Break me down and chain me up~

[[.___Paije] !]

Crunch, crunch, crunch... sound of cracking and crunching mice bones underneath large, powerful paws. Caring not of where he stepped. They were his trophies of his kills and prey. It was his job to...well, basically do what ever the heck he felt like. This was his place. He ventured out several times; and he has his own little reputation. A cat that put innocent females in danger. Snake had a mission on this earth: it was to reproduce his "elite" genes into his kittens. To have a strong earth. He believed his genes were the strongest out of all cats. That he was the only real man of this earth. His kits are to become the gods of the forest. Or...at least... he thought so. He does tend to keep a female around at least until her kits are born. More than one female in the litter? He's more than willing to kill one of them, so that the males out-number the females in the litter. If they have a small, crippled son? He's as good as dead too. Weakness is not an option in his kits. Not an option in the least.

Snake's tail lashed back and forth, eyes narrowing, the scent of this barn was rotten. With the smell of dead mice. If he killed a mouse, and wasn't hungry he'd just leave the body there alone to slowly rot and decay over time. The young tomcat stepped out of the barn-house, sunlight striking his beautiful coat of grey. Green eyes burning. He wanted something...new. Exciting. A new play toy for him to mess with. Get inside of her head and confuse her with his..."player logic". "Clan cats," he hissed lightly to himself, eyes glinting in a slight thought. "They could use my blood. They become strong cats with my blood. My blood good." he rambled, claws coming out of their sheaths and slowly poking their way into the ground, scrapping against the surface with anticipation. His thoughts racing ever so slightly. The hairs on the back of his neck standing. His body had lowered, belly fur brushing against the growing grass, prowling toward the forest. He wanted this...so bad. It was as if he was being drawn to the forest. As if his paws weren't in control... I'm coming forest...

OoC//
LOL IT SUCKS SO MUCH. DD:

[glowlynose]

Tawnywhisker's paws pounded a steady beat over FogClan territory as she raced against the wind. If any cat from her clan saw her, she knew that she would be as good as crow-food later on. She was supposed to be in camp right now doing something productive like rearranging the pebbles that had somehow appeared in a secluded area, or watching bits of dandelion fluff drift away. How dare she break the rules and venture out without asking for permission? She smirked and kept on running. Nobody would understand why she had come out today. She was meant to, and that was that.

An unusual smell found its way to Tawnywhisker's nose, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. It smelled like cat, but also... not. It smelled like crow-food, mold, and blood. The fur on her back started to rise as waves of fear rooted her to her spot. She could not imagine what kind of cat could smell like that, but she knew that who... or whatever it was could not be a good thing. So why was she lowering herself to the ground and following the scent trail?

Stop it, Tawnywhisker. You need to go back to camp and get reinforcements. Strong toms. They can help. Yes, toms can help. Try as she might to dissuade herself from her task, she was powerless to do anything besides stalk. Her instincts had completely taken over, and she found herself reliving the time when she had tracked the travelling clans, at that time one clan, through her territory. She had felt no fear of what would happen until she managed to catch a glimpse of a humonguous tabby tom. She remebered following them despite her fear of the huge cats, and suddenly she was not afraid anymore. It's probably just some poor lost kit, she mused to herself.

"Holy StarClan, that's no kit!" she breathed in shock as she rounded a corner. Standing before her was a strange tomcat; she could tell he was a tom because he was standing with his back toward her. "Oi! Just whadda you think you're doing on Clan territ'ry, you bugger?" Her voice had an odd British accent to it, making her quiet mew sound even less threatening than it should have, considering the amount of hostility she had put into it. Why doesn't he turn and face me? Sodding coward, she thought with a hiss.

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[Crowzerplorodon]

The orange and white tom that weaved himself between trees with surprising grace for his bulky size couldn’t help but think today was going to be a waste. Just like all the other days he had recently. Ever since the tom decided a break from his pack was in order and had left them his days had been long and dull. Not a single good thing had come out of his journeying and to make it worse he was lost.

Not that he would admit it, no.

Earlier that day he had caught scent of other cats though. Large groups of many cats which, quite frankly, he had never come across. The tom had spent a good hour or so sniffing the strange scent that marked what he assumed were “borders”. He could pick out many cats of all ages and genders but, as expected, none were familiar.

