Trespassers will be skinned and eaten [CLAIM]

Klaus honestly had had enough of random stray cats waltzing into this place uninvited. He had half a mind to start skinning those who were so bold, or so stupid, to try to ignore their scents and claim this place as home. Most days Klaus was emotionally stable, but today even the most clueless of cats could tell he was in a mood. He sprayed the area surrounding the camp, even purposely forgoing water here and there to make his scent extra potent. His fur was slightly bristled, spiked along the back of his neck, as he clawed the cat equivalent of his initials into the old tree. Along the entrances to the dens he rubbed the scent glands on his face on rocks, brush, anything that would hold a scent even temporarily. There were clumps of gold and white fur all over where he had been as the last of his greenleaf coat was shed from his body.

"There!" He spat after he was satisfied with his work. "Is this enough of a hint for you foxing idiots?!" He yowled, hoping any stray cat nearby would hear him. "I will start killing them Tarot... I swear I will. I'll skin them and you can have them for lunch for all I care!" His tail lashed as his yowls echoed out from the camp that they were claiming as home. He scampered up into the tree and watched for anyone who would be dumb enough to oppose them. "Come traipsing into my camp again and I'll be wearing you to the next gathering!" He yowled again at what... may or may not have been a rogue cat darting behind bushes to make their retreat. He didn't know, he didn't care. This was his place! His and Tarot's! The only ones allowed were the ones they themselves invited and no one else!

Klaus has claimed this area. Waiting on Tarot to help him claim as well and they will live here together.

OOC: My first territory claim on WCC! Staff tell me if something needs to be fixed!

Tarot idly trailed behind Klaus as the enraged rogue marked the territory, adding his own scents on top or near the pale tom's. Spraying here, clawing there, rubbing against rocks and bushes to help reinforce their claim. The loner didn't often settle in places enough to mark them as his territory, being rather nomadic for a cat, but he had before, it was nothing new to him.

When it was too exhausting to wander during the cold winters he'd stake claims, and any who dared wander into his territory never left, because he killed or ate them.

Tarot let the ex-clan cat do the yowling, his raging caterwauls would be enough for anyone to rethink entering their land. In the meantime the sleek, silken-furred loner really rubbed his scent into the base of Klaus's favourite tree, tail lashing then shifting into a gentle curl over his back.

He waited for his companion to finish screeching at a possible lurking rogue before answering the comment that had been directed to him. Passively, the purple-eyed tom dragged his claws through the exposed roots of the tree.

"Wherefore restrain yourself in the first place? Whenev'r I've hadst to stake a claimeth, any yond trespass'd nev'r cameth out alive. I oft hath used their skulls to marketh the area as well. 'T maketh f'r an effective deterrent to any bethinking about crossing into mine own t'rrit'ry." He glanced up at his companion, and crouched, launching himself into the tree as well. The loner soon settled onto a branch lower than Klaus's, lounging in the light of leaf-fall's sun.

"By thy w'rd I'll striketh down any who is't crosseth onto our lands and useth their skulls as warnings aft'r I've hadst mine own filleth." The loner stated, stretching and dragging his claws along the branch he perched on.

The loner twisted, grooming his pelt of any burrs or leaves tangled in his pelt after the trek through their territory, his tail laxly twitching. He supposed he'd have to make rounds through their claim to reinforce their scent markers now, a mild hassle, but this was his home for the duration of his stay in the forest. It'd do no good to constantly have other loners and rogues traipsing through their lands.

Even if those trespassers would make good meals.

Klaus sat atop the tree branch, tail lashing. As his companion spoke to him, he drew in a long sigh. He was beginning to agree whole-heartedly with the cannibal.... was that bad? Whatever, what did he care? To whose standards did he need to live up to in this world? The very idea of morality was subject to change at the drop of a leaf anyway and varied from individual to individual. It was nothing but a lie, an illusion, a way to control those with less ability to actually think for themselves.

"Because, my friend, I was trying to keep a lower profile. But thanks to literally everyone in this forest I no longer have that option. I might as well murder on a whim and suck the bone marrow from my fallen foes. I might as well just be the monster that everyone swears that I am." Okay, even he knew he was starting to sound whiny, but today was just a day that he was going to do that. To the Dark Forest what anyone thought. He was entitled to feel like carrion once in a while.

"Should I start wearing kit pelts around my paws? Should I put kitten jaw bones around the outside of our territory? I'm beginning to think I may as well." He paused and took a breath, trying to calm himself down a little. That incident at the river had him absolutely riled.

