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Post by Fernpaw on May 25, 2006 8:58:12 GMT -5
Ebon paws silently crept through the shadows. Green orbs so bright they seemed like sparkling emerals as the moons silver beams glinted off of them. A dark figure laid hidden in the shadows. Waiting . . . watching, for someone or something. The solitude of his life had driven him near madness. Now, he was with a Clan again, and a cruel Clan they were too, much to Ferouxs' enjoyment. His expression was cold and heartless, one of showing almost no emotion. He watched as a rabbit crept into view. The large brute pressed himself into the leaflitter behind Lone Hill. A step by step process this was. The leaf liter was damp, so he made less crunching underfoot as he silently seemed to glide through the shadows.
A flash of flying fur and fangs dashed at the rabbit. His speed combined with a surprised attack worked. He soon held a limp rabbit in his jaws. The blood dripping onto the earths flesh staining it. He tightened his grip on the rabbit and smiled with glee as he felt the bones crush. Dropping the rabbit, his fangs tore opens its soft flesh. He gorged on the rabbits soft flesh. Demolishing it beyond belief. He laid beside what was left of his feast, his pools closing as he slept off his feast. But he was always alert. Always on guard. He would never fully put down his guard, not for anyone. He would kill another rabbit and put that on the fresh-kill pile. Stupid Clan creatures, they never knew when somecat might've sneaked a mouthful while out hunting.
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Post by ARTEMISxxx on May 27, 2006 17:58:36 GMT -5
Ivory pelt gleaming in the dim light, the she-cat rested her steady gaze upon the ebony tom, her clear blue eyes never leaving the large brute. As a rogue, she knew the Clan territories all to well, too well for comfort. Around every corner, below any rock, above the unmoving earth-there were shadows. Within those shadows lurked a truth that no Clan cat would face easily, no simple kittypet could comprehend, no loner could ever understand.The simple truth that there were others-others against the peace and prosperity among the lands.They had to face horrible realities, they had to face cruel punishments for misdoings, and they had one other thing that the old Clan cats would never face in their short lives.They were the shadows.Every leader feared them, not only for their terrible strength and cruel ways, but because they were rebels. Rebels were one of the few difficulties of the Clan life, but they were a heck of a lot worse than a protesting warrior.
Twin pools gleaming in the still darkness, the rogue shifted her position ever so slightly, to get herself in the position to run. Not to run away, but to run to. She was prepared for any bloodspill that would occur, but the Clans needed to know that there were more enemies than they thought, and they were to be feared as much as the dreaded fire.A quick calculation in her mind told her that she wouldn't have a clear path. The cat could easily see her charging and have time to retreat or attack back, even though he was on the ground, laying down. But he was laying down, facing her direction. More time to react.
Forgottenlove silently cursed herself, then adjusted her position again. Where could she move where not only she could avoid the Clan cat's eye, but still remain in the shadows and have room to launch a surpise attack. Her clever eye rested upon a small boulder, not too far away. It looked small enough to not be that noticeable, and large enough to cover her slender figure and conceal herself from view. Quickly glancing at the ebony cat and then back towards her destination. The boulder. So taking a deep, silent breath, she took one step forward, towards the direction of the boulder.
Crack.
The sharp sound seemed like a bomb going off.The rogue swore under her breath. She forgot to watch were she was going, and stepped on a beetle's hard shell, snapping it in two the moment her paw set a step on it.
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Post by Fernpaw on May 27, 2006 18:45:17 GMT -5
Feroux swiveled his ears as he looked toward the rogue. She was staring at him, conflicting emotions fighting in her eyes, a squashed beetle beneath her paw. The black tom rose, and rose, and rose. Feroux was a tall tom, and now he seemed even larger, blotting out the moon behind him. Eyes glinted, as he padded forward.
"I don't think you've realised," he began in a conversational tone, "that you are in Clan borders. And do you know what that means?" A smirk played across his muzzle as he settled down a few feet away from the rogue, enjoying her terror.
