Darkness Before the Dawn [Dawnhawk]

Eos sprawled at the edge of Asylum's scout quarters, scout-trained eyes idly watching the comings and goings of cats coming back for a break, or leaving for the conquered territories. Eos herself had left a quiet, calm Riverclan, though of course there was tension lurking just beneath the surface. She had faith that her fellow scouts would be able to hold things down just fine, however, and it felt nice be to on familiar, solid ground once more.

The white hare pelt across her shoulders was warm, though it didn't quite take the chill out of the increasingly-cold winds that blew as leafbare approached. The large tree marking the scout nests from the rest of Asylum's camp didn't provide much in the way of shelter, but then, her nest was so often unused it went unnoticed half the time.

With a huff, Eos stood and stretched. Asylum's camp was unusually quiet, most cats were out among the newly colonized territories, and perhaps it was time she went back to Riverclan's territory as well.

Dawnhawk had medium sized fur at least, so the chill in the air didn't get to him quite as much as short-furred cats. Still, he preferred to be completely warm, not just sort of. He approached the Asylum camp wearing the pelt of One-Ear, mostly as another layer to keep the cold winds from chilling him to the bone. The fox pelt actually served him quite well and the fur on his paws was enough to keep them warm while he traveled. He glanced around for Theron or Eris, but seeing neither of them, he was content to wait until he did. Noticing the she-cat with the white hare pelt, but thinking nothing of her, he sat down an appropriate distance from the Nightstriker's headquarters. Two Nightstrikers and a pelt ward were coming his way, though he didn't think he recognized any of them. One wore a badger and the other a dog.

"Yeah there was a pretty gold she-cat in the infirmary... or what do these savages call it? A medicine den!" The one wearing the dog was saying as they ventured closer to Dawnhawk. He was a bit taller than Dawnhawk but looked lankier than a typical Nightstriker. He was a silver tabby with amber eyes... or at least that was what he appeared to be. Dawnhawk had a hard time knowing for sure under the pelts. The one wearing the badger was entirely black except for one white foot. His eyes were a burnt orange color. Despite seeing them closer, Dawnhawk still couldn't place their faces or voices in his memory bank.

"Oh... really?" The black cat answered back, sounding bored.

"Oh yeah! She had a hurt shoulder or something though so she wasn't a problem." The silver tabby purred. Dawnhawk's ears pricked forward and his eyes bore holes into the silver tabby. Was he talking about Primroselight? He couldn't place these two... that whole night had been a blur. "Maybe I'll knock out the medicine cat and pay that pretty thing a visit." His eyes were sinister and his tail lashed excitedly. Dawnhawk's fur bristled and his claws pierced the dirt beneath his toes.

"You wouldn't be talking about Skyclan, would you?" He asked the silver tabby, barely managing to keep the growl out of his voice. The two nightstrikers stopped and stared at him, neither of them impressed. Their pelt ward was a tiny cat wearing a black and tan rabbit skin. As if nothing was happening, he suddenly skittered over to Dawnhawk and started fixing his fox pelt. The pale tom kept his eyes on the silver tabby while the aggravating little pelt ward furiously worked to make One-Ear's skin look pristine.

"That's the one. Why?" The nightstriker answered. Dawnhawk's eyes flicked to the two ragged slash marks on his cheek. He looked to the black tom's cheek as well, again seeing only two slashes. Dawnhawk gave them a half-smile, but there was nothing friendly or warm about it. Before he could speak, the black tom suddenly realized who he was and his eyes widened a bit, though when he spoke, his voice sounded just as bored as it did a moment ago.

"You're Dawnhawk..."

"I am." Dawnhawk approached the two of them, closing the gap that had been there to half a fox-length. The silver tabby's eyes lit up with excitement rather than fear as the black tom's had. A huge smile spread across his face and his tail whipped back and forth excitedly. The dog pelt he was wearing was quite fitting for him.

"You know that pretty she-cat then? Is she single? Not that that's ever stopped me before." He cackled, an annoying noise that actually had Dawnhawk's ears rotate back as if he had been spat at.

"Yes. She's my sister. The medicine cat is too." Upon finishing his words, the silver tabby finally understood and his excitement died nearly instantly. There was a tense, uncomfortable silence between the three before the black tom spoke up.

