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Post by consolaty on Sept 5, 2010 16:19:42 GMT -5
Only open to Ebonysnarl, Furypaw, Deimlo, Nightshade, Lefty, and Gorseclaw - intruders, be warned.
Daylight wasn't waiting; it prowled up over the hillstops, blinding them all with its piercing streaks of golden light. However warm, they made Consolaty's brown eyes burn. Stepping carefully over the moist reeds, the rogue flicked his tail for his comrades to follow; disgusting waterland. Stinking of fish and must, it practically made him sick. He remembered his encounter with Deathclaw, the Coterie's right hand man. It reminded him of the gorge, of the rushing, thrashing river that swallowed him whole. If it hadn't been for Ebonysnarl, he may or may not have been roadkill.
Drowned roadkill, of course. Feeling water lap at his paws didn't bother him anymore, it'd been moons since he'd crawled to safety - in debt to the former ShadowClan tom for his generosity.
Still grudging against Deathclaw for having attacked him blindly, he decided to play candy kisses until it was his turn to strike back. Being here, in RiverClan territory, Midnight had ordered them to launch an ambush on their camp while they fought with WindClan. How she knew that the two Clans were in the middle of a battle, he could not fathom; he was just sure of her commands, and he would follow. To the death. Besides, there was nothing wrong with a little rough play, was there? They had to make their presence known if they wanted the Clans to look over their shoulders every second of every day; he wanted to see their fur prickling as if they felt the eyes of strangers searing into their pelts.
And he had an idea of how they would accomplish that goal. Crouching low, he threw a glance at Deimlo, a considerably new recruit, much like himself. "Their camp is right up beyond this streambed," he whispered, his voice a shrill scoff in the chirp of crickets and birds; beyond them, water surged. Exchanging glances with the others in their patrol, Consolaty skulked forward, his dark tortoiseshell coat a lurking shadow past the clear brook. "I'm going to conceal my scent and appearance by rolling in mud, you should do the same. They won't recognize us later on if they can't make out our features."
Not a second later, he flipped onto his back, and rolled to and fro, picking up an unusual amount of leaves and silt; within seconds, he looked like a breathing rock. Chuckling, he nudged Ebonysnarl over the shoulder, smudging flecks all over his dark fur.
"Call me 'sludge." He joked, bright-eyed. He couldn't wait to launch the throw-down! Maybe they'd kill a few, if they were lucky.
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Post by nightshade on Sept 6, 2010 17:33:47 GMT -5
Searing sunlight made Nightshade squint. It wasn't her ideal weather, for sure, at least not for an ambush -- but it wasn't her place to question the orders, not right now.
Either way, it was a lovely distraction. She was amped with adrenaline, despite the fact that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in at least a week. Night wasn't tired. No, she was well past that stage. At first, the insomnia had been a heavy weight come noon, making her performance less than perfect. Now, though, her body had adjusted -- And I've never felt better. The sleek black cat was animated and energized. Exactly how long that would last before she crashed again, she didn't quite know, and she didn't quite care.
She followed the rest of the patrol. A few nights ago, Reedfisher's presence had opened a whole new can of worms. Not for him, but for her. It had barely been an exchange at all, but it was enough to bug her. Perhaps it was because, if anything, it was proof that she wasn't invincible. That there was always something with the ability to penetrate her suit of armor. It didn't help that he probably hated her, or at least was afraid of her. She was used to cats despising her, but she preferred the latter.
"I'm going to conceal my scent and appearance by rolling in mud," she heard Consolaty say. "Call me 'sludge.'" She let out an amused chuckle and followed suit.
"Yechh, this smells god-awful," she added. "They'll probably take one whiff of us and flee." She certainly hoped not. She was itching for a good fight.
Nightshade finished rolling in the mud, taking a look around at the others. It was a great idea, to be sure. And exactly what she would have done, she thought with approval.
Her yellow eyes were the only thing that set her apart -- her pelt was even more inconspicuous than usual. With luck they could pull this off -- No, luck has nothing to do with it. True.
They didn't need luck on their side. They had all the skill they needed between them, enough to send those fish-eating tweezers running away with their tails in between their legs.
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Post by bonebreaker on Sept 10, 2010 14:01:36 GMT -5
Ebonysnarl slunk along with the patrol in his customary low slung gait and solid expression. He moved more like a stalking tiger than a cat, but then again, his moods had been more like a tigers' than a cats. He had thought at one point, his cover may have been blown when he stupidly allowed himself to care for another cat, only to have it thrown back in his face and want to kill the other creature. his hatred for the clans re-knewed with a dark passion.
He listened to Consolaty's direction and narrowed his eyes, a low, guttural snarl echoing up from his chest. Flame coloured eyes narrowed and burning against his pelt. He followed Consolaty's actions, ignoring the complaints from Nightshade. Well, Consolaty has already very nicely put some on him already, might as well do the rest himself.
He stood up and snorted one, getting the muck out of his nostrils and eyes before flicking his tail and flexing his body, making sure this gunk didn't clog up any of his movements. His ears flat against his head. His annoyance was bocking all other emotions.
Let's roll. |
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Post by gorsepaw on Sept 11, 2010 0:49:11 GMT -5
[bg=000000]
No matter how many times
You flounder and oppose it
No one can escape the wheel of fortune
The sun shone brightly, almost painfully in Gorseclaw's eyes, reminding him just how much he didn't want to be on this raid. He was still tired and sore from the his attack on the barn that had happened a few days earlier. It was long enough for him to get over his embarrassing lack of ability to take charge in the situation. Well, it should have been. Gorseclaw had never really been a cat to forget a thing like that.
Gorseclaw's amber eyes flickered away from the direction of the sunlight, and towards the rest of the patrol. In the moments that his mind had wandered, the group had stopped, and seemed to be doing something more or less important. Gorseclaw recalled Consolaty's voice, and without much warning, said tom dropped to the ground, and began rolling in the mud. "Call me 'sludge." he declared with a smile. Consolaty seemed unnervingly eager to march into battle.
Nightshade laughed and did the same. Gorseclaw laughed half-heartedly. He was trying to be amiable, but laughing made his bruised ribs hurt. The pain in his side reminded Gorseclaw of the fight with the loner who had given him the injury. The thought made him draw in a breath. Naturally, that made his ribs hurt too. The sharp pain made him cough, which he tried to pass off as a laugh at Nightshade's comment. the she-cat was already covered in mud. "Yeah." Gorseclaw muttered in response.
At that point, Ebonysnarl had finished his mud bath. The to came and went with only two words: "Let's roll."
Gorseclaw took his turn in the dirt pile, coating his tabby pelt in a layer of wet mud. He jumped out of the terrible smelling stuff as quickly as possible; even rolling in mud caused him pain. "I hope they stay and fight." Gorseclaw declared, moving away from the mud. "I don't want to smell like this for nothing." The words were a little confident for Gorseclaw's personality. He sincerely hoped that he could back himself up.
notes:
wordcount: 355
muse: not quite there
colors: 990000
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