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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on May 31, 2006 0:29:54 GMT -5
((ROAR. Buehehehehe...))
As soon as she glimpsed the liquid-like figure of a silver feline, Soul hissed fiercely and hop-skipped to the side to get away, narrowly missing the needle-sharp claws aiming at her flank. Ears were flattened angrily to the back of her skull, muzzle wrinkling upwards to reveal the lethal curved tips of gleaming ivory fangs, a snarl echoing out of her throat like a gong through the oppressive silence. Pale blue ovulars swept over the whole of the clearing, searching for a faint trace of scent to tell of the other cats' positions, their ebony black pupil reduced to a mere slit inside the thick crust of ice. Hackles were raised threateningly, tail sticking upwards like a slick banner of crimson-streaked amber, whiskers taut on the sides of her face. The slightest hint of movevement, the faintest whiff of NightClan feline, the slightest sound of approaching paws would alert her and prepare her for another attack. She knew that she was in danger. Five against one, trusting her nose. Another one had arrived since she had last checked. And not a single one of those cats was an inexperienced apprentice, or a simple kit. They were all killers to the extreme, the cream of the cream. There was no one better at their job than themselves, and what they did was not something a weak-hearted cat would like to watch. Audits flicked to the side as a new sound slithered into her mind with the rate of a speeding monster. The snap of a twig far in the distance. Either prey, or another cat. Oh, joy. She grimaced inwardly, not letting the starting beat of fear drum through her body. She pushed it away, concentrating on her surroundings, eyes looking all around as her head swiveled, ears pricked high, mouth open to taste the air. She would be ready.
As soon as Twilightsilver had begun slipping past the grasses, Agony had gone into action, emaciated frame weaving through the bodies of the other cats until she reached the far side, opposite to where she supposed her companion would strike. As she saw the glint of platinum fur telling of the she-cat's approach, she let a slight grin creep up her maw. However, it soon disappeared as the ThunderClan feline hissed and hopped away, like a frightened rabbit, the stripey female thought gleefully. This time, the voice would not interfere in her decisions. It had been a while since it had spoken to her, and she would not let it come back. Slipping past the intruder, she delved farther into the plants, searching out a weak spot. There. Just behind the vermilion-striped female, a thick tangle of bushes and grass rose up and above the cautious head of their opponent. If Agony was able to climb up there without a noise and descend upon the she-cat, she would have the advantage of surprise, and the others could come running out to attack as the gaunt female held her down. Oh, fun. So much fun. Quickly working out the distance between herself and the strategic point, Agony slipped slickly past, thin form sliding easily about as she advanced once more. Silver paw alighted upon the ground at the base of the difice she had chosen, and stagnant gaze swept upwards to spot where she would be as she leaped. Grinning, she saw that a young sapling had also intertwined with the rest of the plants. Its strong limbs would support her weight, stopping any brusque movements or anything to show that she was there. The only possible problem would be if the she-cat that would soon be below scented her. But she could still jump. It was too easy to be true. Finally, the cats were beginning to have their revenge.
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Post by Silverstream on May 31, 2006 7:31:08 GMT -5
Twilightsilver stayed behind the bushes waiting a while longer. She glanced around for the other NightClan cats. Where was Agony? Twilightsilver lifted her head to scent the air. The light colored she-cat had been there a moment before, but now wasn't. She looked up; it was the only logical place to look, as Agony was obviously not on the ground. Her blue optics lighted upon the NightClan she-cat's form, and the fae grinned. Perfect. Now, lets hope the Clan cat can't figure it out. she thought. Twilightsilver stayed there, crouched close to the ground like a blade of grass would blend seamlessly into it's fellows, and waited for the next cat to attack. She would give the other cats a chance before she killed this pathetic ThunderClanner.
((have to go to school. I'll write more later))
((Edit: Written!))
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Post by Fernpaw on May 31, 2006 8:41:26 GMT -5
Rancour rose to his feet, his scrawny body slinking towards the battle. Scrawny or no, this brute was muscular, and he could fight---and kill---like noboby's business. Keeping his belly close to the ground, he circled. When he was looking at the Clan cat's back, he rose. Large claws unsheathed, his powerful hindlegs bunched and released as they propelled him forward. His goal was not to land on Soul's back, but to overshoot her. He succeeded. He landed lightly on his paws, then turned like lightning and swiped four razor sharp claws at her face. Not waiting to see if he had scored any damage, he darted around to her back where he aimed a swipe there. Then he streaked over to the left side of the Clan cat. But instead of landing a blow, he darted underneath the belly, and kicked up his hind claws, in the hopes of tearing the sensitive belly flesh in a fatal wound.
