished. She felt indifferent, considerably numb to the fact. The sun was lingering on the borderline of the horizon, but the coverage in the pine forest made the streaks of fire filter through in pieces. Shadows were growing thicker in the dying waves, and she knew, that it would be dark before the sun had actually set. Her bodice pushed through the greens, her claws unsheathing and her expression straightening grimly. Get out of my way! Smallclaw hissed as bravely as he could, but really, when you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, what are you going to do? You're going to die. your way? i'm afraid you're in my way, She felt a laugh coming on; that Smallclaw would turn just then, and she was in his face. Her pearls visible in the curl of a smile, "I don't think you'll be going anywhere, dear," she jeered drolly, "Except, well, in the ground." her husky voice was matter of factly, but a light played in her eyes. They smoldered like hot liquid, molten lava. She took one of her large paws and pushed him to the ground harshly, her expression never changing. She ran a claw over his throat as she pushed her palm into the base of his neck. "You know," she started evenly, though there were hints of malevolence that tainted her voice. "You could join that braud, what's her name.. oh! Sparrowflight, yes. Sparrowflight, I bet she's waiting for you in StarClan," she mocked, "You fools think StarClan's in the sky, but really, you're too blind to see that StarClan... StarClan's in the ground. Where the dead go. That's where you're going..." She clamped her teeth angrily, reminded of his betrayal to his Clan. That he met that crippled RiverClan she-cat and was meeting her secretly at Fourtrees. "You've been bad, spying on me and my friend here. So, you deserve to be punished, isn't that right, charming?" She laughed, her red and orange flecked eyes flickered to Deathclaw. She leaned in, close to his face, "would you like it slow and painful? Or quick and easy? I do both very well."

[deathclaw]

what was i about to say? oh yes - just kill him.

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— deathclaw

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her monologue, for once, was something he wasn't willing to listen to. it had nothing to do with him, after all, and more about the black warrior's lover. he almost wanted to vomit. love. how pathetic. and it was against the warrior code, if he heard right? these warriors called themselves loyal to the last drop of blood? ha! how laughable! ridiculous.

"you've been bad, spying on me and my friend here. so, you deserve to be punished, isn't that right, charming?" he felt the beginnings of a sneer crease the edges of his lips, and a static spark as their deathly gazes met.

a dark chuckle rumbled within his throat. "indeed, my lovely."

"would you like it slow and painful? or quick and easy? i do both very well." deathclaw nearly chuckled again. i wouldn't doubt it.

flicking his tail, his lobes perked forward; he could feel his claws, parched of blood, writhing inside the soil as his shoulders nearly rolled again. his bodice had lowered, clearly hinting that he was hungry for some violence. "i believe slow is more of a show for the audience; i'm in need of a cruel song." and he knew she was probably aware that the song was a melody of his death cries.

beneath him, the blades of grass snapped. his claws weren't taking kindly to anything - and neither were his pearls, which glinted so darkly in the approaching night. the shadows seemed to whisper, smile; it's not like death cares how you go. and really, death didn't. but he sure as hell did.

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[small • claw]

He had already figured his death was right around the corner, or at least, that's what it felt like- but that did not push terror into his heart. Too concerned with the tom in front of him, Smallclaw didn't hear or scent anything else. He unsheathed his claws, a growl rising in his throat; if he had to, he would make this cat get out of his way, even if he was twice his size! Besides, who was he kidding?! He had long since accepted that he was not the largest warrior, not the strongest or the smartest, and that he could be beaten in battle. Though, what everyone else needed to know was that he was proud to be of ShadowClan, and that if these cats had any sense in them... they would know too, ShadowClan cats did not go without backbone. His emerald moonstones smoldered with an ominous darkness, and he squared his shoulders. your way? i'm afraid you're in my way, What would he do? Get mad or stay reserved? I’m far from reserved, fft. Then… his brow pushed down, shadowing his fiery glare, his tail swung from side to side, about to throw himself into the long haired Rogue, but there was a smell that took him by surprise. His shock overrode his antagonism and he twisted around instantly, catching gazes with Midnighthowl herself. were you here for a little treat? he heard Deathclaw cackle behind him, humor tinting his tone.

