You Can't Win Me, I Can't Be Beat [closed, PLOT]

The sweet, freshly blossomed stalks of heather bowed and swayed about in the early morning breeze, giving off the allusion that there was a golden sea in place of WindClan's territory.

Another powerful gust sent the sea of sweet grasses rippling fiercely all around Lichenmask, rolling onward for as far as he could lay witness. Ignoring the irksome sensation of the grass brushing and grazing against his pelt,the newly-named Warrior continued forth cautiously, unnerved by the starkness of the moorland. Although Lichenmask would never admit such a thing aloud, he couldn't help but reluctantly acknowledge the strange beauty that seemed to emanate from within the bleak territory all around him. And yet, he knew he could not dawdle any longer- after spending much of the late evening and early morning trading cruel words with Jaystar in pursuit of his own goals, he had set off towards his next target. WindClan. The flames of determination, as quiet as ever, lent him both speed and confidence. Face turning skyward and briefly reveling in the slight warmth that bled from the rapidly rising morning sun, he let out a soft hum that could almost qualify as a prayer. Sparrowleaf, lend me strength and wit. Let this work as well as it did with Jaystar.

However, before Lichenmask was given the chance to continue his silent summons, he nearly collided with the slight form of a tortoiseshell molly. The pair, both equally startled, stumbled back a pace or two while eyeing one another with mutual distrust. The young molly, clearly a young Apprentice at the eldest, was immediately out of her depth when greeted with the sight of a RiverClan Warrior deep within the heart of her Clan's territory. Perhaps Sparrowleaf was listening after all, as fate had smiled upon him. Swallowing down the urge to scoff at the Apprentice's timid demeanor, he took a slight step forward. He was half expecting to see the young tortoiseshell leap backwards in response to even the slightest of movements on his part. Seizing the moment, the young tom's features were practically dripping with a believable mixture of concern and desperation as he took a step towards the bristling young molly.

"Please, fetch me Brindlestar! It's urgent."

It was difficult not to give into that seething, frothing rage that pulsed with the consistency of sludge within Brindlestar's veins. How dare a RiverClanner approach her camp, after all they've done to her Clan?! However, the pleading and frightened stare of one of her Apprentice's was enough to draw her away from the sanctity of her many duties to investigate why a lone cat from a rival Clan had found a matter urgent enough to approach her camp. As she shouldered her way through the long-hanging thorns of the gorse barrier, she couldn't help but hope that it was a matter of the utmost importance- all so she could deny those foul water dwellers her help. As the young tortoiseshell molly pointed her in the direction of the lone tom, the pale-furred Leader's features were already twisted with her usual look of disgust as she approached the young tom who was seated before her with an infuriating amount of patience.

"Who are you," Brindlestar edged out these words in the form of an ill-tempered growl, "And why do you seek my presence?"

---

Lichenmask, who had previously found himself drawing courage from the sweet morning breeze that tugged awkwardly at his thick fur, snapped back to attention as the young Apprentice finally brought forth his next temper. It was difficult to swallow down a scowl of his own at the sight of the she-fox, but he was no fool- if he lost his cool now, he would certainly loose more than just his fur. Instead, straightening up to his full height and casting a poorly received calculating glance in the direction of Brindlestar, he cocked his head slightly. That same savage urge he had felt with Jaystar, that instinct to chase down and rid himself of a dangerous pest, seemed to burn him alive.

"I come only to share words, nothing more." Lichenmask's sweet voice was practically a purr, a hypnotic defense meant to draw in an unsuspecting victim.

Brindlestar’s features fell into a weary crease, a slight edge of reluctant curiosity evident in her hard eyes. What could a single RiverClanner wish to say? Letting out an ill-mannered growl of acknowledgement, the pale-furred molly’s defensive stance didn’t falter for a single moment as she unwittingly consented to a disastrous conversation.  Something about the young tom’s gaze unsettled her- it felt as though he could see through her in a way that not even she could do. Tail giving an apprehensive flick of uncertainty, her weight was shifted to and fro as she unhappily waited for the lone RiverClanner to speak whatever words he found so urgent that he had trekked all the way across both Clan’s territories.


Although Lichenmask couldn’t efficiently read the expression upon Brindlestar’s narrow features, he could scent the acrid scent of anxiety in the ever-moving air around them. Absently, he couldn’t help but wonder whose anxiety it was that sharpened the air. Swallowing down any remaining inhibitions that dwelled within his mind as unwelcomed visitors, the young tom inhaled a deep breath to compose himself. Straightening up to his full height, which admittedly wasn’t very tall in comparison to most adult cats, he was relieved to find that his presence was still commanding enough to hold the WindClanner’s reluctant attention.