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on May 31, 2006 10:56:15 GMT -5
"Farg it, Rancour, you blitherin' idiot!"
Agony snarled in rage and exasperation as she saw the tom dart forward to attack, hackles raising immediately in pure fury. It took a lot of will to hold herself back and stop attacking the NightClan cat, but she was still seething in anger as she prowled to another side, hoping to get somewhere before the stupid intruder found out her plan. That way, with a bit of luck and no interference - at this thought, she glared hatefully at the attacking tom, fangs bared and gleaming - she could carry it out later on. Her paws made no sound as they alighted upon the hard-packed terrain of the NightClan territory, not even a single tendril of dust daring to show her position. She slithered forwards, to stand right where she had been before going round to the tall sapling and bushes, and crept on to reach the edge of the grasses. She would strike as soon as that dolt of a male got out of her way.
As Rancour moved about in the plants, Soul could hear the faint swish and rattle of stalks brushing against fur before they were released, clashing into each other to make a peculiar rustling sound similar to that of wind-blown leaves. Immediately alerted, ears flicked to change position, and she followed the tom's progress along the edge of the grasses. He was too heavily built to slide smoothly through the brush and grass, and any movement made by him, unless carried away by the gusts of wind that occasionally swept across the fields and prairie, could be clearly heard. And so, when he attacked, the she-cat was ready to counter or at least dodge out of the way. She had kept perfectly still, waiting nervously, the scent of uncontrolled fear now radiating off her body in waves, tense and stock-still as she listened for the signal of a body through the air. She didn't have to wait very long. The blowing air through ruffled fur made her twist around on herself, but she didn't see a cat's striking form in front of her. Instead, the shadow of a feline's figure passed up and over her crimson-streaked cranium, ivey-cold orbs following it gradually. She whirled around again, facing her new opponent, and snarled in surprise as claws lashed out at her face. Backing quickly away, she managed to avoid the main blow, but one particularly sharp thorn slashed her nose in half. Yowling in pain and anger, she looked again for the tom's muscular frame, and, out of the corner of her eye, noticed him behind her. Jumping swiftly forwards, she completely avoided the next blow, tail sticking up stiffly like a banner to get away from grasping claws. At the moment Rancour slipped beneath her, Soul saw her chance. She hop-skipped to the side, getting out of the male's hind claws' way, and then flattened herself upon him. Not caring if she had gotten him, she rolled over and leaped back to her feet, the stinging cut in her nose making her eyes narrow defensively. She wouldn't be beaten so easily.
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Post by Fernpaw on Jun 1, 2006 8:21:25 GMT -5
Rancour darted away before Soul could complete her attack and crush him. As he passed Agony, he lifted his lips. Pale yellow orbs warned the NightClan cat that just because they were in the same Clan didn't mean she could get away with anything. Paws colliding with the barren loam, the jet black tom lifted his crest, looking over at Soul and the rest of the NightClan cats. With a flick of his tail, he swatted Agony in the muzzle and stalked away. With a snarl, he took his place away from all the cats.
((Sorry! Tired.))
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Post by Katze on Jun 2, 2006 21:30:44 GMT -5
(Meanwhile, Charades stands there like a blithering idiot. I have no time for this Rp, I will have to drop out. Sorry... I am not on as much as to know what the heck is going on. I bid ya'll adu. Charades:Out)
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Post by Silverstream on Jun 3, 2006 11:40:26 GMT -5
((Noooo! Charades, come baaaack!!! *blinks* What was I talking about again?
I'll wait for more people to attack Soul...))
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 5, 2006 10:48:45 GMT -5
((And so will I. She doesn't have much to do at the moment xP))
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Post by Fernpaw on Jun 5, 2006 21:23:43 GMT -5
((Since everyone's leaving, I might as well go too. It's kinda boring trying to raise Agony's blood pressure level.))