She was large; larger than he remembered her being at Fourtrees… but that could have just been his mind playing tricks on him, since when she’d attacked him last, was quite a while ago. He felt deviance rise within him; a resistance. She intimidated him, but he did not want her to win. He did not want to submit his pride, and his loyalty to her, for her simple amusement. If anything, he would have liked to wipe the laugh off her face… maybe then she would stop laughing and realize life wasn’t a game. Her logic was impractical, he’d come to find. Her show at camp did not make him believe she was loyal, how she spoke kindly to other cats, helped them when they were unhappy. She was just trying to seem credulous, and Smallclaw half wondered if it was working. If she killed him here and now, who would question her, of all enemies in the forest? I don't think you'll be going anywhere, dear, she jabbed bittersweetly, Except, well, in the ground. What goes around comes around. His only reply was a brave hiss. You know, she started suddenly, her voice was considerably smooth. It'd lost the cynical edge. You could join that braud, what's her name.. oh! Sparrowflight, yes. Sparrowflight, I bet she's waiting for you in StarClan, You fools think StarClan's in the sky, but really, you're too blind to see that StarClan... StarClan's in the ground. Where the dead go. That's where you're going...

"An old hag like you," he spit, "would sooner join me." He raised his chin, boldly. Her teeth clamped furiously, and he wondered if he'd triggered a nerve. Some hot spot; would she kill him for that? You've been bad, spying on me and my friend here. So, you deserve to be punished, isn't that right, charming?

"i should tear your shoulder up for that" he growled, remembering Shadowclaw. In a quiter whisper, seething, "i guess it's a small world after all; you learn a little, hurt a little." He tried to pretend her words didn’t hurt him, that they left no incision on his chest. Poor Sparrowflight… and poor Shadowclaw. He wished she would fall to the ground, dead. Her breathing supply suddenly restricted. would you like it slow and painful? Or quick and easy? I do both very well. "How well do you pursue? My apprentice could be anywhere. You don’t think I wandered here by chance, do you? A day like this, ah, perfect for a training session,” he snickered, but lifted his throat- an easy target. “I’d like it slow, by the way” he added in a heartfelt chuckle, but he was really only laughing out of hysterics. “Just keep in mind, by the time you finish,” he paused to sneer, “your… ah, plans, would be bust. So if you decide to kill me, don’t forget to dig up enough space for two.” And he knew she knew that he was referring to their graves. His head upside down, he eyed Deathclaw for an instance, "Maybe three."

[midnighthowl]

One would have thought that he’d be frightened out of his wits after that she did to him at Fourtrees, well… if anyone else knew. The stupid warrior was more defiant to her threat, as if life and death didn’t matter? Bewilderment flickered in her ocher gaze for a moment, before common sense pulled her back with a jerk. She couldn't show him her surprise, he might start to get the sense he were winning. Midnighthowl, scoffing, denied even the possibility of going under. Call her conceited, but she knew very well in a ring against Smallclaw; his size puny in comparison to hers, she'd have tore his heart out with the white of her claws and devoured every last bleeding bit. Perhaps verbally, or even in a sense between triumph and defeat; she wouldn't let him win anything. An old hag like you, The black tom spit; her heartbeat accelerated as new-found rage settled in. Old? Midnight... old? An old hag? Pearls embraced violently, like an earthquake in her head; brow pulled down to overshadow the depths of her smoldering rays. would sooner join me. oh hohoho, he was good, but that didn't contradict the factor that she hated him... though, as insane as she was, she admired the challenge, and therefore, despite her revulsion, did enjoy his presence, if only a little.

Angst sweeping, she snickered darkly as he boldly lifted his chin versus her. i should tear your shoulder up for that, his tone was a growl, but did he mean it? Or did the thought of his once-beloved Shadowclaw, (oh yes, she remembered) force his insolence to a peak? My little raven haired friend, If only you could. She thought humbly, a purr pulsating in the heart of her throat. Smallclaw added, quieter, i guess it's a small world after all; you learn a little, hurt a little. "Mainly those who can't keep their faces where they're actually wanted, perhaps." Solicitously, she wondered that... if Smallclaw could betray his Clan, break the warrior code for of all things, a crippled RiverClan she-cat, that he might be easy to persuade to join the Coterie. Golden-red moonstones stared blankly at him, eye contact was inevitable; not when her stare, as vacant and empty as it was, seemed to see into his soul.

