Afterlife: Hatred and Poison [OPEN]

When he had first blinked away, the grey and white tom had assumed that the stories of Starclan had just not been told properly. Instead of the beautiful and endless starry terrain, he was met with shadows and rot. His pale green eyes took a while to adjust to the lack of light. The warrior had never liked the darkness. No, not because of fear, but rather because he felt more powerful standing boldly in the light of day. Here, there was never any light. As his search for Starclan cat began and ended, he quickly realized the search was futile. A lack of a star-speckled pelt bore proof to his sins. Starclan had damned him. When it came to him, the anger began to grow. It writhed and festered at the core of the tom's soul at every, eternally waking moment. And it never left. There was nowhere for it to go. The dark forest was the perfect breeding ground for feelings of hatred, and disgust, and everything that Starclan despised. All of that was now coursing through the rejected warrior.

Slatethroat never sheathed his claws anymore. As he walked, pacing constantly, his claws scraped stone or sliced through the deadened undergrowth. Nothing lived here, nothing thrived. The ghosts of past warriors who had taken the dark path were only kept alive by the echoes of their own strongly misguided lives. They held no power that could reach the forest anymore; they hadn't for some time. Everything here was without point or purpose, rhyme or reason. It was maddening. A guttural snarl that erupted from the former Windclan cat's chest quickly turned into a furious yowl. While he knew that vocalizing the internal torment would offer him no release, he could not keep it inside any longer. His long, sharpened claws lashed out at the bark or an ever-rotting tree and his sides heaved more with frustration than anything.

As his breathing slowed slightly, the tom's pale green eyes snapped up to focus on a purely blackened sky and he rose onto his hind legs to swipe at the air. Up there, unseen, were the stars he now cursed with every fiber of his being. The words that left his maw were filled with a violent rage, themselves a powerless curse, "You star-brained cowards! All I ever did was for the good of the clan, and this is how you repay me!? I followed your stupid code almost every day of my conscious life and yet, here I am, instead of among the great warriors! I would rather eat maggot filled crowfood than to ever let your name pass from my lips again!" Venom was almost visible as it dripped from his maw. An undying hatred now raged in his pale, green gaze. They had turned their backs on him. Now, he would turn his back on them. Slatethroat waged a personal war with the forest's ancestors, and he would not rest until he one day witnessed their fall.

"Calm down."
Sunpaw slunk silently out of the undergrowth, her golden fur ruffled. She held herself high, although her small stature had many cats second-guess her strength. Her training with Lionfur and the rest of the Dark Forest cats had turned her soft heart and mind into fortresses of their own kind, and her muscles moved smoothly under her pelt. Despite her sad, decrepit look, the Dark Forest had turned her from a small, meek apprentice into a true warrior. "You'll shout yourself hoarse before Starclan lends you an ear." The small apprentice's eyes burned, but she kept her voice light. She could defeat this stranger, but no matter how great her battle prowess, she knew that her words were much, much stronger."You call them 'great warriors'," She mewed softly, sitting down a foxlength or so away from the gray and white tom. "When they're merely silly fools tricked into following their delirious ancestors. This is where the truly powerful cats survive, the ones Starclan couldn't trick. 'Great warriors' indeed."

A large figure lurked out from the shadows, scarred body looking just as bad as it always had. Since StarClan didn't even care enough to heal the cat's wounds before they were sent to eternal hell, he still had a good many to show for. 'I guess that getting killed by a monster can be just about the worst when you're going to the dark forest.' He came and sat beside Sunpaw, who was relatively new compared to himself. Here, he'd spent his every waking moment hating StarClan, hating their stupid rules and snobby ways. The few times that any StarClan cat decided to enter the dark forest, he watched with disgust from the sidelines. "Trust me, those fox-hearted fog brains are the last one you want to be with. Though it had been hard to get around at first, Fern had grown accustomed to getting around easily faster and more efficiently, and could definitely hold his own in a fight. Although he had been an apprentice when he died, he was the age of an older warrior. He'd grown to be that size too, and he wasn't going to do any more growing thanks to being sent to the Dark Forest. That didn't matter though, he had still grown to be larger than most warriors, and he towered over Sunpaw. He had grown strong and healthy despite his disability. You could see his muscles working beneath his thin orange fur, and as he settled next to Sunpaw, he looked straight into Slatethroat eyes. "You'll be better off here. I'm Fern, this is Sunpaw," He nodded to the smaller cat beside him. "Welcome to the Dark Forest. Enjoy your stay, it'll last forever." He continued to look at the new addition, studying his movements carefully.