Curious about the scents he had followed the “border” for some time now, impressed that the strong smells never once faded or got weaker. At some point early in his walk he had notice the scent change completely, though. It was still a strong scent made of many cats of all ages and genders but something about it was different. Other cats, he assumed was one of the factors. But something about the scent of heavy mist mixed with cats gave him shivers. It was… so different from the sharp, sweet pine scents from the previous border.

To Wrench it was eviler. He was cruelly reminded of the cats that terrorized his group back home. In fact, the sudden flashes of memories had caused the tabby to take a seat away from the border. It had taken a short nap and a thorough washing of his orange and white fur before Wrench was ready to travel again.

But now, instead of the previous scent, he followed one that definitely was evil, not just similar. It smelled of blood and death, one Wrench knew all too well. His golden eyes closed as the scent grew in strength. In moments he found himself peering out from behind a thick holly bush (that would hopefully hide his own scent) and watching as a large gray tom cat crossed the “border” scents only to be haulted by a smaller, multi-colored she-cat who smelled just like the border scents, though a unique, calming one was hidden under the border scent.

Wrench wondered how the strong looking tom would react to the she-cat showing direct confrontation. Even if the she-cat was speaking quietly, she still made a full out attempt to defend the territory. The “clan” territory.

What the fox was a clan?

[[.___Paije] !]

Clan cat! Snake's mind whirled, forming that into one sentence. He could smell him...or her. He wasn't quite sure yet. The mangy tomcat took scents in, taking in the aroma of the cat that was coming to probably confront him about being on "Clan land". The scent of this new cat was sickly sweet. Soft, and smelt of Clan cats. It wasn't just any other kind of cat. But his favorite: females. Slowly, a smirk began to twist his handsome features, his tail flicking only three times. "Holy StarClan, that's no kit!" Those words came pounding into his ears, only making his slight smirk widen. "Of course I'm no kit m'dear. What other kit in this forest would look so stunning." he purred, his voice slightly raspy from the lack of use. Normally you really could never see this tomcat purr. Turning his head to the left, so that he may get a glance of this pretty little she-cat. Mm...she's a beauty. Snake thought, before his mind began to whirl again. Every thought racing through his thick skull, before just slowing down. Until he spoke again. "I believe this forest is big enough for everyone," he purred, turning around to face Tawnywhisker, his voice wasn't hostile, but yet...the look in his eyes was terrifying to a cat. "You Clan cat's don't own everything. So why do you cats bother?" he purred, tail flicking once again, three times. "Who are you calling a bugger? I'm merely a...traveler. You see miss, I have no home to call m'own. And I wander these here woods until I find myself a place to settle down for awhile, but yet the Clans chase me out every time..." he meowed, eyes narrowing and tail seeming to lower to the ground, slithering in a pattern close to a snake's, you could say. He was going to milk this situation. Until he got exactly what he wanted.

[glowlynose]

Tawnywhisker's eye twitched. Had- had he just made an attempt at conversation? Conversation with her, of all cats? She'd insulted him... in her mind at least. "Of course I'm no kit m'dear. What other kit in this forest would look so stunning." A small snort burst from her nose and she tried to contain her laughter. Yes, his pelt was well groomed where it was still present, but it still lacked the lustre of a well cared for coat.

"I dunno if ya've noticed this, but yer pelt appears ta be missin' in several spots. You could also use a good groomin'," she mewed with disdain as her gaze ran over his form several times. Yep, this bloke was certainly what she would call scruffy. Besides that, he was overly conceited and appeared to have unnatural amounts of confidence. He might not think it, but she did not miss the look of open hostility in his eyes. It very nearly matched her own, but hers had more fire in it for the simple reason that she had something to defend. He was merely a travelling vagabond.

A new scent hit her face just as she was sucking in breath to reply to another statement of this stranger's. Isn't this sodding fantastic? There's a new cat to deal with. I wouldn't be surprised if these two are allies. This brought down her spirits a bit, but she squared her shoulders and called out to the different scent. "Oi! I can small ya, ya know. Come on out 'ere 'n' stop yer skulkin'."