"If you want to line the outskirts of our markings with bodies, feel free. I don't care what you do." He didn't want to say it out loud, but the time where Tarot was, understandably, out and about doing his own thing, the loneliness was almost too much to bare. Klaus had always had at least a few cats to interact with... and as good as he was at fighting and killing, it was all he'd been doing lately. Maybe it was finally starting to get to him.

There were two consistent, good cats in his world, one being Tarot and the other being Waterlily. She was stuck in Thunderclan and had no clue who he really was... how long until she found out who he was and disowned him? How long until Tarot decided he was boring and decided to chew his toes off in the night?

Klaus stopped himself right there. He knew he wasn't being rational... he knew he needed to calm down. But he didn't want to.

The loner rose a brow at the next mini-rant his companion gave, pausing in grooming his pelt and glancing up. After a moment, he pulled the bit of his pink tongue that was sticking out back into his mouth and ran it over his whiskers. Klaus was in quite the mood today, he wondered why. Obviously, it wasn't just about the trespassers.

Of course, Tarot wouldn't prod. One thing he was good at was listening, and his responses were usually wholly neutral in situations like this. "I wonneth't stand ho thee if 't be true thee wanteth to start a new fashion trend." His tone was sprinkled with a light dusting of humour as he said this, "P'rsonally though, I bethink kit pelts and jawbones wouldst beest quite cumb'rsome to mine own stealth tactics."

Yawning the loner stretched, shifting into a more comfortable position on the branch. He'd take the go-ahead to use his skull-marking strategy at face value.

"Well, if 't be true any stray cats still stepeth paw into our t'rrit'ry despite our markings while I'm h're, thee'll has't nay needeth to w'rry. Those gents won't liveth to did spread rum'rs about our lodgings." He purred laxly, despite the contents of his words. The sun was really quite nice that day, perfect for some good ol' sunbathing.

Klaus's limbs physically slumped on either side of the branch when Tarot's reply came. You're not actually supposed to just be okay with me killing kits... But he only listened anyway. It was a nice refresher from the constant crying reminder from everyone ever in the world about how he slammed Featherkit against a wall until her bones broke and her body along with it. That was moons ago. He hadn't killed a kit since. Maybe an apprentice... but it still wasn't a kit. I guess I could always start snatching them up and doing away with them. For only a moment he felt dirty for thinking such a thing, but an instant later he remembered that the forest had apparently declared war on him already. He was simply fighting back at this point.

To the Dark Forest with Skyclan, Windclan and Riverclan for sure. He imagined it was only a matter of time before Thunderclan and Shadowclan joined the "lets kill Dawnhawk because he's an irredeemable monster with no feelings or soul" party. I could have started over... I wanted to. But the clans just won't let me. They are creating the monster they think that I am. His tail lashed once more.

"It would definitely send a message. You can kill whoever you want. Anyone who comes here uninvited is as good as food. Tornshadow is my daughter... one of several, but she has no clan smell on her and she looks like me. I'll only allow her and no one else. Give Dawnfeather, my niece, a fair warning to leave before you hurt her, but anyone else... kill them."

He was done. He didn't even want Ashfall around at this point. She already made it clear she'd rather hunt him down too than side with him, all because of things he'd done that he couldn't change. She'd clearly forgotten how he taught her to hunt and fight, even took a fox bite to the leg for her. But none of that mattered now, apparently. She could fox off for all he cared.

The reaction to his reply about the kit pelts and bones made him pointedly wear a brow, as if saying, 'you should've expected that, this is me we're talking about'. The first time he had met Klaus he had explicitly stated that he was the wrong cat to turn to for judging the rogue's moral decisions, or even reacting to them.

Really the only reason he'd ever judge Klaus is if the rouge got assistance from his meddling ghostly ancestors who thought of themselves as masters over nature itself.

The loner then paused, thinking about what he'd do if that ever happened. His gaze grew distant with pondering. Would he actually loath the rogue like he loathed clan leaders?... Perhaps... hm.

After a moment a bit of surprise filled him. No, he didn't think he'd full-on despise the pale cat for such a thing. He supposed it'd just be like... a trait he'd dislike about the rogue. Which wasn't really something that would be unusual. From what he's observed, if you build a relationship with someone it doesn't mean that someone would have to be a perfect fit, no, it means that you liked someone despite their flaws.

At least that's what he noticed when witnessing such relationships, platonic or otherwise. After all, if the rogue ever did get assistance from meddlesome ancestors it didn't erase the fact that the tom had been a rather faithful ally thus far. That would perhaps only change if the tom betrayed him completely and utterly, perhaps then he'd loath the tom.