"Easy there, savage. You're one of us now." The black tom reminded him. Dawnhawk chuckled, though there was a hint of a growl in it.

"This savage outranks you both." Dawnhawk tilted his head down to show them the three upside-down chevron-shaped slashes on One-Ear's right cheek. He hadn't let the nightstrikers brand his rank on his face, as he had argued that the less he looked like them, the easier it would be to convert his clan members as he went. His rank was instead placed on his fox pelt. "And I forbid you from going anywhere near the medicine den. We are not to cause trouble if we want them to become part of the Asylum. I'm sure Eris made those orders clear to you." He watched with barely contained glee when the disgust slithered across their faces. They finally, with tense jaws and piercing stares, nodded their confirmation of their orders and pivoted on their heel to leave. The pelt ward had just got done maintaining the fox pelt and skittered off into the darkness. He didn't follow the nightstrikers.

What a weird, tiny cat... he's no bigger than an apprentice. With that, Dawnhawk sighed and sat back down, forgetting that the she-cat was even there. He stared at his paws... shaking from the anticipation of a possible fight. He may have betrayed his clan and was trying to kill Starclan, but if anyone hurt Primroselight, he'd forsake everything he'd accomplished thus far to tear their eyes and ears from their heads.

Eos had thought she'd go on back to Riverclan, but the sound of voices made the scout's head turn. Two nightstrikers, a pelt ward... and one of the clan cats that had already been converted to Asylum's cause.

Absently, the calico licked a paw, outwardly seeming to dismiss the chat entirely in favor of washing her face. She was trained enough in the art of multitasking that she still easily picked up on the conversation while her focus appeared elsewhere.

So the convert had a sister, or two rather... Eos filed that tidbit of information away for later, noting how he mentioned that the second sister was also one of the clans' prized medicine cats.

A low chuckle escaped Eos as the nightstrikers slunk off, probably to sulk at the convert -- Dawnhawk -- pulling rank on them. Sulking and fighting was what the nightstrikers were best at, it seemed. Sighing, Eos carefully stretched, then stood.

"Yet they'll be the first to not understand why there is resistance when we attempt to improve the lives of others." Eos allowed derision to creep into her tone as she spoke. "I know I wouldn't want that lot eyeing my siblings, either."

"My name is Eosphoros, though most call me Eos." She said by way of introduction, giving the tom in the fox pelt the smallest inclination of her head.

Dawnhawk had not been expecting conversation after that. His anger melted away slowly with a turn of his head and his eyes settled on the she-cat that he had forgotten was there. He snorted at her comment. She was right of course... no one was happy to join groups that tormented them. Dawnhawk certainly wasn't, which was why he felt no real loyalty to his clan. Maybe if they had forsaken the laws of Starclan rather than cling to it like fools, they wouldn't be in the position they were in. Dawnhawk would have fought alongside Bloodstrike rather than more or less sucker-punched the larger cat to his doom.

"I really don't know why I'm a nightstriker. They're difficult to relate to unless we're talking with claws." Dawnhawk had a lot more to offer than his claws, though they were plenty sharp and lethally accurate when he needed them to be. Still, he shrugged. This was where he was and he wasn't going to complain now.

"Eosphoros flows from the mouth quite smoothly. I like it. Though hanging out with this bunch I can understand why they wouldn't appreciate it and would shorten it." He nearly rolled his eyes, but he held a smirk for her. She was more interesting than most nightstrikers he talked to. When they weren't cowering at his shadow, they were sneering behind his back about how he was a "savage". He'd never say this out loud, but he had more respect for the clan cats in that regard. Before all of this, they would have insulted him to his face or said nothing at all. Was this what having power was supposed to be like? If they didn't fear you they would mutter their grievances in the dark and supposedly out of earshot? Cowards... nightstrikers... clan cats... all of them.

"You already know I'm Dawnhawk. I'm wondering if I should change my name to something more fitting for the Asylum, but I doubt it would change my position much." He looked over the hare pelt around her shoulders and noted her shorter fur. She had to be fairly cold. The thought crossed his mind to offer her his fox pelt for at least the time that they were out here. Would that insult her? Would it insult the superiors? He meant well, but he was still fairly new to how the Asylum operated. He'd wait for now, but if she seemed too uncomfortable he'd say to heck with it and let her borrow One-Ear for awhile.

