M is for Murder(open)

[wisescar]

Nightrise stood still, looking past the fence into the wilderness beyond. His yellow eyes scanned from left to right, looking for any possible sign of where his brother had gone. Wisescar's scent had led him this far, but now it was very faint. Stale. Still scanning, the black tom padded onward, dipping his head under the fence as he did so. He needed to find and kill his brother. Nightrise told himself he was doing it for his father. But deep in his dark heart, he knew he was only doing it to satisfy his own blood lust. After his deed was done, he'd go back to his father and kill him too. In the same exact way he killed mother. Not only that, he'd watch too. He'd watch as the blood came pouring from his throat and onto the grass. He'd watch until his father twitched his final twitch, breathed his final breath, saw his last sight-which would be him by the way- and he'd smile once it was all over. The black tom chuckled. He was getting ahead of himself, though. First things first. Find Wisescar. Then kill him.

As he placed another paw in front of him, a crooked smile darkened his features and he began to hum a dark tune. A dark tune indeed.

[Juniper]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=height,290,true]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=5f4e4a] A young kit with a mottled tawny pelt paced just inside the SoulClan camp boundaries. She was padding along a narrow strip of pale earth that ran from the Twoleg nest and stretched all the way to Sunrise Shores. She walked alongside it, her dark umber eyes peering into the darkened horizon, which appeared to her as a hazy indigo stripe as the sun set in the opposite direction. Her eyes then scanned the nearby scenery, taking in the large, oddly formed bone-white slabs of rock and the streaks of wispy grass that accompanied them. Long-dead flowers decomposed near each, their wilted petals crushed or long ago vanished, their stalks dry and brittle. However, there still upon them lingered a faint scent of Twoleg presence, indicating that Twolegs had once handled them. But for what purpose? Mothkit gave a low yowl of impatience. She hated being confined to this dry, dull, lifeless Clan! Even her sisters did not calm her protests sometimes; they too despised the suffocating presences of the other Clan cats. Earlier, she had given a series of mewls, hoping they would win over any Warrior, but these cats seemed unaffected by any sort of desperate plea. Heartless beasts, she thought furiously. She emitted a small sigh and watched vaguely as a still bitter wind twirled the young leaves that had sprung up overnight. Newleaf was here, a long time ago, so why did the harsh winds not abate their fury? Suddenly, a silence descended upon the Clan. The previous patrol had long since departed; no stray cats milled about for the air tasted of an approaching rain. Good. Taking advantage of this lull, Mothkit darted out of camp, her small legs pumping furiously to gain momentum as she scaled a hill. She reached the peak, clambered down, and felt a chill tickle her spine. A sense of looming death embraced her. It was not her death of course, but rather the death of those she wished to grant such. Somewhere, somehow, someone was plotting murder. Or maybe it was her. Partway on her usual route that led into the heart of the AspenClan woods, Mothkit paused to stare at a lone Twoleg structure. It was wooden and long, with crisscrossing beams intended for some crazy Twoleg purpose she knew nothing about. Her paws led her to the obstruction, where she sniffed it cautiously. Various prey-scents were immediately registered, as well as a very strong smell of a cat. Must have been a loner, a FrostClan cat, or an AshClan cat for she did not recognize the scent. Odd. Mothkit hurried on, her jaws dragging as she quickly inhaled the pungent scent before it drifted away. Soon, she chanced upon her quarry, who turned out to be a soot-smudged tom with gleaming eyes the warm color of the sun. But the expression in the narrowed eyes was cold and aloof and… Vengeful. From his widened jaws cracked open into a leer, a strange growl came, almost as if he were singing. Mothkit hesitated. He was large and powerful; he could easily kill her with one swipe of his mighty claws or one incision with his thorn-sharp fangs. It was a morbid thought, but definitely a potential outcome. Be wary of him, she instructed herself. It was a primal instinct to greet strangers with suspicion, although she typically ignored that. Now she heeded it and meowed a guarded, “What Clan do you come from?” Her paws were positioned so if need be, she could take flight in an instant. And judging by his looks, she might just need to do that. “Mothkit lies” Mothkit plots revenge… hehe Mothkit does Word Count; 602 Tags; Nightrise OoC; She’s terribly bold sometimes, it’ll get her into trouble one of these days.

[wisescar]

The black tom halted his humming, hearing a small voice close by. Sounded like a kit, it did. He smiled to himself. What fun. And he wasn't being sarcastic either. The game would begin sooner than expected, and that kit...would mark the starting point. His tail lowered slowly to the ground as he turned his head toward the she-kit, his yellow eyes narrowing at her curiously. Where had she come from? Not that it mattered. Knowing where she came from would not move the game forward. It would only delay things, keep them from progressing. As for drawing the game out, that was different. The game would still be in play, but it gave him time to look things over and see how he and the participants were doing. It wasn't delaying, more like overviewing. Delaying was when the game was frozen in place. Overviewing kept it in play, but it didn't move as fast. This was common sense to Nightrise, but to any other cat, it would plague them with confusion. The only other cat that could possibly understand his ways was his brother, Wisescar. And he was the other primary player, though he didn't know it yet. All the rest, including players on his side, were expendable. The only thing that mattered, was getting to his brother, then killing him.

Nightrise craned his body and took a few paw steps toward Mothkit, a seductive smile covering his muzzle. "Clan?" he asked with a tilt of his head. "I am of no clan, young one. I am a loner. And currently, I am playing a game. Would you like to play?"