Though that didn't mean they wouldn't butt heads in the future, that was also commonplace in partnerships or allyships he had witnessed between cats. It'd be hard for the rogue to actually full-on anger him enough to the point of conflict though. It was very hard to ruffle this loner's fur.

Tarot snapped out of his musings as his companion addressed him again, seeming to have cooled off at the moment. What the icy-eyed tom said brought a slight smirk to the loner's muzzle.


"V'ry well, I'll beest sure to keepeth an eye out f'r thy kin then." Hopefully his hunger would be sated as a result. If not though he'd just hunt for his favoured prey, as per usual.

Several moments of silence passed between the two toms. It didn't seem like anyone was coming to challenge their claim. What a pity. He could use a a new scratching post. After he managed to calm himself, he looked back down at Tarot. The other tom had been grooming, calm as a sleeping snake. Klaus himself took a deep breath. He was sure his companion noticed his nasty mood, but had chosen to say nothing.

"I apologize for being so emotional earlier." He began, though he hadn't snapped at Tarot or anything of the sort. He still felt like it was something he needed to apologize for. While he liked Tarot and saw him as... well probably a friend, they had never had any real heart to heart conversations that would indicate anything beyond a professional relationship. Emotions had no place in such relationships.

"Riverclan's leader is dead. I tore out her throat and then I trapped her beneath a log so she would drown until she had no lives left. She..." His claws scraped against the bark, loosing a few pieces from their place and sent them to the floor below. What was he going to tell Tarot? That for just a brief moment she made him feel the same way he had when he was an apprentice and Smokefeather pummeled him for fighting with Beechpaw? That he felt a similar sense of surprise and betrayal by the way she spoke to him? That for just a brief moment he almost saw Smokefeather standing there instead of her?

"She was loved by her clan so... be wary of Riverclan cats. I didn't cover my scent before I left. Definitely let me know if any of them come here. They smell like fish and their fur is sleek. You can't mistake them for any other clan cat."

No. He couldn't quite open up to Tarot that much yet. Too much of his already wounded soul would be shown, and while the lone cat hadn't given him a reason to be wary or think he may only wound it deeper, Klaus didn't want to take the chance. He'd had enough for one day. He looked to the side, turning his face mostly away from Tarot's line of sight. His eyes stung.

He felt like he ought to say more, but any time he tried to come up with something else his mind drew a blank. His thoughts traveled back to the one Riverclanner that stood out to him, the marbled tom. He'd kill that kid if he saw him again. No more running away. No more trying to avoid conflict. Klaus was done trying to be diplomatic and not incur the wrath of the other clans... because apparently he'd already done that. They all wanted his skin.

So instead, he would get their's first. Every last one of them.

The pale tom spoke again after some silence, and... apologized for being 'emotional'. This baffled the Tarot, but he kept his tongue still as the rogue gave a bit of context as to what had made him snappy this particular day. Ears perked, head tilted to the slight and slightly upwards, he watched and listened patiently as the odd rogue continued.

After a pause and assessment of the other feline's body language, he hummed. Seemed like something was still eating away at Klaus, but he seemed stubbornly hesitant to share. No, his rogue friend seemed very shaken by something else that happened, that much was easy to tell.

"Usually thou art rath'r careful about hiding thy trail, and thee seemeth rath'r off despite the vict'ry of offing one of those bli-...  leadeth'rs." His voice was still as calm as a summer breeze, but was also a tad more restrained... almost soft. "Hast something hath changed thy usual tactics?" He wasn't prodding for an emotional story in that question, more like a query about how they were both going to proceed from this event, more context to make a judgment on if he needed to change his own actions while alone.

While he and Klaus had never talked much about any grand plans for the forest, Tarot had always had a sense that at some point his companion would change that fact. What grander goal were they aiming towards? Because up until now it had only been survival and occasionally going out of their way to make his companions's kin suffer for their 'transgressions'. Nothing solid, only some abstractly faint motive of vengeance.

He had a sense now that this was going to change. From what he had observed it take a lot to make Klaus shaken. A shaken Klaus is an unpredictable Klaus.

The loner tilted his head, then stood, stretching. Crouching down for a moment he coiled his muscles then fluidly jumped onto the same branch as his companion, a respectable gap between him and the other tom. For a moment he gazed at the pale tom, before turning and looking over the scenery of their territory, tail hanging below the branch and swishing idly.

"Thee needeth not to beareth thy soul to me, our kind is a rath'r did guard one.  But if 't be true big changes art coming I needeth some f'reknowledge to mapeth out mine own moveth m're accurately" He commented idly.