Slatethroat turned with blazing eyes towards the apprentice that dared to interrupt him. However, instead of saying anything at first, he simply narrowed his eyes. One ear twitched in an acknowledgment of her words. His claws scored the murky earth as he took a few steps back from the tree. Could it be true that the power lay in the darkness here? The warrior ancestors were nothing but cats who believed themselves to be of importance? They had decided he was worthy to live among cats who displayed disloyal ways. There had to be some truth to it. But, he was still skeptical. All his life he had grown to admire the great warriors of his mother's tales. Were they all lies too? And where did he fit into it?

A low growl rumbled in his chest. He hated thinking. Things were supposed to be straightforward and uncomplicated. Black and white. All his life he had been guided by simplistic principles that he held to stronger than an apprentice's teeth in its first kill. The tom choaked back a smart remark as he looked over the likes of Fern. They were pathetic. Nothing more than the roadkill of life. He was supposed to be among the strong and the fierce, cats who died with honor and nothing less. The former Windclan warrior saw himself much more highly than the ragged pair that stood before him. It took a while for him to say anything. More than anything else, he longed to be away from the cats of the Dark Forest, unless they had someone magnificent to offer, an equal for him.

"Why am I here?" He finally hissed, flattening his ears. Perhaps there was some cat around here with answers, "I did nothing but strive for the best for my clan. I was a great warrior. I deserved to be with the legends. And yet, they threw me into this pit." Slatethroat spat at the ground in disgust. The pent-up rage still radiated from the dissatisfied tom.

"You want to be with the legends?" Sunpaw's green eyes turned ice-cold as she regarded the gray and white tom, arching an eyebrow. "Welcome to the Dark Forest, where the strong, brave warriors end up." The spotted apprentice stood up slowly, her claws leaving scars on the marshy ground. "You really don't wanna be here? Join us.
One day soon, we'll get our revenge on Starclan. One day soon, we'll rise above those air-brained fleabags in the clouds."
Sunpaw didn't fully believe her words, of course- not all Starclanners were too bad. Falconpaw was alright, and she missed Hawkpaw already. But she had to keep up the act. The Dark Forest was her home. She'd have to teach herself to accept it soon enough.
She barked out a harsh laugh at the tom's skeptical face. "Lies!" She purred cheerfully, her eyes dull. "All lies. Our ancestors have put on a convincing display for eons, newcomer. They've just love to put on a show for the Clan cats... all that fog and mysterious whispers. Here at the Dark Forest, we're much more straightforward."
The golden she-cat turned to Fern, a small grin growing on her face as Slatethroat looked them over, clearly unimpressed. "I think I'll let Fern answer that question, newcomer. And I'd watch your tongue. I might be merciful, but not every cat is willing to let your disrespectful words about out lovely home slide."

The large orange tom listened to the she-cat, his nicked ears flat on his head as she rambled on about the StarClan cats. He could barely even stand the thought of them, much less have a cat in his presence that wanted to be a part of them. His ears perked when he heard a specific phrase from Slatethroat. Anger boiled inside of him, rising up throughout his chest. "The Legends, you say?" The abnormally large tom chuckled lowly, narrowing his eyes at the tom in front of him. He quickly made his way towards him, until he was in his face. He used is large paw to push him to the ground, pinning him to the dark ground beneath them. He leaned down until his maw reached his ear. "You wanna be with the legends? Well, this pit is the place to be." The tom hissed lowly so that it would be nearly inaudible to Sunpaw, though he was sure she could've caught it if she wanted to. He pushed off of Slatetroat, sauntering back towards Sunpaw with a smirk on his face. He didn't even notice the constant mood swings he was having, they seemed normal to him. He defintely wouldn't let it slide.

"It sounds like you all are trying to sell this place as humane." Chortled a roughened, gurgly voice. Tail lashing as a dark-grey tom slinked from a dead tree, its branch dipping then springing back under the toms weight. Striding over to Sunpaw he glowered down at the bright yellow she-cat, he really hated how she went on and on in a monologue while trying to sound like she was trying to trade a mouse for an audience. Lip-curling the tom turned his gaze to the Ex-Windclan, his scarred brow raising. Rolling his dull green eyes he gave a little puff, "Does every cat that ends up here have to be delusional?" He snapped, making his way to the other tom.