He wouldn't. She knew already that the one thing that tore him from his loyalty the first time was pure, innocent love (inside of a not-so innocent situation). He would never love the Coterie, and he would never love Midnight, of course, not in that sense... but a friendship. She couldn't see that anywhere in the future, actually. Not even a common agreement. They would always be enemies, probably even after one of them had died. How well do you pursue? My apprentice could be anywhere. You don’t think I wandered here by chance, do you? A day like this, ah, perfect for a training session, Was he trying to scare her? To bride his way out of a mess that he wandered into so carelessly? She pursued him before, didn't she? At Fourtrees, following his scent was like following a stone trail. There hadn't been much complexity about it; so what of his apprentice? How easy would she be to track and before she made it to the camp? I'd like it slow, by the way. Surprising, actually. Interest gleamed fresh in her orbs; glowing the iris- he lifted his neck to further confirm his statement. What was funny, in truth, was that he didn't seem afraid at all. And he was the one that was laughing. Was he so willing to give his life up for something like this? To die by her claws, because he couldn't beg for his life? Even then, she wondered idly, would she have let him keep it? Glancing at Deathclaw, she quirked an already narrowed forehead. Should she go on with it? If for contemplation sake, his apprentice... Just keep in mind, by the time you finish, your… ah, plans, would be bust. So if you decide to kill me, don’t forget to dig up enough space for two. He was crazy, and she found some form of respect building inside of her. Even if it was all just a hoax, he was doing a very good job of...

A hiss of abhorrence sparked. He was winning their feud. Smallclaw's head lolling back to eye the quiet, male rogue, she drew her lips back into a curling snarl; ear-piercing. Maybe three.

She wanted to kill him right there, take her claws and rip into his entrails, and choke him with their bloody ropes! Stomp his organs, and drink his blood; sipping it as if it were a delicacy, a delectable delicacy! Slice the flesh off of his bones like the meat off of fish! Gut him! Watch him bleed out, every torn piece of him! She wanted him dead! Along with his stupid Clan! Ears flattened, and shoved him hard into the ground, before pulling him back to repeat the process. "Yeah? You really think SO huh!? I'll dig one for your head! Another for your legs, and ANOTHER for your trashing heart, you danging swindle!" Eyes wide, her breath came out in rasps, huffs; grip tightening she felt the longing for blood on her tongue, her teeth were itching to maul him inch by inch. Oh yes! I'll maul him! Like a bear!

He wouldn't win this war! It was a war the Clans would actually lose! Her tail was thwipping from side to side, cutting the air. "I'll beat you so severely, if you could walk back to camp... if you could speak, you'd be begging me to kill you, because there is no better benevolence in this world, in the forest, that would better save your worthless life. You should be honored to die by me, an actually credible existence." Each word came slowly, seething, and there was no way he could contain himself... No, not after this. She'd snapped just a smidge, but that wouldn't happen again... Surely not.

"What would a cat like me possibly gain from sparing a bitch like you?" These words would be unfamiliar to him, as a Clan cat, human language had little meaning to him. As it should for her, but she'd seen to much in her life.

Then she laughed.

[deathclaw]

your poor ass must be lonely.

[/font]

— deathclaw

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"an old hag like you.." almost immediately, he quit listening. for his mind decided to take over with comments. such as, you're in for some blasted hell, wretched fool.

he was eager, entirely eager, to see the black warrior's blood stain the earth. give it a taste of vampiric urges, just so the wretched ground wouldn't grow tired of the crimson elixir by the time the coterie decided to tear the clans apart, limb from limb, organ from organ. a demented sneer contorted his already cruel exterior. but then he paused to think. because the tom, with such words of threat, proved a point.

"how well do you pursue? my apprentice could be anywhere. you don't think i wandered here by chance, do you? a day like this, ah, perfect for a training session." a low growl rumbled in his throat. a training session for the reapers of the dead. he chuckled quietly, like an insane hiss in the background. i myself am among their ranks.. and, oh, how well he was.

his tail lashed, irked and enthusiastic at the same time. "i'd like it slow, by the way."

"good," he rumbled. "it'll match the pace in which you're incinerated into hell."