He paused then, pondering something. No... Klaus and he were not of the same seed, perhaps one thing he himself never needed was something that Klaus would. There was a beat of silence as he mused on that before he finally spoke up again. This comradery needed a better foundation, and he'd try to offer the first piece of it.

"Though if you do need anyone to listen to your troubles without judgement, I have found I'm rather skilled at that." He spoke, a slight smirk of light amusement on his muzzle as he forwent his usual style of speaking to clarify his message; 'I have no intentions of leaving'.

It was... an odd message to say Tarot had been alone for so long, and he wasn't exactly knowledgeable when it came to being a companion... but he found that he had grown to like Klaus. Perhaps it was just the fact that the tom hadn't shunned him when he learned about his rather disturbing taste in food or hadn't talked down his odd lack of solid morals. Some psychological reason that the loner couldn't quite grasp.

They had shared backstories, and neither of them had judged the other for their origins. At first, Tarot was simply trying to use this odd rogue to his advantage, and really he still was... but something... had changed about that. He didn't know what though, couldn't quite pin it down with a claw.

He'd always be wary underneath his lax attitude, that was something that wouldn't go away simply because betrayal was something he knew well. Perhaps though... he'd take a step beyond that line he had drawn when it came to him and Klaus. Maybe he'd go no further than that step, maybe not. Maybe this was all just to increase his chances of surviving this forest filled with overpowered clan cats that all seemed to generally despise loners by lumping them in the same group as rogues, who were their 'traitors'.

Honestly, Tarot was more inclined to believe that than some wishy-washy motive of 'friendship' (Though maybe that was just the denial of a stubborn loner).

Though perhaps the odd action of 'friendliness' would throw the rogue off, he'd have to rectify that. "I've obs'rv'd yond letting something keepeth eating at thee and denying venting 't to someone oft clouds logic. Maketh thee distract'd. We wouldn't wanteth yond not, wouldst we?" He followed up his clear statement, brow raised. The loner felt weird about how it would've seemed if he just let the offer stand alone. No, he wasn't used to such... 'empathetic' things, it made something twist in his gut, made him feel tainted.

If this ever became a common thing it'd be harrowing to get used to it. He wasn't lying though, he was good at listening, only rarely giving his own take on whatever important thing he was listening to. He only ever gave such 'empathetic' offers to emotionally manipulate other cats though, which wasn't actually his intention at that moment, surprisingly.

The thought made him blink. Yes... very bizarre.

Idly the loner groomed his paw, washing his face to hide the discomfort that came from stepping out of one's comfort zones. Despite that, he kept his mask expertly relaxed. While gazing at the abandoned rogue camp he had an odd feeling strike him... the scene felt like it was missing something... almost like it was too empty.

It was odd because he had been to many barren places before and never had such a feeling strike him.

How strange.

Klaus hardly moved or breathed. His claws scraped against the limb he was on as he flexed and sheathed them over and over. He knew Tarot was right... him leaving scent behind was... sloppy. He'd left his fur there on purpose out of a moment of rage. What would that cost them now? Then again, his and Tarot's scent hung all over this place, so even a random passer-by would notice it. Maybe it was foolish... but he was done hiding and slinking around like a scared criminal. If anyone wanted to come to this place and seek him out to kill him... then he welcomed it. He'd destroy them.

"I have decided something... I'm not safe from any clan's pursuit... so why do I act like Skyclan is my only enemy? Ivystar tried to drag me to their camp despite having no real logical reason to do so. I have done nothing to Riverclan but assist them." His tone grew darker at the end of that sentence. "Lilacstar let me go rather than apprehend me, but she still kicked me out. She promised me my family would safe and now one of my daughters is missing an ear, completely blind in one eye and has a limp for the rest of her life thanks to my father. I told her that keeping me in Windclan was her best bet. I told her I would help Windclan fight Skyclan... and she threatened to turn me over to them too."

He took a breath and let out a long sigh. His tail lashed in aggravation.

"They hate me for what I did to Skyclan, whom even they don't like... but ignore the good I have done for both of those clans. Why?" The question didn't need answering unless Tarot just wanted to. "Ivystar tried to tell me she wasn't scared of me before I killed her. I bet she feels really stupid now. Anyone who has no fear of me clearly hasn't been paying attention to what I do to my enemies. Was my attack on Skyclan not enough of a message for some? Why have me as an enemy when you can have me as an ally? I have proven my resilience, my cunning and my battle prowess time and time again. Fox Tarot... you're the only one who seems to recognize me as useful, monster or no."