His powerful hindlegs bunched, as if preparing to spring. He relaxed them, and laughed---a grim, humorless laugh---one that echoed the woods with an eerie effect. An owl, startled from its perch, flapped it's wings and flew into the night, unwittingly flying across the clearing where two cats sat, eyes locked. As the owl's shadow passed over Feroux, he seemed to melt away into the undergrowth, until two emerals orbs blinked out at the rogue. When the shadow flitted away, there the brute was again.
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Post by ARTEMISxxx on May 28, 2006 0:13:14 GMT -5
[Sorry it's so crappish. I'm kinda tired. >.<]
Lip curled to reveal gleaming ivories, she let out a low growl. A warning, you could say. At the slight movement of his hind legs bunching and relaxing, she tensed, ready to meet him in the air. But he didn't leap. The action puzzled the rogue, but only for a short while. He was toying with her! He was toying with her, Forgottenlove, preparing for the kill. No, this wouldn't happen tonight. She had been toyed with enough, and it would not bear to stand it any longer.Instead of a growl, a pure hiss escaped through her maw, giving a deadly touch to the scene. She wouldn't let this brute toy with her. If somebody was going to die tonight, it would be the Clan cat, not the rogue.
"Clan borders, if you haven't noticed, are not respected nowadays by us rogues.I pay no attention to them, and I personally don't care."
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Post by Fernpaw on May 28, 2006 10:13:55 GMT -5
A flicker went through his grin eyes. Respect? Admiration? Amusement? One couldn't tell. Feruox shrugged broad shoulders. "It's your funeral," he mewed.
But instead of attacking, he stood still. He wouldn't be the first to spring. He would leave that up to the rouge. He prided himself on being extremely clever, and in fights, his skills worked best when he was the one getting attacked.
((Sorry! *makes a face* Tired.))
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Post by Silverstream on May 28, 2006 21:21:27 GMT -5
((Do you want a private thread, or can Hazelfern or Rapidstar or Desertfire come? (Hazelfern=queen, Rapidstar=leader, Desertfire=Hazelfern's mate))
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Post by Fernpaw on May 29, 2006 11:11:29 GMT -5
((All can come! Forgottonlove, it's your turn. Sorry I didn't give you much to work with!))
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Post by ARTEMISxxx on May 29, 2006 21:17:42 GMT -5
"What are you waiting for, clan cat?"
The white pelted she cat snarled, her maw slightly ajar to release yet another low growl.Ivories bared, she crouched low to the ground, twin pools of crystal blue staring at the midnight black tom with a hostile exression, lip curled to reveal her front canines.Claws unsheathed and dug into the soft earth and her tail lashed wildly as she anticipated for the fight.He still didn't move. She ceased growling, then mimicked his actions, staying completely still and staring him down with occulates full of hatred and malice. He probably thought that he worked better when he was the one being attacked.Oh, no.Forgottenlove wouldn't give him that advantage. She would leave the first move up to the large brute. His form towered over her, blotting out the white orb in the sky, leaving her in a pool of shadows casted by the muscular tom. She crouched even lower, her hind legs bunching beneath her and her front claws kneading the ground in an impatient fashion, their sharp points tearing up the earth beneath.Who would finally make the first move? Would it be the tom, losing his advantage?Or would it be the rogue, lost to her impatience?
Only time could tell.
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Post by Fernpaw on May 29, 2006 21:28:04 GMT -5
Feroux watched as the rogue settled down to wait. She showed patience. He liked that. He bared white canines in what could've been called a grin---or a grimace, it was kind of hard to tell. "Oh, so now we're going to play the waiting game are we?" he asked, a slight sneer embedded in his voice. One thing with the tom, if he admired something in a cat, he worked extra hard to hide it. He circled the she-cat slowly, green eyes measuring her size and strength.
Feroux didn't like to fight. He avoided it, when he could back down without losing face. But when forced to fight, the tom could fight. He showed formidable strength and skill in the battle field, something he was proud of.
The tom continued to circle the cat a second time. The hard muscles and cords on his legs and backs rippled like living snakes sliding over his body. His gaze was intense and calculating. Feroux finished his rounds and sat back on his haunches, giving the appearance of relaxation. But no. If that rogue took one step towards him, she would find out how relaxed he was. Inside, every muscle was stretched taut in apprehension of the fight that may come.
