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

[midnighthowl]

No, the last thing she cared about was what happened to the ShadowClan scum, but if his words rang true, she would need to be careful. If his angel apprentice lie in waiting just beyond the dense thicket, listening, consuming... the black she-cats ocher moonstones flickered like candlelight; Smallclaw would need to be kept alive, and in one piece. Haha! Though, didn't you have to be whole anyway? Her dark mass shifted comfortably, ignoring Deathclaw as he slashed the cheeky rat. Moans of pain and rage amused her to no end, and she laughed quietly, hysterically while listening to what he spit between clenched teeth...

There's little reason for me not to! 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. Maybe. Hmm, this is very ill-timed. Taking notice of what he said, her thoughts were suddenly very serene. If there was one thing she was good at, it was keeping secrets... and she had a feeling she knew where he was getting at. If he wanted to live, she hoped he could do the same. Keep a secret. The ebony warrior continued, his voice never wavering to begin with.

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. She wondered when that tickling influence would utter its own two-sense, but to her surprise, she was greeted with only stillness. Her tail tip twitched back and forth as she deliberated his proposal... what would a cat like him desire? Her claws sheathed, unsheathed, sheathed as she dug into the ground, absently interested in the upturned dirt. To think Midnight was even considering his offer was beyond her; she could not begin to fathom what thoughts and emotions he battled with. To die or not to die, that was the question.

Another snicker broke past her lips, and she rose a paw to examine her fine pearls. Gleaming gems went wayward, watching Smallclaw like a beacon. She approached him with plumed feet.

"And just what would a cat like you," her orbs narrowed, "yearn for? Is it freedom? Heroism? Or love? How about revenge?" Her tone was silky, but all the while, bittersweet.

Smallclaw's eyes lessened in turn, and he tensed. Was that it? "Revenge?" She repeated, softer. It was a delectable whisper in the atmosphere. There was a heartbeat pause as she measured him.

Her powerful voice growled surely, and somewhat respectably. If he valued revenge on the hated, she would not mock him for that. She would even ask the same if she were in his shoes... but she wasn't. And why not? Because she knew exactly who she was. A cat like her had bad blood, no alliance could change that.

"I can do that."

Midnight glanced to Deathclaw, "Just give me a name and a location. And if you keep your mouth shut-" She was fierce! She pushed her muzzle right up close to his, a warning, a threat. "The deed will be done."

Heaven knew she would do it. No regrets. Cross her heart.

Not bad! 650

[small • claw]

Despite his mind sputtering and spewing excuses, he was still afraid that Midnighthowl would turn down his offer. What if she killed him anyway?! Ravenpelt would never know, and neither would Whisperpaw... his Clan may never see him again. At this rate, he wasn't even sure if he was going to join StarClan. Sacrificing his Clan for his personal safety, would they see it as taboo? If he died, his Clanmates may never get the chance to find out. At least living still granted Smallclaw the opportunity to rat her out, for their better cause, a resistance.

His jaw tightened, canines clasping together, nearly grating. Emerald moonstones were fierce with defiance as he looked onwards, watching the turncoat like a hawk. When she laughed and stood, he jerked away, wishing desperately that he could get as far away from her as possible... If Deathclaw weren't guarding him from behind, he might have already got the jump on camp. Why is it always me? And just what would a cat like you,

Moonstones narrowed, he felt his claws itch to unsheathe.

yearn for? Is it freedom? Heroism? Or love? How about revenge?

He couldn't deny it. He wanted more than anything to serve Emberstar a dose of his own medicine. He'd injured Ravenpelt, grudgingly, and he would pay. The black warrior wanted to see the ThunderClan leaders throat gouged out, his course russet tabby fur soaked with his own blood; he wanted to hear him gurgle as he choked on it, as it consumed him, drenching the ground at his dainty paws. It was something Smallclaw dreamed about doing. He found his silence as a soundless submission; Midnight knew what it was. She would know that she'd hit the spot.

Revenge? The dark she-cat repeated calmly, a snicker playing at her lips.

Smallclaw made no shift in expression, he only glowered.

I can do that. Just give me a name and a location. And if you keep your mouth shut- She broke off abruptly, The deed will be done. Fine then.

His long tail lashed, thwipping the air and slicing a dead leaf in half. Carrion place stink wafted towards them, the breeze carrying the poisonous reek of death. "Emberstar of ThunderClan," he growled swiftly, his words a dangerous rumble from the deepest cavern of his chest. "I want him dead."