”Tell me Brindlestar,” Lichenmask’s voice was still hypnotically captivating even in spite of his wariness, ”Do you hate RiverClan merely because of the many battles, or because of the fact that your mate holds their blood within his veins?”

For an agonizingly long moment, Brindlestar simply didn't know how to react to copious amounts of various emotions and thoughts that were immediately sent into overdrive at Lichenmask's words. At first, it felt as though somebody had poured ice within her veins- a terrible sensation of frigid disbelief became deeply entrenched within her constricted veins, which only made her heart fall into a frenzied rhythm. But... nobody knew that? How could somebody know? And then, from somewhere within the untapped reservoir of wintry fear arose a burning sense of indignation. The pale-furred molly's teeth gnashed together in outrage as she glared at Lichemask with an unsightly mixture of rage and fear. Perhaps this was just some cruel jape on Jaystar's behalf, an attempt to frighten her with some fruitless bluff. There'd be no way that RiverClan knew of such a furtive secret- after all, even Ivystar herself had learned of such a thing whenever she was dead. But what if Ivystar had passed along the same message to her fox-sired son? What if RiverClan would try to lay claim to her children due to the half-Clan blood within their veins? The scalding sense of fear that arose from the unwanted intrusive thought cooled Brindlestar's anger slightly, leaving it to simmer down to a mere frightful resignation. The thought of losing the few children she still held onto made her innards coil together in a painful spasm, one that nearly stole away her breath completely. Shoulders hunching forward warily, the pale-furred molly's glare, sobered with by the reality of the precarious situation that had befell her, settled upon Lichenmask once more with a bitter resignation. "How do you know that?" Her reluctant voice was edged with a demanding snarl, while her gaze displayed the faintest remnant of curiosity.

---

Head tilting ever so slightly, Lichenmask merely blinked at the many emotions that bled across Brindlestar's narrow features. For the briefest moment, whenever confronted with the ferocious anger that flitted across her face, he begrudgingly acknowledged the nagging fear that the WindClanner would only respond to his words by spilling blood. However, the minutely satisfying display of reluctant submission helped soothe the instinct to back away from the molly who was effectively trapped. Nose wrinkling for half a heartbeat as he eagerly awaited the Leader's words, he couldn't help but shift in anticipation. The immense sense of satisfaction, similar to the one he had felt whenever speaking to Jaystar,  was only heightened due to his negative perception of WindClan. "StarClan themselves told me." He began softly, sharp gaze remaining trained upon Brindlestar, "I'm certain you're well aware of the fact that one can never choose the circumstances of their birth, but StarClan will no longer take pity on half-Clan abominations such as you, your mate, and your kits. Change is coming, whether you like it or not." Feathery tail giving a leisurely arc, the tom's unyielding patience seemed to stand strong before the unraveling presence of Brindlestar.

---

"And you expect me to believe that your some sort of mouthpiece for StarClan now?" The contemptuous snort that hardened Brindlestar's voice didn't effectively stamp out her blatantly obvious fear. Whoever this tom was, she didn't like him. Something about the entire situation was incredibly unsettling, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't simply brush off Lichenmask's words. A niggling voice within the deep recesses of her whirling mind, insisted that the young tom was speaking the truth- no matter how painful it was. Mouth twisting into a frightened grimace, the pale-furred molly's lungs deflated at the mere nod Lichenmask offered in return to her anger-fueled statement. Apprehensively shifting her weight to and fro, her pale gaze narrowed once more as she continued to gaze upon the young RiverClanner. It would be so easy to simply strike him down right here- to get rid of the problem now, before it worsened to extremes that she couldn't deal with by her lonesome. However, instead of lashing out like she so desired to, Brindlestar merely let out a faint hiss, "What do you want with this? With me?"

---

Instead of exhaling another long-winded and cryptic spiel aimed at unsettling the molly even more, Lichenmask instead rose to his paws and retreated a pace or two, expression wholly unreadable. Slender paws hardly making a single sound against the compact, and dust laden earth of the moorland, the young tom withdrew away from the bristling Leader. Now that he was certain that he held her unwavering attention, he felt secure enough to proceed with his next set of actions. Contentedly whisking along several paces in the direction adjacent to where he had first arrived from, the young tom only twisted around to gaze back at the WindClanner for a brief heartbeat, a faint note of smugness sweetening his soft voice. "For now, I want nothing from you but your attention. So long as you agree to come to Fourtrees two sunrises from this meeting with your Deputy and Medicine Cat, I'll keep this little secret between us. If you fail to do so, I'll make sure RiverClan comes to retrieve what belongs to them by blood."

Breaking out into a smooth run, Lichenmask's slender form was quickly swallowed up by the rolling hills of the moorland as he swiftly departed the territory, wholly intent on reaching ThunderClan's territory before sunhigh.