He sat up a bit, one ear flicking back towards Tarot as he joined him nearby.

"So I have decided that I am not at war with Skyclan. I'm at war with all of the clans. It pains me that family members I do love are within those clans and will have to see only the worst of me... but I can't show restraint anymore. I have many times... and this is where it got me. Nowhere. I might even have to kill my kits, which bothers me... but they don't care. If I let my guard down they'd kill me too. I think Tornshadow is the only one left who still loves me back... but how long before she turns? She will... because they always do."

As far as it being obvious that he was distracted... he cringed to think about sharing his reasons. At the same time, Tarot wasn't incorrect. His logic had deteriorated of late... and a lot of the time he had grown bold. Unnecessarily risky even. He'd entered Thunderclan territory many times with no regards to his own safety, all because he wanted to... what? See Waterlily? That was a good part of the reason, he supposed... but there was more to it than that. It was a dark place in his mind that he wasn't sure he wanted to explore further.

His psyche was... breaking.

"...

This seems... This is hard for me to tell you. Not just you but anyone... but I guess especially you because of how you are and how you see the world. To you, this must all seem like the whining of a privileged clan cat that hardly struggled in comparison to what you've gone through, and you know what? Maybe it is! But they're my struggles rega-"

His voice cracked. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. It was too late... his eyes were wet.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

He was done. He had to stop. Something was coming undone. Something. Was. Coming. Undone.

But did it matter? He had already gotten this far... His struggling to get the words out didn't dismiss Tarot's logic or make it untrue. Emotions didn't make facts untrue. His claws gripped the branch, feeling it splinter and crack under the pressure. He hardly seemed to notice it though. He had to get this out and he finally had someone willing to actually hear him out. This was the last hold Smokefeather had on him, this feeling of emptiness that he only knew how to answer with vengeance so intense that it bordered on suicidal.

What if that was how he went? Unable to handle the inner damage that had been done to him by her, so in the end, she killed him after all? It was like pushing through thorny vines, knowing that even though it hurt, once he finally broke the vines the thorns would not be able to bury themselves any deeper. The wounds would be deep. They would bleed... but then he would heal.

It had to be done.

"I told you how my mother took her frustrations out on me and called it a "spar"... well... it still really bothers me. It bothers me that she told me she wished she'd killed me and she regretted having me. I have kits, Tarot, scattered all over the place at this point but they're still around. I could never imagine saying something like that to them, no matter what they do to me. I'd be willing to fight them if they insisted... maybe I'd even be prepared at this point to kill them. But I absolutely do not regret having them or wish they'd died. If one of my kits ends up killing me, so be it I guess, but I refuse to become Smokefeather." He shook his head. He was getting off track.

"Anyway... Ivystar has similar coat colors to her... and she knocked me onto my back and got in my face telling me how little she cared for what happened to me or that she'd gladly kill me herself. She still smelled like her territory too, which was where Smokefeather first began to take out her anger on me, an apprentice. So I snapped. It was too familiar and I just couldn't handle it. I'm ashamed that that's all it takes... It's my biggest weakness."

And I really hope you don't use this against me. But he didn't say it. He certainly had abandonment issues, and why wouldn't he? Almost all of his allies had turned against him. Maybe Ashstorm still liked him, but he had reason to doubt.

"So in my moment of... stupidity or whatever you want to call it, I left a piece of my fur there. I wanted Riverclan to know I had done it because I am so tired of running, Tarot. I want to fight them. I want to hurt them and kill them! If they want to assume I'm nothing more than a heartless, soul-less, bloodthirsty monster with no thought or emotion other than kill then maybe that's what I should be! Maybe I need to show them what that actually looks like and then they will understand the difference when maybe the next frustrated and disowned cat comes along. It's too late for me to be given any real second chances but maybe I can make it easier on the next misunderstood cat."

His tone changed then, one clearly a mocking tone of one of the clan leaders.

"Well you killed your dad in a fit of rage because he made you feel worthless but at least you're not Dawnhawk! He had soul darker than a fox's heart in the middle of leaf-bare." The mocking stopped and he let out an exasperated sigh. Hot tears ran down his face and touched the branch below him.

"Foxing fox-hearted beech tree..." He muttered, thinking of Ivystar. He had gotten it out... and while it made him feel better, like having thorns finally give way after piercing him deep...

there was still the dull ache and the bleeding to deal with.