After a moment's thought, Tawnywhisker realized that these two cats could not possibly be allied. Their smells were completely different, despite the fact that they were both non-clan cats. While the grey tom's smell was simply evil, the other tom's scent had a more pleasant undertone to it. He did not smell of death and blood and mold, but rather of fresh air and sunlight. A cat who smelled good like that couldn't possibly be in league with a cat who smelled as absolutely revolting as the strange grey tom did.

[/center]

[Crowzerplorodon]

His face twisted slightly, an odd mix of a grimace and frown plastered over it. Wrench did not like the young tom before him. There was something about the gray cat that made Wrench want to run to the nearest stream and spend ages cleaning every single strand of fur that marked his body. A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of the tom’s voice and, against his nature, Wrench wanted to run.

He knew that type of voice. There was no venom in the words but the evil intentions that the gray tom was most likely planning were more than apparent. Only once before had he heard a voice such as that. His head shook as the memories returned and now more than ever Wrench wished he had not followed that bloody scent which led him to the cat.

And then he mentioned the clans again. Wrench’s ears pricked at the sound of the word. There had to be an explanation for the thing called a clan and perhaps one of these cats could tell him. Preferably the she-cat and not just because she was a part of a clan, apparently.

"Oi! I can small ya, ya know. Come on out 'ere 'n' stop yer skulkin'."

His golden eyes shot open at the voice directed to, obviously, him. The holly bush should have covered his scent for sure! Then again this would provide him a better opportunity to insert himself in the conversation. The she-cat only seemed determined to protect her land and the gray tom seemed like he could easily over power her.

With his tail held high the orange and white cat padded out from the holly bush, not sparing either of them a look until he crossed the thick scented “borders”. Only then did he lock eyes with the pretty she-cat, hoping to show that he wasn’t partnered with the malicious tom. ”If the lady is askin’ ya’ ta’ leave,” he grated out, fully aware that he was sounding a tad hypocritical. ”Then I suggest takin’ that leave.

[[.___Paije] !]

"Oh yes I did, m'dear. My pelt might not be the perfection cats look for. For I have different reasons why patches of fur are missing," Snake mumbled, tail slithering back and forth before setting his gaze upon the beautiful she-cat before him. "But your pelt," he began to purr, his green gaze clawing up and down. Studying Tawnywhisker. "It's simple perfection. Such beauty I would not expect out of a Clan cat." With another chuckle, he let his long, serpent-like tail brush against under her chin, only for a moment or two, until she had discovered the other cat that had been watching them the whole time. Eyes narrowing, the large tomcat had turned, looking at this new orange and white cat. Eyes narrowing slightly in distaste. "I don't believe I should leave. This ain't her land. It's some silly little Clan's land," he meowed, a raspy, deep chuckle lolling out of his mouth along with his tongue, drooping to the side slightly, small bits of saliva casually sliding off of his pink tongue, hanging slightly. Before dropping onto the ground below him. "I also believe ya don't have no room to talk either, boy. Yer a rogue too." he pointed out, ear flicking.

OoC//
Omg writer's block. D:

[glowlynose]

Tawnywhisker recoiled from the tom's touch. It had sent tingles down her body, but not the kind of tingles than she was sure he had meant to inflict. These tingles screamed at her to get away from this stranger, but she could not leave until he had left her territory. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Snake, and her claws even slipped out of their sheaths so that they shone in the sunlight.

"Ya see, mister, tha's where you be mistak'n. This 'ere territr'y belong to FogClan cats, and I be a warrior o' that clan. Now, I'd suggest that ya leave afore I'm forced ta do somethin' of the drastic type." Tawnywhisker glanced at the orange and white tom. He looked much more decent and respectable than this grey cat. Whatever his name was, he could be trusted. Perhaps he would even be interested in joining FogClan?

"Though I am flatt'red by your compliments, I must say," she mewed shyly, looking down at her paws. Perhaps despite the smell of death that hung over this gray tom, he might be okay. Perhaps he could be trusted after all.

Ooc: Urgh, fail. x.x
I gotta go, sorry it's so short and pathetic.

[/center]

[Crowzerplorodon]

”I was invited,” Wrench sneered at the larger tom. Well he sort of was, the she-cat had told him to come out from behind the bush… and that could very easily be twisted as an invitation to cross the borders. His thick tail twisted around his paws lazily as Wrench continued speaking, already fed up with this youngling.

