Transition of Evil (Iceclaw and open) 12

[Juniper]

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[atrb=width,600,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=07071d] It was not yet dawn. A dark indigo masked the sky, thick bunches of clouds drifting lazily across. As time progressed, thin tendrils of cream and peach wafted their way up, lightening up the darkness. A small spattering of stars still shone, though their brightness dim and their beauty diminished. Below, a ragged looking she-cat limped in the sand, her stomach bulging. She had a stormy gray tabby pelt, but the fur was drenched with sweat and matted. A heavily swollen belly signified she was pregnant and could be about to give birth. It certainly felt like it. All day sparks tingled up her spine, but that was probably from nerves. Silverclaw gave a weak laugh. She could cold-bloodedly kill her fellow Clanmates but she was terrified at giving life to kits? Sand swirled up in thick clouds as the she-cat painstakingly settled herself down on the beach. She curled up on her side, rotating her body to accommodate her belly. At last she was in a comfortable position, facing the sea. The ocean waves rocked the beach, its roaring hum akin to a lullaby. Little wavelets crested with white foam, drifting far over smooth, tawny sand then retreating. The glittering, dark waters eagerly lapped at the sandy beach. Silverclaw’s glassy dark eyes watched all this, her breathing slowing to the rhythm of the waves. The new queen had stumbled for hours in the darkness, tripping and bruising herself, just so she could see the sunrise. And at last, the time came. Around the horizon, a fine line of creamy apricot had formed, which slowly but surely extended out so it blended well with the maroon sky. Then, more light graced the earth as the wary sun peeked up above the horizon line. It was a breathtaking and beautiful sight. Even Silverclaw, in all her aloofness and cold heartedness, had to sigh with pleasure. Suddenly, as the sun ascended higher into the sky and it’s light blinded her dark eyes, pain stabbed her stomach. She felt as if icicles were being plunged into her fur, scraping her tender skin. Fangs and claws were digging into her sides as her eyes bulged with the pain. Then her vision began to darken, even as the sky grew brighter. It dimmed until all she saw was darkness, all she felt was excruciating pain, and everything was void. ***** Silverclaw padded softly forward. Everything was still dark but her eyes were cracked open. She saw hazy shapes in front of her, indigos and forest greens. Leaves brushed her dark tabby fur as she walked. Dry ferns crackled beneath her paws. Small pebbles skittered as her claws kicked at them. Where am I? she wondered drowsily. Her eyes simply couldn’t penetrate the blackness surrounding her. Panic welled up in her throat. Usually she could see at least something in the night! But was it really night? The queen bounded forward with frustration. Endless stretches of trees met her every which way she turned. Her jaw opened to drink in the scents of other cats. Surprised, she paused, trying hard to identify them. Some smelled of AspenClan, and other of rival Clans. None of prey at all. But all of the scents were stale. How strange. The silvery she-cat swung her mighty muzzle to and fro in desperation. Her paranoia led her to investigate every inch of the woods. Or at least she tried to. Here, there seemed to be no sense of direction possible at all. Even more strange. Silverclaw extended a paw, claws outstretched, and struck a nearby tree. She hoped that this way she could mark her path, but in the thick darkness, she couldn’t see the claw mark made at all. Then a whistling noise entered her ears, which now pricked. She carefully scooted around and searched for its source. She streaked in any random direction and managed to catch two words: “Dark Forest.” The former AspenClan cat smiled. So this was the notorious Place of No Stars. Upon realization of this, the world shook and she appeared to fall. Down and down she plummeted until… ***** Blearily, the pregnant she-cat opened her eyes. The sun had crept up even more, though it was slight. Sand had been sucked into her nostrils, causing her to give several violent sneezes. Silverclaw stood up shakily, shaking her head to clear her mind. Was that vision true? She wondered. Her dark gaze cast around as though expecting there to be more endless forest. There was none. However, more soft noises occurred behind her. Again she opened her jaw and tasted the scent of another cat. But who? The queen wobbled a bit then fell again. Squeals of protest greeted her. Abruptly, her breathing became labored and shallow. She was surrounded in a little pool of blood. The sight made her sick. She twisted around and saw three bundles of fur – her kits. But she was weak… Too weak now to do anything. Her eyelids fluttered. She was dying now. She was dying and her kits would never see who she was… “Silverclaw speaks” Silverclaw thinks Silverclaw does Word Count; 844 Tags; Anyone! OoC; Yay, Mothkit, Mosskit, and Rainkit are born!