Klaus took the unspoken and spoken offer Tarot had given surprisingly readily. It gave the loner a sense of someone who had just been... waiting, waiting to share in their sufferings, their turmoil, but denying it, and hence, denying taking the first step.

No, it was clear to Tarot now. He and Klaus were similar, yes, similar in things like the necessity to kill other cats, of not feeling guilty about it in certain situations, in their grey morals, in their past trauma, in being viewed as monsters by those who discover their true nature.

But they were also... vastly different. Klaus was more in touch with the world, in touch with his emotions, in touch, if only slightly, with empathy.

Tarot had long since come to terms with being a monster, had long since embraced the prospect, partially due to his time in that pit of suffering that was his birth home, partially because he had given up in fighting against his instincts. Klaus though... Klaus was still fighting, fighting to return to some sense of normality, of balance, and in all the wrong places.

The loner gazed silently at his companion, having been paying attention, and he had really been listening to this rogue. This rogue he met under this tree, this rogue that had welcomed him into the fold so quickly because of poems, and the art of words. Tarot's eyes... the 'emotions' in them, the expression, it would probably liken to an alien trying to understand an unfamiliar creature. A glint of something in his gaze showed that at that moment he really wanted to understand what his comrade was going through.

There was a disconnect he was trying to get past. Brow furrowing for the first time in some faint glow of confusion, he looked away, gears churning as he tried to grasp something he had long since abandoned in that pit of death he had escaped from. The loner looked away, thinking deeply, analyzing the burst of information like an ant analyzing a substance it didn't know.

For a while there was a stillness about the loner, his eyes had long since closed to fully focus on the situation he was experiencing that was so new and different. A deep state of thought that would seem almost sinful to interrupt. Then... he shifted, moving closer to the broken tom, and slowly, gently, laid his feathery tail on his back... a sign of physical support he had never used for something like this.

Casting his mind through his memories, uncertainty, for the first time making him hesitate. He opened his mouth, a message carefully crafted, with those flowing, harmonic sentences he spoke when he first met his comrade. Hopefully, it would get the message across, and not be convoluted. Hopefully, it would leave an impact for the tom to grasp on in times like this when he's amidts such overwhelming emotions.

"As the world churns 'round thee, as everything seemeth did lose.
As thee frantically search for an answer, nay matter the did cost.

I bid thee, beest still, and pause for a heartbeat,
breath, inhale, and release the obsolete.

At which hour thy soul fights 'gainst thee, and thy mind cries out.
At which hour all seemeth did lose, and thou art did fill with doubt.

Rember, recall, that ye art thee.
Discard all others, for they doth not knoweth truly thy history."

His eyes lidded slightly as he entered a flow. Letting his words spin the message he was trying to impart, his voice smooth, his emotions at rest. The confusion slowly faded as he entered a familiar state, one he remembered when his only ally in that cursed two-leg place full of death and rot would create a feeling of safety with only their words. Much like he was trying to do now.

He wasn't sure if it'd be the same, the one who cared for him during that time of darkness, had, unlike him, been in touch with their empathy... hopefully, it'd work. For the foundation between him and Klaus to settle, there needed to be calm, and from that calm would come the reasoning they'd need to get through the uncertain future.

" Nay matter yond unrest, nay matter what past.
They art not thee, they wilt not last.

So standeth tall and true, remain steadfast.

Because in the end, the choice is yours to maketh.
Whether thee becometh what they wanteth, or what thee wanteth to remaketh,

So, who is't doth thee wanteth to best?
What doth thee wanteth to accept as thy identity?

I am not the one to decideth. Because I am not thee, nay, I am just a guide.
I may hath't did walk the same path as thee... But the yond path is still yours,

and its end wilt beest where thee will reside."

After the finishing sentence, Tarot went silent, the faint uncertainty soon returning. Ideas for what he should've put words, and how he could've rearranged sentences plagued him, but after a bit of effort he cast them aside. What was done was done, there was no going back. He could only hope the tom's mind would cast back to when they first met, and realize the connection between their first trading of words, and the words Tarot offered to him now.

Another line, another connection Tarot still grasped onto. Another sign reaffirming the message that he had no intentions of leaving Klaus behind. After a moment he spoke the gaze that had shifted to the pale tom beside him turning back to the scenery. "We aren't exactly the same, no but when I first escaped that pit of torment and stepped foot into the outside world, I fought against my cravings. Sometimes it didn't work though, and despite my best efforts, I was known as a monster on the streets of the twolegplace." His eyes lidded slightly with the memory, "I was inexperienced in how things worked around there, and... well... I had no one to teach me. Who would help a monster, after all?" He snorted lightly. "Eventually... I did the only thing I could. I fell back on what I knew what to do, and could do well. Hunt other cats."