"Tsk. There is a reason that scouts have better luck when it comes to convincing others of intentions. You can make your point with claws and bloodshed, but you won't be respected for it. Fear will breed resentment eventually, and then the conquered dig their heels in and get stubborn. Allowing others to assimilate naturally to your cause might take longer, but mutual respect can carry that goal far better. But you didn't come here to listen to me lecture." It had been some time since Eos had gotten the chance to lecture someone, though she offered a mildly apologetic smile. In truth, the nightstrikers needed to hear that lecture more, but Dawnhawk seemed to be more reasonable than most of them.

"It means 'dawn-bringer,' though most would scoff at it." Eos shrugged. Her face heated slightly at the compliment however, she was far more used to complaints of what a mouthful it was, or cats who were like that Riverclan apprentice who did not understand the meaning that names could hold.

"Names carry significance, meaning. They can tell a lot about someone. Is that not how the clans choose many of their warrior names?" Eos tipped her head to look up at him curiously.

Dawnhawk couldn't agree more with Eos. Beating other cats senseless wasn't a new thing for him and he knew how easy it was in general to do. Ultimately it only proved one thing and that was that someone was more skilled with claws and teeth than the other. It didn't prove someone was right or wrong and most of the time it didn't have the power to sway cats to agree with you more than verbally out of fear of being hurt again. He had found words to be far better weapons, besting even Redfall when Dawnhawk was just a kit and Redfall a fairly seasoned warrior. Even now, Redfall couldn't keep up with Dawnhawk verbally or with his wit... but Dawn wasn't entirely sure he'd want to go toe-to-toe with Redfall just yet. Eventually though, he knew it would come.

"Dawn-bringer?" He looked at her and smirked, but it was far from condescending. "How ironic would that have been if you had recruited me instead of Iniko?" The thought got a chuckle out of him. She was smart... the way she thought about things was very similar to himself. His tail tip twitched as he sat there, thinking.

"I think I was called Dawnkit because I was brightly colored. When we're born we all have the same suffix, which is -kit. It's our baby name. When we become apprentices, that suffix is changed to -paw. The name we all wait for is our adult name... and it's a name that we earn from our leaders through our actions or our personality. I think my leader at the time named me -hawk because of the way I hunt. I sit at the top of a tree until prey comes within range and I drop down on it, but look at me. With fur this bright I can't hide in the shadows. I put the sun at my back so that even if prey looks directly at me, they're blind. The tree-hunting was a necessity for that strategy..." Or maybe he was called -hawk because raptor means "to seize", which Dawnhawk had already proven that he most certainly does. It was something he had thought briefly about before but not in great detail... and now the only cat that could have answered his question as to why his name had been chosen was gone.

"You probably knew some of that already. You've been around the clans I presume?"

Eos' lips curved into a faint smirk of her own at his response. At least there was one among the clan-born who would appreciate the meaning behind the name.

She listened the the explanation of his own name. It was fitting, if somewhat simplistic. From what she could make out of the silvery and gold fur beneath the scarred fox pelt, 'dawn' was certainly fitting.

"Riverclan, though I've yet to see a warrior ceremony." Eos admitted. She was curious to see one for herself, learning the customs of the conquered ones wasn't a bad thing, much as some of the nightstrikers might scorn the scout's curiosity.

"Names based on some aspect of appearance isn't uncommon, though the traditions of your clans are certainly different. Most of us loners or rogues, as the clan cats like to call us, are named from birth, and that's usually the end of it, there are no leaders to give us a second name of their choosing alongside what our parents named us. Still, others choose their own names, dissatisfied with what was chosen for them. Sometimes what was originally chosen no longer fits the cat they become, or brings up a bad memory. There is little point in going by something you don't wish to be called any longer, though it seems like the clans don't allow for such freedoms of personal expression."

Hmm. Interesting fact about Riverclan... why weren't they doing warrior ceremonies? They had been colonized for awhile at this point. He logged that information away for later in case he needed it. Maybe he'd visit Riverclan in the future and see why the delay. Were their apprentices that incompetent? Was Ivystar an absentee leader? Questions that he wanted answers to, and soon.