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=3d759a] The ginger apprentice had traveled further than intended. Why? He was unsure, why shouldn't he know the other territories? If they were ever to fight one another, would it not be in his favor to know the layout of his enemies lands? At least that was what he had learned within the Dark Forest, he needed to know every crevice, any slight rock that could lead to an enemy cat's advantage. And he wanted to be the best warrior, he would be. With two mentors, how could he not? His claws slid out at the thought of it, closing his eyes as he imagined himself back in the forest, going over the last training session. He could feel his muscles twitch with each movement his mind ran over. His tail flicked in anticipation and he winced as he remembered Flamepaw's claws digging into his fur, but his own clamoring back just as fiercely. Hopefully no Soulclan patrol found him, the last thing he wanted to do was explain himself to Souclan and his own clan. He could just imagine what they would say. Sighing, the long furred tom inhaled, scenting something, a scent he knew with a scent every cat knew. Opening his mouth he allowed the scents to waft over the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. Blood, the scent was blood. Who was bleeding, it smelled like quite a bit, adn the other scent. It was Aspenclan. His body stiffened, who else was here? Had he been followed? Inhaling again he focused past the blood, concentrating on the scent. Silverclaw? What was she doing out here? Picking up his pace he followed the scent, knowing the blood came from her, there were no other scents out here except the Soulclan scent markers and a patrol had been by hours ago. Spotting the silvery she-cat lying with her back to him, the blood he paused, approaching cautiously. Walking around her he saw her flank rise, then fall for the last time. Shoving his nose into her fur without thinking he gave a respectful good bye. She had always been civil towards him, polite even at times. He hoped Starclan would welcome her, yet something within his gut told him they would not. Perhaps he would see her again, in the Dark Forest, from the plan she had told him about, that seemed mor eher territory. Inhaling her scent, he placed it into his memory, he knew to watch out for this cat. She could beat any, even him. Although he thought he was probably the best apprentice in the clans. An ear flicked as he finished his good bye he heard the distinctive cry of kits. Looking up his deep blue gaze fell to the three kits at her side, desperate for milk. She probably had a bit within her, still flowing until things eventually stop. Hopefully they can find a queen before then. Flicking his tail he studied each kit, sitting down a small distance, perhaps two feet away. He would watch over them until some Soulclan cat came to investigate, then they could deal with it. Or if by some miracle an Aspenclan cat came to take the kits back there. Curling his bushy tail around his paws, the ginger cat with a light ginger base and darker ginger stripes almost looking like waves. With another glance down at the kits he sighed, how did he let himself get here? Kit's were not his thing and they were not even his, thank the stars. However his thoughts drifted to a moment in time he hoped he might someday see. Whisperpaw, with his kits. Although in separate clans, hopefully those boundaries would not apply to him, if he could work things out. Maybe Starclan would want them together, they could find a way to keep the two cats together and have kits. Strong kits like him, with her tenacity. A smirk danced to his muzzle, the tom wondered if any of his clan knew of their meetings, or Shriekingvoice? What would they say? What could they say? He was not going to stop. He loved her and it appeared she cared just as much about him. Bliss. Doing Speaking Thinking "Your cat talking"

[Enìɠмα]