He knew this subject would be a tad difficult. While Klaus didn't loath him or fear him for his 'cravings', Tarot knew plainly that it still made the rogue uncomfortable. Tarot understood the reaction, the eating of one's own species, while common in nature as a whole, was... well, not viewed as an ok thing by cats. In perilous situations, cats would do such a thing if it was their only option, but it wasn't common for that 'perilous situation' where it was the only option to last moons. When you do it for that long... it becomes engraved in you.

"It was during that time that I made a decision, I was feared, faced with disgust by many cats on the streets for something that was beyond my control at that point. If that was all they were going to see me as... why bother trying to be like them anymore? Why try to make ties to other cats if they would never accept you? Why do you have to go through the stress of loathing yourself for them?" He let his head tilt to the side loosely, closing his eyes and sighing. "When I realized that. I stopped. I stopped fighting who I was. Some could change for others, but I was not one of those cats. I was too unnatural, too much of an outlier to conform to their moulds. The cycle began, I survived leafbare alone, survived the streets alone, and stopped seeing other cats as anything but another creature that I could consume if necessary. They were the same level as the rats that scuttled between the twoleg trash that crowded alleyways."

The loner paused then, shifting and looking at his companion with a considering gaze. After a moment he looked away, releasing the vice grip on the bark below. "That thought pattern was soon... disturbed, though. I met someone, a tom. I was taking a break in an alleyway, muttering an old poem I heard from the one who taught me to speak the unusual way I do now." His tail twitched, gaze distant as he relived his memories. "He was a silvery grey cat, no patterns, and he walked up to me... and offered me some prey he had caught." Tarot let out a slight chuckle at that. "He started asking questions, I answered, he called me interesting."

The mottled tomcat shook his head slightly as if in mild bewilderment. "I told the tom about my unusual diet. All he did was ask me not to eat him, because then he wouldn't get to hear any poems again." Tarot paused, letting out a light, amused scoff. "After that encounter we crossed paths every once in a while, each time the tom greeted me with a poem of his own. I responded in kind, of course. We swapped stories, ideas, opinions, and each meeting he'd share some prey with me. Soon we started travelling together for short periods of time, protecting each other, helping each other survive. I never hunted other cats with him, so sometimes during our journies, I'd leave his side."

Tarot's expression suddenly grew dark then, his violet hues becoming cold. "One time when I came back... he was dead." Unbidden, his sharp hooked claws dug into the branch below, fur bristling with some sort of mute, chilled anger. "I could tell though, it wasn't because of the cold, dogs, or twolegs... no, it was caused by cats." A faint snarl curled up his muzzle for a moment, bearing daggerlike ivory fangs. "It had been leafbare, and snow was falling, dusting his pelt in a powder of white... if I had been gone longer, the tracks would've been covered. But at the time I could still follow them, so I did." He relaxed again, a dark feeling still seeming to swirl in his gaze.

"When I found them, there were two cats, stained in fresh blood. When they saw me, they backed away in fear... before I could kill them though, I had to ask.... why?" Tarot looked down, tilting his face away from his companion. "He had never fought another cat unless he had to, he had even fed young cats on the streets, even shared prey with struggling queens and their kits. Sure, he never showed mercy to his foes, he had killed other cats before, but he had also done 'good' things. Was it a territory dispute? Had he hunted something that they had been hunting? All those were normal reasons cats killed each other on the streets... but.. can you guess what their response was?" The loner looked back at Klaus. "They said... it was because he sided with me. Because he was allied, with a monster."

Abruptly the mottled tom's grip tightened on the branch, bark collapsing under his claws and falling to the ground, and he grit his teeth. It was obvious the memory infuriated him. Slowly though, he exhaled, and relaxed. "Do you remember when I told you that I favour some cats above others? That loner was one of them.... I thoroughly enjoyed the taste of blood that day." Tarot paused for a few heartbeats then, seeming to try and reorganize his thoughts. Finally, he spoke again. "When I returned to his body, he was almost completely covered in powdery white snow. It's nearly impossible to bury the dead in the twolegplace. Most of it is stone, wood, the such. Any dirt you can find is usually shallow, hard to dig through, and often near areas where twolegs frequent. All I could do for him was wrap him in a few discarded twoleg materials, then bury him in a snowbank."

There was a stretch of silence following that statement. The loner seeming to recover from the unpleasant memories. after a few heartbeats, he spoke up quietly. "That loner taught me how to accept myself, and accept my changes as I gained more experience. How to be who I am now without shame or doubt..." 