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Post by Silverstream on Jun 6, 2006 7:01:00 GMT -5
((Fine. I'll post!)) Twilightsilver threw out an exasperated sigh. Everyone was to lazy to attack this pathetic ThunderClanner. Twilightsilver heaved to her sterling paws, and padded, silent as the night to a closer range of the warrior they were attacking. Malice crept into her optics, and a memory from her kithood hit her. "NOOO!! SILVERFERN!!!!" screamed Twilightkit. Around the distressed kit, a black, evil storm brewed, reflecting what Twilightkit's personality would be like in the years to come. Lightning struck out haphazardly, and one had hit the tree in the camp. The tree that her mother had been laying under. Fire sprang up on the wood, and Twilightkit paid it no attention. The silver she-kit sprang right into the center of the inferno, oddly managing to stay unharmed. Finally the kit reached her mother's side. Her mother was in a terrible state. The usually pure silver she-cat was now caked in red blood. Her mother's head was a bright, wet vermillion color. Sobs rocked the kitten's body, and she lay next to her mother's unmoving body. "Twilightkit," said a voice weakly. It was her mother. "Mother! You're alive! You'll be okay, I'll just get the medicine cat, and you'll be alright. Just wait. Hold on." Twilightkit began padding away to get the medicine cat. "No. It's to late for me," Silverfern's weak voice said. Twilightkit turned around, and noticed something she hadn't before. Both of her mother's back legs were twisted at an odd angle, and blood poured out of them, seeping into the ground. The fire around the two cats hissed furiously as it combatted with the rain trying to put it out. Twilightkit sprinted back to her mother's side. "No mother. You'll be okay!" whispered Twilightkit, trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince her mother. Silverfern smiled weakly. "Promise you will keep your name as a sign of belief to StarClan," she said. "Anything mother," promised Twilightkit. Tears welled up in the kit's eyes, and mixed with blood and rain on her mother's body and the ground around the two. Just as Silverfern's life was lost, so was the battle between the fire and the rain. The fire gave one last furious hiss before it died, and in the same moment, a death rattle sighed out of Silverfern's throat. For hours, Twilightkit remained by her mother's side, sobbing. [/i] Twilightsilver's gaze hardened at the memory. She took it into her mind, and let it give her strength in the pain. She let out a yowl, and attacked the ThunderClan cat with all of her might. Her black claws flashed this way and that, in a seemingly haphazard pattern, but were indeed controlled, and all aimed for the she-cat. Then with her teeth joining the fight, black claws and white fangs flashed, like night and day fighting side by side with a single purpose. Did any of her blows land on the ThunderClan warrior? ((I'm writing Silverfern's death on 6/6/06, aka Devil's Day. Wow.))
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 6, 2006 13:33:47 GMT -5
As Rancour's tail swatted against her muzzle, the NightClan she-cat gave a soft snarl, lifting her lips to reveal gleaming ivory fangs beneath. Deep pools of stagnant liquid narrowed angrily, pupils changing from wide ovals of stiff surprise to mere slits of retained fury, her hatred increasing at the male's stupid behavior. What right had he to hit her, or at least touch her in an aggressive way, when he had been the mouse-brained idiot who had completely foiled her plan? He could have at least considered his actions before carrying them out, but noooo. He just had to do it the way he wanted, without even thinking about the consequences it could have on their not-so-carefully planned attack. What a typical tom attitude. Thinking he would be able to beat that weak kitten of a ThunderClanner all on his sorry self. And getting all hissy and spitty at her only because she had gotten angry at him over his truly doltish failure. NightClan cats should act more responsible for their actions, instead of looking as if they were blaming all their bad luck on the oh-so-superior minds of the others. Rage building up inside her mind, Agony snapped at the feline's retreating tail, not really caring whether her fangs sank into the male's ebony fur or if she had missed, entirely or only by a whisker-length. She needed to save her fury for that worthless, pathetic piece of hide-scrap, that female from one of the stupid, soft Clans, who was even more dumb than that sorry excuse for a cat Rancour and hardly fit to lick the dust in her wake. And so, turning around once more to face the clearing, the striped female pushed her rage downwards for the moment and silently watched the continueing battle between the weakling and the real cats, the ThunderClan kitten and the NightClan warriors, a mouse against the deadly falcons, an ant against all-mighty gods. Smirking confidently to herself, a smug and scornful twist to her steely, cruel grin, she lodged this new comparison inside the dark corners of her mind, saving it for later. It was always wise to remember insults. They seemed to make the opposing cats flare up in proud anger, and it made them all the more easy to defeat. Sometimes, you had to use your wits instead of your force to win fights, however sneaky or unfair it may be.