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] Dark tabby stripes, like murky fragments of shadow, curled around the tom's lean physique like a mess of snakes; and as he made his way across the territory, strong, lithe muscles sliding smoothly beneath his pelt, they seemed to move like them as well, slithering and rippling with the slightest of movements. It was a... hypnotizing sight, to say the least. As a small, albeit frozen, puddle cracked underpaw, they seemed to hiss as well, adding to that stunning effect. What, one might ask, was a cat as mesmerizing as this one doing in a place like this? Dawn patrol. No, not even dawn patrol - the sun still hadn't rose in the sky, and from the looks of it, it wasn't going to anytime soon. So here Fadedstripe was, all alone (for he had ran ahead of the others some time before), padding through the seemingly endless darkness like a fool with no place to go. He was bored, too. Utterly bored. Surely there were more boring things in life than this? If so, this was definitely a close second. But, despite his boredom, the tabby was set and ready for a fight - any cat could see this in a glance. His body was tensed like a drawn bowstring, and, as one could easily see, his gaze was alert and wary. Amber eyes, circled by pale, intricate markings, scrutinized the surrounding darkness - yes, it wasn't quite dawn yet, and because it was difficult to see at this time of day, it was also an exceptional time to trespass. Though it was far too dim to see much of anything, the two glowing eyes, almost slits in his effort to see, narrowed considerably. It wasn't a matter of sight at this time of day, but scent - Fadedstripe wasn't going to get anywhere if he didn't use his nose. The tabby threw back his head, the tip of his muzzle pointing skywards, then inhaled deeply. Most of the scents he picked up were familiar; in fact, he almost relaxed. But, suddenly, the stench of blood and AspenClan filled the air, and the tom stiffened. AspenClan... not only was that the clan he hated the most, but now, in the blink of an eye, he had found himself in the same scenerio that his mentor, Briarclaw, had been in. It didn't end well for the ginger tom, that's for sure, and Fadedstripe wouldn't allow that to happen again. Especially not to him. The tom quickened his pace, then, allowing a snarl to creep up on his features, snaked around a bend to see... her. A silvery she-cat in a small pool of blood, with a ginger tom, probably an apprentice by the look of him, sitting nearby. At first, he assumed the worst; that is, until he realized that both reeked of AspenClan and the she-cat was curled around a small litter of kits. His brow furrowed. What was an AspenClan queen, heavily pregnant, and now, dying, doing in SoulClan territory? Hoping that it didn't mean what he assumed it meant, the tabby crouched by the two strangers, struggling to restrain his hostile emotions, then eyed the ginger apprentice. "The rest of the patrol is heading this way," he warned, unsheathed claws digging into the sand. As much as he wanted this dirty AspenClanner to get tangled up in this mess, Fadedstripe knew it would be best to warn him. He just hoped the apprentice wouldn't listen. "If you don't want to get yourself in trouble, then you should leave. Unless you want to stay with your clanmate, that is." [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=9a8b50] Speaking Doing Thinking "Your cat talking"

[mayday]

