bruises and bitemarks

[DARK]

promote your flaws, show your mistakes
SIX FEET UNDER GROUND YOU DIG YOUR OWN GRAVE

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You could see faint pawsteps in the snow, tracking up to the top. A rogue, not content with today, flicked his tail in irritation, his face sober as always. He had just narrowly avoided a warrior, keeping to the shadows on the border, careful to not cross. He wasn't daft at that time, he knew he was spotted. Tricky Dirge was to stay away, because he escaped with only a threat to his name. He doubt anything would come of it, clan cats have always thought before they jumped. An apprentice still wet behind the ears might leap at him, but hey, what rogue couldn't defeat an apprentice?

Which brought him back to his task at hand. Maybe he could convince a little kit to join him. He smiled at the prospect, a little Dirge hoping along after him, there to do his bidding. He needed something like that, something for him to do on his off days. Unlike most parents, he wouldn't settle down with that. He would work harder and harder, to show this little kit who is boss. He chuckled to himself, unlikely that would happen. Most kits nowadays had this unheard of nationalism to their clans. They would happily die in the lines of fire for their clan. They have their little fights to make sure they are the bravest, the strongest, the one who cares the most.

He yawned to himself and laid down into the pile of snow, his brown very visible against the white. Flicking his tail, he narrowed his eyes to look out. "Oh woe is me." he cried sarcastically to himself. "Will some one not come out and save me from this boredom?"

[EMBER!]

Dappling in and out of sight, a lithe figure moved along the shadowed snow. Feathersong's mind was far from the territories, and she was not paying attention whatsoever to where her feet carried her. Wrapping up her thoughts, she regained control of her senses and started to take in her whereabouts. Icey hills, okay, that's not too far from camp. Perhaps I should hunt some... she thought to herself, sniffing deeply. Wait, what was that? An intruder? On SnowClan's territory? Surely not. Taking another deep breath, the she-cat narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and sank into the shadows. She knew her pelt helped blend her in, but not out on the open hills ahead of her. Glancing out, she spotted something brown not too far away that looked vaguely cat-shaped. So there is an intruder...well, I'll show them to mess with SnowClan!

Ears pricked, Feathersong positioned herself downwind (luckily, she was already quite close to being completely downwind of the intruder) and started stalking up slowly, making sure her paws did not make any noise in the crisp snow. She couldn't tell if the intruder was facing her or not, so it was better to walk confidently and silently up towards the brown blob. As she approached him, she figured she must be facing towards the rogue's back; otherwise she would have been long-spotted by now! Surely enough, the cat's broad brown back started to take form. Isn't this just perfect! In that case, I'll just give that ruffian a nice surprise! With a mischievous glint in her eye, she headed towards the rogue even slower until she was in pouncing distance. Feathersong coiled the muscles in her legs, preparing for a massive leap and... flew right over the other cat to land on the other side with her claws extended, hissing "Now what is a fine tom like you doing alone in hostile territory?"