”She’s a part of the clan, ain’t she? She can defend ‘er land all she wants ta’. And ‘sides I wouldn’t doubt that she could call fer some backup real easily.” After all a clan couldn’t just be one cat… could it? No that was absurd sounding. It was also an illogical thought—he had scented many, many cats. Not just the one.

His patience (which had been gnawed on by the presence of the tom) grew even thinner when the she-cat seemed willing to give the gray cat a chance. Wrench wasn’t too sure how skilled this pretty cat was in the art of smelling the air (she had to be pretty good if the had scented passed the holly bush) because anyone could’ve scented the plain evil scent the gray cat carried.

If this gets out of control, he wondered as the two continued to speak, what would he do? Even if the she-cat was at this obvious disadvantage he didn’t know what she was fighting for. Having her die might be the just thing for the world, even if death rarely ever was just.

Then again, she knew about the clans and Wrench wanted to know about the clans. That was a good enough reason to aid her, the orange and white tom decided. ”Names?

[Spec]

With a stiffed yawn, half out of boredom and half out of sheer absentmindedness, Thornpelt padded quietly through the foliage that surrounded and sheltered Fogclan. In recent days, things were growing a bit too mute, most likely due to the obvious void that inhabited the spot of deputy. Owlstar had not yet chosen a successor, and frankly, this knowledge left the ivory and silver pelted she-cat with foul thoughts. Impatience was a clear sign, though others would only read her face as a lack of prey, which seemed to immediately scurry into the roots of safety as she passed by. Her shoulders rocked back and forth in stride, both purposeful and aimless at once, allowing her icy blue stare to slid from bush to bush, inspecting the forest for suitable prey. Earlier, she had patrolled Fogclan territory with a couple of her comrades. Although she didn't much care for the ones Owlstar placed her with, she held it grudgingly and led her fellows to the borders. Now, she was here again, searching for any signs of intruders or a free meal. The scent was that of freshly marked territory, Starclan blessed, of course. She continued, coming to a steady halt as her tail twitched back and forth, mimicking a silent serpent in the grass. There was another scent mingling with Fogclan's. At first, she detected only Tawnywhisker, a fellow Fogclanner and obviously no threat, but would would she be doing out at the borders all alone and without a patrol to back her up, or at least one other to guard her pawfalls?

A sudden scowl darkened her image as she investigated further. Maw wrinkled aggressively, she was aware of strange stenches. They weren't of other clans, but Thornpelt knew that they were intruding upon Fogclan territory, upon the very blessed ground of Starclan. Sacrilege! In a single smooth motion, her entire body lowered slightly, claws instantly unsheathing to reveal able claws, talons to rip and tear into any invader that dare provoke her or the starry beings above them. Thornpelt's sinews rippled elegantly, sending the she-cat into a brisk lope towards the group of cats. She only showed signs of braking when the trio were in her sights. The very slits of her eyes narrowed dangerously, eying the three with obvious distaste. Tawnywhisker, she was...conversing with those filth! And not in the threatening kind of warning that should have been exploding from the she-cat's mouth either. Thornpelt would have none of that. With a brief, daggerlike hiss, she sprang at the nearest cat, the ginger bi-colored tom that possessed a unflattering stench that burned her nostrils disrespectfully. Claws outstretched, her paw arched towards the tom, barely missing his flesh by a single hair. Her action was merely to test a reaction, scare the cat senseless with retreat in toe, tail latched firmly between his legs. Throwing a curious mixture of disappointment and fury in the direction of Tawnywhisker, her tail lashed right, coming to her full height proudly, donning a mask of cold loathing towards the larger grey tom that had suspition and mistrust written all over the scarred creature, missing fur and all. The ginger tom was automatically held of the same level, obviously, she wouldn't forget him so easily. Enemies."Get out." Every fiber of her being told her to luge for the toms once more, but she held her instinct down, knowing all too well it wasn't the best idea to suddenly spring forth and expect to take down two large toms by herself. Padding painstakingly slow, she stood beside Tawnywhisker, hackles prickled offensively at their presence. Starclan does not approve. I can deal with Tawnywhisker later...Traitor.

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