[Juniper]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=height,290,true]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=5f4e4a] The small kit was crouched among a little cluster of ferns. Motionlessly, she watched as the humming tom before her paused and twisted around. Mothkit’s short, stubby tail attempted to wind itself around a stray dandelion but wound up tearing off the pale, creamy seedlings that flew off into a gentle breeze. She had trained her dark gaze onto this ash-dark tom but out of the corner of her eye she witnessed the harmonious progression of the dandelion fluff. It was a beautiful yet melancholy sight seeing them rise into the sky and blend with the monochrome clouds. Beautiful yet morbid. Mothkit watched placidly as the older tom approached her, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. At that, she could hardly suppress a laugh of mirth. What could he be so afraid of a kit? Grinning, she raised an unsheathed paw as if to strike him. She had no intentions to of course, and she was far too young to understand that to insert any of her claws or fangs into his skin would cause her to relinquish a considerable quantity of blood before she could even draw as much as one drop from him. He had that ferocity about him which simply made her trust and respect him all the more. His manner seemed reminiscent of another accomplice of hers, a handsome and burly apprentice by the name of Seapaw. Hmm, speaking of Seapaw, was he even here? She knew he liked to patrol the borders on occasion, and they were nearly to the stretch of territory that belonged to AspenClan. For him, she had mixed emotions. She was beginning to really trust him; her faith in him had quickly replaced her quick admiration. He was comforting like kin she would never really know. Her sisters Rainkit and Mosskit seemed too distant from her at times. And she felt something more, almost like the faint, barest hints of… What did they call it nowadays, love? But it wasn’t that really, it was merely an extension of complete and absolute trust. Yet she was torn. She wished to really be with him, but she knew that at this stage (she was still trapped in SoulClan) it was dangerous for the both of them. Meanwhile, the strange-smelling tom was closer to her, and she wrinkled her nose at the exotic scent of him. From her crouched position, she scrambled up, tilting her head back as he loomed quite impressively. However, this sudden shift in position in the earth caused dust particles to float up, entering and tickling her nostrils. She sneezed violently, spraying saliva and worse onto the floor just in front of the blackened tom. Mothkit stared at it, then back at him, wondering if she dared mention that. She figured it wouldn’t matter. “You’re a looooner?” she asked, deliberately extending the term as it sounded, for some reason, quite offensive. “Oh, how you do you, loner?” she then queried, repeating (rather incorrectly) a phrase she often heard the older Warriors say. She straightened her back, resting the tips of her front paws on the grass in an effort to appear older than her age. “I am Mothkit, SoulClan but soon to be AspenClan,” she declared boastfully, despite the fact that he had not questioned her name yet. She let her dark autumn-bronzed eyes pierce his. “And you be?” She inclined her head, nodding thoughtfully, another gesture she picked up from the older cats. “Oh yes I see. Very good. Ooh, game?” she perked up brightly. Her paws danced with ecstasy. With difficulty, she stopped them from bouncing.No Mothkit! You look like an idiot, like you gotta go relieve yourself or something! she chastised herself. “Mothkit lies” Mothkit plots revenge… hehe Mothkit does Word Count; 614 Tags; Nightrise OoC; Mothkit likes pretending to be a ‘grown-up’…

[Holly]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,600,true][atrb=height,300,true]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=ffd952] A creamy she-cat padded through the borders. Her eyes detected the two cats. A tom, who looked mean, and a small kit. She laid low and down wind. The she-cat had trained to be a warrior at one point until Frostclan kicked her out. She narrowed her eyes at the thought. She changed her name to Tonks to hide her shame. The she-cat, Tonks, padded through the undergrowth. She up to the cat and kit. Her eyes narrowed at the tom. She had a soft spot for kits. She looked at the young kit, Mothkit. "Mothkit, you say your name is? Of Soulclan furture Aspenclan warrior, don't you think your far from your hom and mother dear?" Tonks smiled at the kit. She never got to raise her kits, due to them all being stillborn, because of her stress. She had the mother insticts, but no kits to care for. She wanted to help this kit and make sure this tom doesn't harm her. Tonks Doing TonksThinking "Other person's cat talking"

[wisescar]

The black cat's expression remained emotionless as he let the kit draw out his title, then chuckled as she followed it up with a question. How did he do? Well, first, he stalks a cat, then he plays with their minds, making them paranoid. And when they finally go crazy, he strikes, spilling all their blood. But that was just him answering the alternate version of that question in his head. After all, it wasn't any fun without the visuals. "I say I am doing fine," Nightrise replied in an almost friendly manner. "What of you?" He bowed his head toward the kit, just like his brother would've done, but looked up slightly, eyeing her with a sly smile.

She went on to introduce herself. The apprentice was Mothkit of SoulClan, but she was soon to be of AspenClan. There was different clans besides the one he and his brother had been in? How intriguing. Nightrise tilted his head to the side, a hint of curiousity on his face. Or was it insanity? It was hard to tell. Then she asked him his name. "Nightrise," he said in one, chilling breath. "Pleased to meet your aquaintence, Mothkit."

At the mention of the game, Mothkit seemed ecstatic. That was good. Very good. Padding over to the kit, he sat down,grinning a playful grin. But before he could bring up the details, a foreign she-cat made herself known, asking something of Mothkit. After noting her presence in the corner of his eye, he slid his gaze back to the kit and said one quiet thing. "Shhhh."