"The only thing that matters to clan cats is their clan... at least that's what you're supposed to care about. Not allowed to do anything that might upset the balance of the clan. No mates outside of your clan either. Skyclan is especially pig-headed when it comes to that and no accepting outsiders. Almost all of the females in my clan I'm related to, so that logic is working flawlessly." He rolled his eyes, his tone drenched in sarcasm. A bitter cold wind whipped by. It was enough that even he tried to tuck his toes lower into the ground to keep them warm, to no avail of course.

His eyes once again went to the hare pelt on the short-furred she-cat. She had proved to be entertaining company so far... he supposed she was worth the possible frostbite on his hind-end. Dawnhawk wiggled his way out of One-Ear's skin and held the front of the head between his teeth.

"Here." He offered, though if she didn't want it, he wouldn't push it. He held it up high enough that if she wanted to step into it easily, she would be able to. He would take it back from her before he left, but for now, he would handle the cold with only the medium-length fur on his back.

"Nobody is meant to be so insular that they can never meet others outside of family." That's how you wind up with cats born with extra toes, or stunted mental capacity, she almost added, though Eosphoros didn't bother to hide the disapproval from her tone. Given the state of most of the pelt wards, it wouldn't be surprising if many of them had been from such insular, isolationist communities as well. She didn't say it out loud, but...

An icy gust of wind made her shiver, despite the extra warmth of the hare pelt across her shoulders. Eos calico fur was short, and thinner, more suited for a warm climate with trees and foliage blocking such harsh winds.

Dawnhawk offered her his fox pelt, which was quite a bit larger and fluffier than her own hare pelt despite the scars marring it. Eos gratefully burrowed herself into it while still wearing the hare pelt. That was warmer.

"Thank you. I'm... not used to this level of cold, or wind." She admitted. "I would hate to be stationed out on the moors with this sort of wind. Winter- leafbare, was milder where I was born." And the cold season wasn't quite upon them yet. Eos wasn't so sure she was looking forward to what it might bring. She'd encountered snow and didn't like it much, she wasn't sure if she could deal with snow and this bitterly cold wind at the same time.

At the thought of leaf-bare out on the open moor, Dawnhawk visibly shuddered. He was no fan of the wind. Some amount of cold he could tolerate, as well as some amount of heat. His medium-length fur gave him some advantages in more mild weather of both hot and cold, but he still wasn't able to withstand either extreme very easily. "This will be my first leaf-bare. I'm not sure I like it." He admitted. "Where did you come from? You've seen the clans, at least Riverclan so you have a fairly good idea of what my life has been like. What was yours like? Did the Asylum take over your home or were you part of it when you were born? Your story is probably far more interesting than mine."

He glanced around very quickly for anyone of authority. Seeing no one still, his attention was back on Eos. If Eris and Theron had been caught up in other matters for now, it was no bother. Talking to this scout had proved to be entertaining. They way she moved her head cast a perfect amount of shadow and moonlight up on her face. The fox pelt covered only a tiny bit of her in a certain light... and something about it made him stare.

She's... pretty. He thought to himself, hoping to etch that image of her in his mind forever. A perfect balance of dark and light over a beautiful she-cat's face. There was something poetic about it.

Something pure.

The fox pelt had her shivering less, though the chill was still enough to make Eos tuck her paws beneath her as she listened to the clan-born convert speak. He seemed more open-minded than most, which wasn't going unappreciated. The name 'dawn' had certainly been fitting, Eos noted as she took in the soft gold and silver of his pelt that had been more hidden by the fox pelt. Handsome, a part of her said, and it was the truth.

"Asylum took over our lands when I wasn't much younger than the age your clans start training apprentices. We were more of a peaceful sort, and there was little resistance. My brother Casper and I became scouts and started traveling with the Asylum quickly enough, it satisfies my curiosity and wanderlust, I suppose. My other brother became a nightstriker, Dragon was always the more rebellious of us." Eos' lips twitched up into a smile at the thought. Her brother enjoyed fighting, and the role suited him.

"What territory we once had was varied just as the clan territories are, but I haven't been back in moons. My paws itch for staying in one place for so long, though." Riverclan territory was livable, of course, but there was only so much time one could spend exploring a single territory. Eos ached to wander, to meet new faces and see more than the insular clans could offer. After the clans had finally learned to co-exist with the Asylum, maybe Eris would send her out once more, but for now she'd remain and do her duty.