That was all he had to say. Hesitantly, he got to his paws, pushing himself away from her, expanding the proximity between them. "If you do that for me, I'll stay quiet for you." Green depths smoldering, he inhaled, keeping the breath locked the trunk of his body. StarClan, he thought grimly, What have I just agreed to?

543

[deathclaw]

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[bg=000000] so that was what he wanted? revenge? how nice. it seemed as if nowadays, everyone wanted revenge. even he. and he ought to say.. it gave the most pleasant urge for bloodshed. but he had to admit that it was such a cliché effect and desire; everyone, everything. revenge, revenge, revenge. everything was revenge. oh but he never said he could blame them. it had one of the most unique and delectable tastes upon the tongue; a tantalizing yet sickening feel to the throat. after it was accomplished, of first. he knew full well the effects of desiring revenge and after the deed was done. most lost their way. and he wasn’t talking about merely losing their way. he meant, most of them grew insane or became engulfed in guilt. some grew illogical and died under ridiculous circumstances. others were murdered, while the rest committed suicide. but he and midnighthowl were not among those morons. they were far superior in that department, and as her glance caught his gleaming yellow eyes, he sneered darkly; their word was true. if she didn’t manage to get to the bastard first, then hell knows that something else did. midnight wasn’t one to fool around when it came to a significant bargain, and she was never one to fail. and he wasn’t far behind her footsteps. emberstar, eh? wasn’t he that thunderclan leader? ha – that made it all the more worth it. that wretched bitch named snowstorm was there. dealing that kind of blow to her wasn’t as satisfying as goring her throat out, but it was one he was willing to stick with. besides, if the clan fell apart, so would she. no one had limitless strength. in the beginning to the end, they all break. a sickening smirk curled his black lips. “very well,” he purred, glancing over his partner in crime. the coterie’s mastermind. the gorgeous demoness. a low chuckle broke past his lips. “you will know when your target has been struck down.” in other words, it was guaranteed that the bastard would die. the only question was when. » STATUS: finished! » TAGS: midnighthowl, smallclaw! » COUNT: 356. » NOTES: sorry for uber uber lateness. >w>;

[midnighthowl]

If she were human, she might have been rubbing her hands together while plotting out very carefully the murder of her next and latest victim; but she wasn't, and so she watched the ebony warrior eerily under her bro in its place. Who didn't want revenge? Who had, honestly, never been tortured or ridiculed? Who here, she wondered quite thoughtfully, had never felt hurt or torment? Midnight's tawny eyes flickered between Smallclaw and Deathclaw. That one was easy.

Perhaps the ShadowClan tom was to be feared instead, holding grudges and hatred in the deepest fissures of his heart-

Perhaps... Perhaps, he was just as ambitious as she was. Somewhere, deep within him, there was a monster clawing to get out. Mm?

A rumbling hum vibrated from her chest and up through her throat; it followed very loosely the jingle of a nursery lullaby.

The itsy bitsy worm
inched up the crispy leaf
Dew droplets quivered
And washed the worm away
So the itsy bitsy worm
Inched up the leaf again
Along came the bird
And stole the worm's
head

Well, not a melody from the Clans...

Smallclaw shifted over the damp earth, and the large black she-cat halted her tune.

A pause.

Emberstar of ThunderClan, I want him dead. Her mind erupted with dialogue; there was no doubt in her mind, she would have no problem taking care of the ginger tabby. And she was almost thankful that Smallclaw had chosen a considerably fine choice of action for her, she didn't fancy boring simplistic, run-of-the-mill duties. Her ocher moonstones smoldered again, seemingly resembling an erupting volcano; he drew two paces backwards.

No matter, boy, I could smell your fear on the bark of the trees. If you do that for me, I'll stay quiet for you. Good, haha, but I'm the one giving orders. Her gaze squeezed tighter, intensifying as it locked fiersomely with emerald gems. Her mind was abruptly quiet; the voice had slipped off into a coma, hiding from her the very maze of its intentions.

But she didn't need the voice! How should I kill him nine times!?

She would cut out his eyes, and fill them with nightshade; serving as an evening treat. She could even tear off his tail and choke him with it, or-

Lips curling, Midnight glared with loathing after the warrior, Deathclaw warned him, so there was no need to stand around, they weren't going to make small talk. "Then what are you waiting for? Run along before I change my mind,"

She extended a foreleg, claws unsheathed and glistening at every angle, "Oh, and If you break our deal, Smallclaw," a threat, a warning, "I will find you, and I will kill you." Half of her hoped he would. She could succumb to her tempt.

Then she melded into the darkness. The gleam of her eyes visible for a moment longer before they, too, became nothing but a simple, terrifying memory.

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