Body as tense as it would ever get, the crimson-streaked female was alerted immediately when silver feline dashed out of the surrounding grasses and brush to attack her lone form. Platinum paws lashed out at her face and frame, aided by the thorn-sharp tips of ebonite claws. Gleaming fangs soon joined into the fray, shining white compared to the bleak darkness of the she-cat's stilettos, seeking to cause her pain, as much pain as that particular female could have felt before in the murky corridors of her mind and memories. But Soul would not be beaten, and would fight till the end, till the very last breath trapped inside her heaving lungs would escape through parted lips and fill the air with one more deathly rattle of an additional life-loss. Her own form twisting out of the way of the main blows, the strange female hissed savagely as pointed claws ripped through her coat and skin, opening the way for pouring blood. Vermilion rivulets ran across her bright pelt, mixing with the carmine hues already present on her striped amber fur, heightening her rage like dry sticks on a blazing fire. She slashed out with her own feet, leaping into the air and whirling around to batter the opposing feline with unsheathed talons, not caring if her blows landed firmly, softly, or not at all. She only wanted to either die or win, and she would be satisfied. Nothing more would be needed. But these stone-hearted children born of pure cruelty, their minds and bodies filled with malicious glee at the sight of blood on another's body or of the terrorized expressions on a young kit's face as its mother is slowly killed, would never give up the fun. they would probably torture her until she screamed in agony, relishing the high-pitched yowls ripping out from her throat. Death would be a more pleasurable death. She knew she would never be able to win, even though this thought did not affect her fighting at all. However slim the chances may be, she was not going to turn and run like a kittish coward.
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Post by Fernpaw on Jun 7, 2006 21:21:01 GMT -5
Rancour swished his tail out of the way in time. With a sneer curling his lip, he sat away from the she-cat and her murderous temper. What a disgusting creature! Acting like she owned the world! He settled down to watch her fight desperately against the Clan cat. He knew that she knew that she wasn't going to win, but did Rancour leap in to help? No. He was in NightClan, for heaven's sake! This Clan was infamous for the backstabbing habits that went on inside and around it.
The lean brute yowled, "I can't believe you're actually a NightClan cat! No true NightClan cat would let themselves be beaten by a kittypet!" He hoped that would infuriate her enough to actually win against the cat. Not that he wanted Agony to be safe and sound and hearty and win. No, he just didn't want to see his new Clan disgraced by her losing. Not that he really cared about his Clan. He didn't care at all.
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 7, 2006 23:33:12 GMT -5
((Umm... I think there's been a mistake of comprehension xDDD That was Twilightsilver attacking over there. Agony is still sitting on her butt in the grass xP And Soul's the one who knows she wouldn't win. Neh n_n Hope that solves any problems. And sorreh for the OOC only post.))
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Post by Silverstream on Jun 10, 2006 9:05:51 GMT -5
Twilightsilver twisted and turned and slithered, evading every attack delt out by the ThunderClan warrior. Her pelt was a mere blur, as her body bent this way and that, avoiding the female's attacks, while still lashing out with her own claws. Later, if the ThunderClanner lived, she would find a silvery sheen of fur between her claws, for much of the cat's attacks had only reached her coat, and not her actual skin. Blood flew in the air, though it was not NightClan's blood. Her claws were now reddened, and Twilightsilver tasted the the sharp metallic tang of blood on her fangs. Out of nowhere, claws flashed, and hit her on the right side of her head, tearing deep into her flesh. Twilightsilver was thrown sideways, and blood dripped from her face. Three long claw marks now showed on her muzzle, starting from high on her cheekbone, and ending in the middle of her forehead, dragging right across her right eye. For a moment, her injured eye stayed closed, trying to block out the pain. Protecting herself hadn't ever got her anywhere in life. A seige on the pain would also counter it. Eyes snapped open and pure hatred pierced like daggers outwards. Looking straight at the Clan cat's optics. Ocean blue pools met golden ones, and if a word could be stronger than hate, it would describe this moment. Rage infused her voice as she yowled into the sky her fury. Birds flew away as fast as wings could carry them, and prey scattered. Twilightsilver leapt back up, and unleashed another set of attacks on the ThunderClanner. This cat would die.
((When is Soul going to turn the tables on the NightClan cats? Maybe, Zeik could walk up, stop the fighting, and say that the cat can join merely because she held her own against so many cats for so long. Whaddya think?))
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 11, 2006 13:51:19 GMT -5
((Hmm. Yep, that's a nice idea. But Kiibeh will have to post here, then. I'll post in a bit. I like starting from the top.))
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