by yeeee. » Mon Sep 07, 2015 12:00 am
{@ skulls - Creepy ;A; but fitting! Disturbingly fitting XP}
Batpaw was sick with rage - a saying he'd heard once, from one he hated more than the Dark Forest itself, but he remembered it very well. This feeling of helplessness, the feeling of being cornered - the feeling of being at his most dangerous, but also being at his zenith. A cornered animal. Those were the three words that he was feeling. Every word felt like a stab in the face, more painful and turning than the last. The ebony tom felt his lips began to tremble, but no word would surface; they all died in his throat. Every word was right. Every single one of them, Batpaw knew. He had whimpered, he had cried, and not just now. In the most important moments of his life, he had, and everyone had suffered the ultimate price for it. Now was just a smaller replication of that, but founded on the same basis - his helplessness. The tall tom felt a lump form in his throat, and he felt himself stagger backwards a bit. A soft mew started in his chest, but died as well. It took a few more seconds for the cornered animal, backed into the wall with no hopes but to charge forward, to lash out with all of the pain held within.
"Of course you are - it's sad that your ignorance blinds you," Batpaw hissed, knowing his slate eyes were even glassier than normal - of course, eyes were the windows to the soul. His were just shadowed slightly, but not anymore. He knew the pain reflected, but he had a good mind to dish out more pain to his tormentor. "A true warrior doesn't treat his family like that." Forcing himself to cut off then, Batpaw began to speak, slower this time. "I am may be weak now, but I am not pathetic. There is a big difference there. Pathetic is a miserable kitten than lays there crying the whole time, not one that gets up and knocks the imbecile that did it on their tail," The petite tom couldn't keep his voice from quavering more, but at the same time, it had taken on a deadly edge. "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. I'll learn from this spar, and one day I will be a warrior - one day soon. My success will speak for me," Batpaw said, before letting the curses rip like he never had before. "And then you can go drown yourself and I'll spit on your corpse to help send you on your way to the Dark Forest," Batpaw snarled in true rogue fashion, knowing that if by Starclan's maw any cat heard him talking like that, he was dead. But he couldn't stop, he couldn't let Hawkcry completely and utterly defeat him, break him down to the pathetic bundle of ebony fur that had arrived at the border so long ago, completely helpless.
As Batpaw stopped to breath finally, tiny sides heaving, injured cheek burning, and he heard Scorchstar. The petite tom froze - how much had the leader heard and seen? Before hanging his head, gasping for breath, but his breaths more rasp and hoarse. What could he possibly say to keep himself from being grounded for eternity? The truth, of course. But would Scorchstar believe him, over his own apprentice, over such a powerful warrior? Batpaw doubted it. Feeling even sicker than he had in moons, the petite apprentice spoke, his soft voice so low it had to strain to be heard. "After pinning me to win the spar match, Hawkcry struck me across the cheek with his claws. I didn't do anything to taunt him or anger him..." Batpaw whispered, trailing off, still trying to swallow the fact that the leader of the entire clan was ready to kill him, and the fact that his ceremony was indeed late. Why him? Was he really that much of a burden to his clan, that must of the same cat that had let his family die once before? His long legs gave out, finally plopping him on his rear. Still breathing, hoarse and ragged, Batpaw awaited his sentence.
Tagged ;; Scorchstar, Hawkcry
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That was quick. Snow eyed the young tom now known as Thorn, half-expected a sneak attack, half-expecting the game of wits. But nothing. It took the older tom a moment to realize that ever since the run in with the clan cats, he'd been on edge. Much more than he cared to admit. After a moment, the pearl tom shrugged slightly in a careless manner. Earlier, he was concerned about spreading his name, but now? It wasn't worth it. Not at all. "Snow," the older tomcat mewed, padding deeper into the roomy den, his baby blue eyes roving ever inch of the space. Inwardly, he hoped the younger cat wouldn't inquire about his peculiar name, but he didn't really reflect it - his body language, aptly put, was relaxed and carefree. So different from what he felt, so very different. But he was good at hiding his emotions - or so he'd been told. Flickering the tip of his feathery tail, he gently touched the tip of Thorn's flank, the small smile on his lips twitching slightly.
"That's request I can take you up on," the older tomcat stated in a cheerful voice, pushing the fish over before padding deeper into the den, seeking out a nice place to rest. Unfortunately, he hadn't had any time to gather moss, but it was still better than sleep outside where he was easy prey. Finally selecting a shady place far away from Thorn's nest, Snow laid down and wrapped his tail over his forelegs, but didn't lower his head. Not yet. Letting his baby blue eyes wandering to the purple and red hues bleed across the sky, Snow kept that smile lingering on his face, wondering when Thorn would rest so he could go for a... walk.
Tagged ;; Thorn