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[atrb=background,http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb404/InfernoLarka/Iceclaw2.jpg] It seemed like the day was going to start off bad, just how the morning sun was awakening. Like it was hurt, full of sorrow and pain. Slowly the sun was coming, but it was still night out over the horizon and yet Iceclaw was sending out the dusk patrol. Honestly, he didn't know why he was sending them out so early but his paws ached to move as his body twitched to feel motion. Yawning, the white medium furred tom swiftly got up from his nest. He already knew that Fadedstripe was headed out, so Iceclaw was right behind him. As he walked outside of the camp, Iceclaw's heart dropped as he felt something was off, something didn't seem right. Like a fight was going to start or someone was going to get hurt. It was something, the male could feel it within his veins. Sighing, he walked on through the territory following Fadedstripe's scent. Breathing in, as he got closer and closer to the other tom Aspenclan surrounded him. Snorting, he wondered what it could be until he smelt Silverclaw and her blood. Racing to see what has happened, Iceclaw ran out in a full speed run. Getting to the meeting where a ginger stripe apprentice sat over his beloved Silverclaw. Glancing at Fadedstripe, he wished that he would leave. Staring down at his dead mate, he saw three little kittens. One was white furred and exactly looking like him. Iceclaw's heart pounded against his chest as he realized that Silverclaw was dead. Holding his feelings in, he couldn't show what he really wanted to do in front of the other Soulclan warrior. What he did was an offense to the warrior code, not that Iceclaw cared it was just his deputy position that the white tom was worried about. Biting his lip, the male took all shock out of his face, and quietly sat down. Curling his tail around his paws neatly. Staring at the apprentice, questions ran through his mind towards him. What's your name? He asked, his voice deep and filled with sorrow if you knew the tom like Silverclaw knew him. We'll take the kits, if you take the body. Fadedstripe, take her and him back to Aspenclan. He ordered, his blue eye's watering ever so slightly as he tired to blink away the tears. Facing his head the other direction, he whispered to himself goodbye to his loved mate, and wished Starclan would take her in for she was a loving cat, and one needed a fair chance at becoming good. Sighing once more, he waited for Fadedstripe to do something. Doing Thinking "Talking" "Your Cat Talking"

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=3d759a] Now what? Seapaw growled in annoyance as the low-life of a cat, Fadedstripe appeared. He had hoped to have a few minutes to himself to figure out how he was to get the kit's and Silverclaw's body back to Aspenclan. Apparently he would not be granted that time. Deep blue gaze narrowed as the tom crouched near them. Instinctively Seapaw took a step towards the kits, as if protecting them. Although he doubted any cat in any clan would harm defenseless kits, but you never knew. He trusted these Soulclan cats as far as he could throw them. His mouth opened, an annoyed hiss escaping him. He could do little here, he was on enemy territory, he was not foolish enough to try and fight a full warrior on his territory with a patrol nearing. "I can handle myself, thanks,"he said to the tom wishing the other would attack first. He would show this warrior just how tough he was. Seapaw was training with two mentors. He was one of the strongest apprentices in the clans. His tail flicked, wishing to fight, yet knowing it would be suicide. Inhaling he could smell other cats, so the other ha dnot been lying when he said a patrol was coming. If only it had been a bluff. Claws sliding out the ginger apprentice dug them into the earth as he awaited the other cat. Muscles tensed beneath his thick fur in mild frustration at himself. He was an apprentice, true, but had the skills of a warrior and he could do nothing here. He began feeling helpless, then straightened himself, only imagining the snide comments from Flamepaw, Shriekingvoice or Raggedclaws. Looking back down, he gazed at the body of Silverclaw, an ear trained towards the other warrior should he decide to attack, and his blue eyes flitted from the she-cat to her kits. What now? How was he to explain to the clan that they were born on another clan's territory. Although he doubted any would argue with him, Silverclaw had been incredibly distant lately and the kits were rightfully Aspenclan's. Although the identity of their father remained a mystery. It must be some tom in Aspenclan, why would she wander off? Although she had confessed him to her ideas of changing the clans, clans that could be stronger than they already were. Perhaps she had shared these ideas with other cats, cats in other clans. His mouth opened, about to say something more to the other cat, about to ask him if he had smelled her here before, but was interrupted by a white tom coming to the scene. Blue gaze held the ivory cat's, narrowing as he studied the look the tom gave the dead she-cat. Did they know eachother? No. He would have smelled his scent when Silverclaw was in camp. Right? "My name is Seapaw,"he mewed not bothering to ask the tom his, he cared little and yet began caring more when the tom claimed the kits for Soulclan, "Why should you get these kits? They are born to an Aspenclan queen so they should be Aspenclans!"he hissed, ears pressing back against his skull while his tail lashed in annoyance. He knew he could not take on both cats if they both decided to defend the kits. It was probably best if he just took Silverclaw's body back and explained the situation to Icestar. Doing Speaking Thinking "Your cat talking"