[/font]

"just keep in mind, by the time you finish, your... ah, plans, would be bust. so if you decide to kill me, don't forget to dig up enough space for two." he could feel his shoulders tensing, and he spotted the glance directed at him. "maybe three."

her snarl didn't startle him; it fueled him. that sound, like metal to his ears, brought forth his own snarl, more wolf like than anything. and then he nearly cackled, pearls glinting as he felt flames burn within, flaring through his dark, satanic gaze.

and he listened as she seethed, listened to her words. but they didn't register. he merely chuckled darkly, at first a soothing but shadowed hum. but it slowly magnified in sound, in strength - and as soon as she spat the last words, the main word that he heard was bitch. by then his demonic laugh was loud - and it became a cackle.

taking a large, rasping, lunatic gasp to catch his breath, he roared, "yes! yes, my dear darkness, your words are of the most gorgeous!"[/font] he continued to laugh, almost wheezing for a split second as his claws tore apart the earth, as if he made it bleed. "my pretty," he finally calmed, purring. "you're nothing less than a genius."

and then his yellow gaze flickered to the warrior on the ground, pinned down. doomed, if they didn't spare him. sneering, almost grinning, he approached, nearing and peeling away from the shadows. his claws tore away from of the earth, which drifted down as he reached them.

a dark chuckle escaped him. "now, my fellow bastard," he raised his paw, "heed our words." and then he swung, aiming straight for the forehead.

"you may not tell."

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[small • claw]

[bg=0f0f0f][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] a6b04b - speaking color 8e926c - good conscience 533826 - bad conscience Her anger made his insides knot uncomfortably; he even half-expected her to run her sprinkled claws down his underbelly, gutting him like a fish, however, he noted that her fury came from what she could not accept. He was winning, yes and StarClan knows if Whisperpaw was still in the territory, likewise, if anything he'd said had been valid. Smallclaw'd taken his chances and splurred smoothly from the depths of his mind the most believable lie possible, and was Midnighthowl actually taking it into consideration? Her temper answered for her. Ocher moonstones were smoldering like a fire-pit, and her claws unsheathed, lifting him suddenly only to spit, seething, Yeah? You really think SO huh!? I'll dig one for your head! Another for your legs, and ANOTHER for your trashing heart, you freaking swindle! Of course, she hadn't said anything of absolute value. Would she kill him here and now because she couldn't contain herself? Would she risk it, even when it may have all very well been a false threat, the glory and success of her plans? The black she-cat slammed him back onto the ground, a stick digging its way into his back. He wasn't afraid of death (but he did prefer to stay alive). She had nothing on him. Despite the ache, the corners of his maw curled. He was grinning. I'll beat you so severely, if you could walk back to camp... if you could speak, you'd be begging me to kill you, because there is no better benevolence in this world, in the forest, that would better save your worthless life. You should be honored to die by me, an actually credible existence. Emerald eyes narrowed tartly, but good-humored, glared at her triumphantly. Despite the hatred that was unmasked in his gaze, the fact that she was subtly submitting herself made the strings of his pride, flicker to and fro like a harp and it too, shown through his orbs. He wound his own paws securely at her shoulder, forcing her to come closer. Claw him, bite him, kill him, no matter. He would have died a brave, and loyal warrior, but she would die with him and all she would have died as, was a piece of traitorous, disposable trash that would, evidently, not be missed. "Then what's stopping you?" He whispered, the words slicing through his tightened jaw. What would a cat like me possibly gain from sparing a bitch like you? He hadn't had enough time to think about that; the deeper voice of her male friend echoed just behind him. now, my fellow bastard, heed our words. A dark cackle escaped his throat, vibrating the ebony warriors ears. A paw raised, threateningly almost, before within the blink of an eye, it lashed out; striking Smallclaw about his forehead. The pain came later, and it was familiar, the throb or ache of the pulsating blood. It trickled down, blurring his vision just slightly. Hoarsely, he hissed, blinking but to no avail could he get the crimson liquid out of his moonstone. It was the least he could expect, but either way, a claw or two wouldn't make a difference for their future's. Resentment was building up inside of him, and his claws unsheathed, releasing from Midnighthowl of course, but scoring the ground with full desire's to launch himself at Deathclaw. I could do better with blood in my mouth, but hah, I'll only need one eye anyway to fillet him. A sinister voice endorsed inside him, a conscience, one he was sure he'd met before... but still, unfamiliar to pure memory. you may not tell. He didn't wait to reply, his words shot out like a dragons howl, piercingly, and enraged. "There's little reason for me not to!" he spat, "You don't own me. Unless there's something I get out of this, you kill me, you really might as well rot in the earth, as you say. You let me go, your plans go unspoiled but I want something. I'll keep my mouth shut if you do something for me, and if you deny my wishes, it's a deal breaker. You don't do this, kill me, forget your stupid plans, let me go, no matter. The Clan would know within minutes." He smiled eerily at the larger tom, smugly almost. A cut? Was that the best he could do? Was that the best either of them could do? He hoped it wasn't, because he wanted Emberstar dead. not the best, but not the worst. /ooc