The lean tom watched as Fern shoved the tom to the ground practically spat on the tom's face and walked away. No, no this would not do at all! "What's your name? I'm sick of Sunpaw calling cats 'newcomer'. Mouse-brained she-cat thinks she's menacing." Rockthorn always enjoyed a little banter though it wasn't all the time that he participated in it. Licking his maw and spittle-soaked chin, alongside the blood of course. When a cat had a throat wound that killed them it was bound to have one of the previous effects.

"That's a bit excessive, Fern." Rockthorn drawled before bending down in a fit of coughing, blood flying from his mouth and fizzling like steam from the ground. As if trying to clear his throat the tom straightened back up like nothing happened, brushing his paw against his bloodied, broken maw. Rockthorn drew his paw over his scarred and battered face, looking contemplatively away from the growing group.

A low growl cut through the forest, and firey amber eyes pierced the group. From the shadow's emerged from a large she-cat. "Shut up the lot of you." The smokey tabby growled as she approached the group. Of course she was talking to the three that had been in the dark forest for a long time. Smokefang had appeared despite being beaten back over and over again by the living cats she still held her form here strongly.

The bulky she-cat shoved her way past Fern and Sunpaw, her amber eyes glancing over to Rockthorn. She stood up straight and looked at Slatethroat. "Welcome to the Dark Forest Slatethroat." Of course she knew him. She watched everyone, she had encountered most of those stupid living cats. She hated all of them, and Starclan of course. They cast her out just as they had done with him. "I understand what you are going through. When I died I ended up in Starclan, but they cast me aside and threw me into the Dark Forest. But unlike Starclan where they sit and be lazy all the time, we actually can continue to live on in our own way. We train and when the time comes we can over take the weak starry cats." The dark forest queen stated to the tom, hoping it was what he wanted to hear. If not she had other ways to convince him.

As Fern pushed the former Windclan warrior to the earth, a low growl rumbled in his chest. The action had surprised him. If his focus had not been entirely on Sunpaw for that brief moment, he never would have been flattened against the earth. As the other tom stepped away, Slatethroat spat in his direction. It was humiliating to be overwhelmed by any cat. Poisonous words bubbled up behind his lips. Oh, how the grey and white tom wished to curse the others with every ounce of his body until they clearly felt his intense disdain for all that they were. But, before he could say anything, another... creature joined them.

Underneath all of the scars and mess that was his pelt, Rockthorn could hardly be called a cat. They talked of how pathetic the supposed great warriors in the star were, yet he was supposed to believe these cats held power? As much as he wanted to wrinkled his nose in disgust at the mess that was the former Thunderclan tom, nothing changed in his expression. Regardless of his distasteful appearance, Rockthorn seemed to be in agreement with the dark grey tom's speech. He found himself nodding stiffly in agreement.

A growl caused his head to snap around. The eyes. There was something familiar about them. Curiosity caused his ears to prick up. In his own gaze, the interest was obvious. Slatethroat watched her intently as she moved closer to him. There were power and command in the she-cat's voice, something that caused the corners of his mouth to twitch. For the first time since arriving in the Dark Forest, his burning anger was replaced with another feeling. It never left, merely subsided. His green gaze narrowed for a split second as she spoke. But, as soon as she was done, he allowed a more eager nod. Slatethroat liked what he heard, and what he now saw.

"Who are you?" He inquired.

OOC: hek
IC:
The apprentice bit back bitter laughter as Rockthorn stepped forward, his weak words doing nothing to divert Sunpaw's attention from Fern- she turned to the tom with a small, excited grin. She half-opened her mouth for a moment as if she was going to congratulate him on his daring, but something made her snap her mouth shut and stare straight ahead of her, the fur on her ruff raising slightly. Green eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, out of the shadows. Sunpaw's whiskers trembled. The horrid she-cat a constant reminder of the many, many moons spent in that damp, murky cave. Besides that, she was rather bossy. Normally she didn't dare to attack Sunpaw when Lionfur was around, but the golden warrior was nowhere in sight, so the spotted she-cat dutifully stepped back, her tail lashing once to show her annoyance.