[Enìɠмα]

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] Though pure animal instinct demanded that he stiffen a bit, Fadedstripe grinned in genuine amusement as this AspenClan apprentice, nearly a head shorter than himself, growled in annoyance at him. He didn't hide his amusement, either - instead, he proclaimed it in a wide, cheshire grin. My, my - so the ginger tabby was that kind of cat; the type that, despite the obviously overwhelming odds, attempted to intimidate, or even challenge the enemy. And, in this particuarly incompetent case, even on strange territory. The tom was tempted to sigh in exasperation, but instead, bared his teeth in an even wider - if possible - grin. But now, it was more of a sneer than anything else. Leave it to an AspenClanner-- He stopped mid-complaint, and tilted his head as the smaller tom seemed to size him up, then spoke, a hostile look in his sea-blue eyes. "I can handle myself, thanks"The dark tabby looked up quickly, mock surprise replacing his amused expression. "Really?" he gasped, shaking his head in a baffled gesture. "I never would of guessed. Oh, and you're welcome," he added, dark amber eyes sinister. The tom would of went on for a bit longer, until nessecity or the AspenClanner's claws shut him up, but his drivel was interrupted by another cat's appearance. Fadedstripe didn't even turn around; he could tell it was Iceclaw, the clan deputy, by the white tom's scent. Iceclaw looked around, taking in his surroundings with what Fadedstripe assumed was a saddened, yet slightly apathetic demeanor. The dark tabby didn't blame him - the loss of a cat's life was never a good thing, even if it was from an enemy clan. Even if it was an AspenClanner. The tom straightened up as his deputy spoke, a commanding tone to his voice. "We'll take the kits, if you take the body." That was directed towards the apprentice, obviously. "Fadedstripe, take her and him back to Aspenclan." Him? Suddenly, Fadedstripe felt a bit queasy, and it wasn't because of the dead body - as a warrior, he had become accustomed to moving and even burying the dead; it was part of the job. No, that wasn't it. It was... Well, Iceclaw wanted him to go to AspenClan, to encounter that clan of scum on their own territory, and... truthfully, Fadedstripe didn't think he could do that. He had killed a cat from AspenClan before and it hadn't been in battle. It had been in outright revenge. He wasn't afraid of facing the victim's family, though; he didn't care who he hurt, as long as they weren't from SoulClan. It was fear that he might do it again, might kill again. It was ridiculous, he knew, but it was how he felt. The tom parted his jaws, ready to protest, but the ginger tom - who identified himself as Seapaw - beat him to it. "Why should you get these kits? Seapaw spat, suddenly protective of the little, pitiful scraps of fur. His ears flattened against his skull and his bushy tail lashed; despite his young age, the apprentice looked vicious. "They are born to an Aspenclan queen so they should be Aspenclans!"Though he agreed with Seapaw, Fadedstripe found himself grimacing at the apprentice's tough act. There was nothing more annoying than an overconfident kit, and when you threw an AspenClanner into the matter, it became even more so. "Calm down, kit," he groaned, rolling his eyes to the heavens. "We're not looking for a fight. StarClan, you'd think AspenClan would teach their spawn some manners..." Shaking his head, the tom eyed Iceclaw, then spoke, carefully choosing his words; out of all cats in the clan, Fadedstripe didn't want to offend his deputy. "I'd hate to be the rain on your parade, boss," the tabby growled, "but the runt's right. Why should SoulClan keep these kits, even for a little while, if AspenClan isn't too far away? Unless," he attoned, "you want Lavastar's opinion on this...?" [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=9a8b50] "Speaking" Doing Thinking "Your cat talking"

[mayday]

Iceclaw was scared, well mostly heart broken. His mate was dead in front of him, and his kits where helpless in front of him. Sighing, he knew that they would protest against him, but Iceclaw didn't care. These kits where his one way or another, but he wasn't- couldn't tell them the truth. Staring at the white kit, that looked identical to him, Iceclaw blushed and turned his blue grazed on the ginger tabby apprentice. Look, you stupid mouse brain, I don't care a bit if she's an Aspenclan. For one, what are you doing on our land, and secondly what is she doing on our land? Lastly, because she is dead on Soulclan territory then they are ours, and if you protest one more time, i'll rip your fur off your bones!