Feroux regarded her with cold eyes. After a moment or two of silence, his dry voice sliced through the air, "Aren't you going to at least attack or run away? This is getting tiresome. Hurry up, I want to get my kill and go back to bed."
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Post by ARTEMISxxx on May 29, 2006 21:42:40 GMT -5
A pure air of confidence was set directly upon her body, lips curled in a sneer, tail ceasing to wave, hind muscles bunching ever so closer, as if expecting the fight to occur at any time. The she-cat had no problem with fighting. It was a natural course of life. Heck, if there was no fighting, there would be no life. If all the twolegs were vegetarians, there would be an overpopulation problem. If all war ceased to exist between the Clans, they would be a jumbled mess with confused opinions. And most important, if all cats resorted to being kittypets and eating twoleg pellets-well then, they would prove to be spineless cowards, with no other reliance than on the twolegs. So, yes, the she-cat beleived that battle was neccessary in life. This caused her to wonder. Was it neccessary here?But,of course. The Clan cat was defending his territory, and, like most, he probably intended on elimating her for intrusion upon his Clan's land.Unless he was unloyal to his Clan, but that would mean he wouldn't want to fight her.But the scent of battle was clearly in the air, leaving no other explanation than there was to be a fight, and it would come soon enough.
"I don't run from my battles, like most you Clan kitties. Besides, I have no reason to.Also, I won't attack first so you can get your little advantage.Don't toy with me."
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Post by Fernpaw on May 29, 2006 21:50:00 GMT -5
Feroux snorted. "Toy with you?" he asked, a smirk playing across his muzzle. "Toy with you? I never toy with anyone." His tail lashed from side to side, revealing the anger building inside the tom. "And if you want to fight, go ahead. I won't stop you. Fight me." A light began to burn in his eyes, like a hot ember. He crouched, goading her on. "Make the first move," he hissed. "Or are you afraid of being beaten, kittypet?"
Claws dug deep furrows in the rich earth, crumblin roots and shoots in their path. Feroux watched the rogue, unblinking. His hindquarters shifted, then stilled. The tom would not attack, he would leave that up to the rogue.
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Post by ARTEMISxxx on Jun 2, 2006 18:23:02 GMT -5
"You're mistaken, little Clan cat."
A wide grin of malice spread across the she-cat's face, shattering the look of pure innocence that usually was splashed across. Twin pools of ice blue gleamed with pure hatred for the midnight tom, glittering with the new moonlight that rushed to meet her after the tom crouched.Lip lifted slightly, ivories no longer concealed, and crouched closer to the ground, her belly fur grazing the short stalks of grass that had barely shown their faces to the earth.
"I am no kittypet."
With that, she snarled, powerful canines bared in a menacing gesture and ears flattened to her skull. If it was a fight this tom wanted, he would be the one starting it. Not her. She wouldn't submit to him by making the first move. They could be here all night, for all she cared. Forgottenlove had just recently eaten, so she was well fit for a battle. The tom, she had seen, was the same. Her icy glare and his unblinking gaze were mere inches from one another.
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Post by Fernpaw on Jun 9, 2006 22:35:18 GMT -5
Feroux glared back, cold eyes holding a hidden leer in them. A grin flickered across his maw, breaking through the tension. When Feroux grinned at absurd moments, you almost expected to see vampire fangs sprout from his jaws, his paws turn into wings and have him flap away. He sat up abruptly, looking as if he completely didn't care that death might be looking him in the face. The brute proceeded to groom his ruffled chest fur, smoothing it down with rapid licks.
"I'm not one for fighting," he mewed, his cool unruffled. He snorted at her remark about the kittypet. "Of course you're not a kittypet," he retorted, "What twoleg would take you in in the first place?" He continued grooming, looking completely unaware that he had just insulted a rogue who was mere inches away from swiping his jugular vein. He looked up at the sky, exposing his bare neck, giving her the perfect opportunity to kill him. "Pretty night, tonight."
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