Anger rushed through the white male, then he turned on his own. Fadedstripe, that was an order! His eyes grew dark, and filled with an desperate look in them. Please? He said softly, in a whisper, his voice broke as he thought about his mate. Making up a lie, he quickly found something that would work. She's my sister. He said softly, glancing at Seapaw, for one of his smart remarks. Quietly, he walked over to the kits, and placed his nose down to each and every one of the the small bundles. There cold... He said with a sad voice.

[Juniper]

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[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=5f4e4a] A small scrap of mottled fur lay nestled deep within the crook of a larger she-cat’s bent paw. The tiny kit’s short fur was plastered to her shriveled-looking body, with a curtain of blood draped over the tip of her tail. It oozed uncomfortably but the young kit didn’t mind. Instead, she was curled up, her eyes shut tightly as she wriggled with comfort. She was slumbering alongside her two littermates, a soot-black she-cat and a creamy white she-cat. They did not resemble each other in the least, and who could say how their personalities were in relation to each other? Their mother was a dark gray tabby who lay motionless on the gritty sand of Sunrise Shores. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. Above her hovered the figures of arguing Warriors, who paid little attention to her state of being. With her hearing coming and ceasing, she could only comprehend certain phrases. From what she gathered in that bogged up brain of hers, they were debating who would keep her kits and why they had all converged at that quaint location. But soon, Silverclaw tuned out the drone of their voices until all she heard was the steady drumming of the ocean. So far away now… Her eyes remained shut. The miniscule kit cried out as her mother shifted ever so slightly. Her fur was dry now and bristling with slight indignation. Wouldn’t the voices stop shouting? Annoyed, she raised her head, her eyelids still pressed to her eyes. From afar, she heard a low, guttural moan coming from her mother. She scooted closer, resting her head firmly against Silverclaw’s belly. “Mothkit…” her mother whispered weakly. “Mosskit… Rainkit…” The kit, too, whispered, “Mothkit.” Then Silverclaw shuddered, and her body deflated. The newly named Mothkit gave a yelp as her mother’s soul departed her body. Her pathetic mewl aroused herself from her dream-like state. Slowly, she gave a few cautious blinks and shrank back at the grisly sight that beheld her. Up above, graying skies greeted her, and the close-up images of the other beings who gathered around her startled her more. Right in her line of sight, she could see a pure white Warrior crouched over, and a flash of ginger fur bristling on the opposite side. There was a blur to her left; she saw a striped pelt before it shifted. To her right, dust-colored sand swept the landscape, stretching up until it met the clear blue of ocean water. Below, she felt the press of rough-edged sand particles and the stickiness of what appeared to be blood. Mothkit writhed in the mess of scarlet, her mewls pitiful. She stared into the icy blue eyes of the blinding white-furred tom, shocked at the deep expression and hard emotions laced within. She tilted her head ever so slightly, then turned on her side to obtain a better view of the ginger tom. He had bushy fur and pale blue eyes just like the other, but in the expression was only contempt and pure dignity. The cat with stripes was nowhere to be seen. However, she did have a quick glimpse of her sisters, Mosskit and Rainkit, before her eyelids slipped back over and she plunged back into a dream. “Mothkit lies” Mothkit plots revenge… hehe Mothkit does Word Count; 540 Tags; Silverclaw (dead), Iceclaw, Seapaw, and Fadedstripe OoC; In Erin Hunter’s world, apparently kits open their eyes once they’re born?