Tarot let out an amused huff after the statement, mind shifting to when he first met the 'feline of mist' under the tree they were both sitting on now."When I met you, you reminded me... so much of him, of how he and I met. The similarities were there, even if you were a tad more... dramatic, then him" His voice was light as he said that, but he briefly shook his head, then looked to the troubled tom beside him that he could confidently call a comrade, perhaps even a friend. Finally, though, he revealed the final piece of the puzzle.

"That loner's name, was Klaus." Tarot 'commented', examining the rogue's reaction for a moment. He then looked away, movements relaxed once more. "I've walked a similar path to you, but in the end, all I can do is give you advice. It's your journey, your choices. I have no intention of controlling them, of controlling who you are. It'd be rather hypocritical if I did, no?"

His ear flicked, and after a moment of consideration, he continued. "But, I offer you my support along the way. If you're willing to take it.... because, I think even monsters can benefit from having someone at their side." The last part was spoken with a tone of sardonic humour, and he quirked a brow at the cheesy line that just exited his mouth. He sounded so... sappy.

Why was he acting like this? It had never happed before. Was it really just because of the similarities between him ad this... ex-clan cat? Was it that sense of comradery that pushed him to go so far as to comfort this rogue? He was no queen, he never had kits, the only companion he ever had before the once-named Dawnhawk was... well, Klaus.

(Geeze, he never should've shared that story, now it was getting confusing.)

He mentally shook the questioning thoughts away, he had just shared a whole story about accepting one's self, now it was time for him to adapt and accept this new change in his life. If he kept questioning his sudden softness he'd just throw himself off. He had survived alone for so long, he should know that adaptation was key to staying alive.

So, just like that loner so long ago stayed by his side on many bone-chilling nights and perilous travels, he'd stay by Klaus's side. Through blood, pain, and hate, he'd remain a constant, a stone, a foundation. It was solidarity, he supposed... and he had no intentions of letting Klaus die alone, not again.

Besides... making this particular rogue his enemy was not on his bucket list.

His eyes narrowed, he was steady once more. "So... Klaus... if you want to crush the clans under your claws... so shall I." A spark entered his eyes, a confident gleam in their iris depths, "I'm sure such a venture will be... most interesting, after all." The loner smirked sharply.

If he was to fall below the might of these forest-dwelling felines... he wouldn't actually see it as a terrible way to die. At least it'd be a fun ride on the way down.

Klaus didn't want to look at Tarot after he finished speaking. A silence passed between the two and he had to wonder if he had finally scared his companion off. He wasn't entirely sure that he could blame him. What rational being left evidence of their guilt at a murder scene? The rational being didn't, that was the answer. He heard movement behind him, fully expecting Tarot to jump off of the tree and be gone, never to come to this place again.

What he got was the complete opposite. A soft but supportive touch as Tarot's tail draped over his back. Klaus tensed at the unexpected touch, but that tension slowly released as his mind fully wrapped around what exactly it was. At that moment, he finally drew his chin up from his foreleg and looked at Tarot. The wetness in his eyes and on his face was still there, but tears had stopped flowing for now. Now in his eyes was mostly confusion, but a small, timid touch of hope.

Tarot then began to speak... a poem... and somehow that captured Klaus's attention even more than any ordinary speaking would. He still loved it... he still appreciated the art of the woven word. That and the meaning behind what Tarot was saying was far more than a comfort to hear. Words of this nature were so rare to him, throughout his life these things had eluded him: Words of encouragement. Words to embrace who he was rather than try and show the world that he was something that he... perhaps was not.

There was a simple peace in the way Tarot thought. He had long believed that good and evil were not real, as they were subject to change from cat to cat, and even the same cat might change their perceptions as such as they aged. Yet even when he held that belief, he still tried to adhere to what the cats around him believed merely out of the desperate and painful need to belong. With Tarot here... he no longer had to worry about that need, as it had been fulfilled. His brown tabby companion seemed to be truly non-judgmental... and that meant that he likely wasn't going to abandon him.

That realization hit him both like a tumbling boulder and the warm embrace of some...cat that he never had. Ashstorm had been there for him, but she never left Skyclan to be with him and the same could be said for Blossomstep. While they supported him in spirit, so to speak, they did not support him in any other way. Now that he had Tarot, he realized exactly how much the rest of that support really mattered. He finally realized exactly what had been missing all of this time.

Klaus found himself unable to speak, but Tarot began to talk again afterward anyway. For that he was grateful. With drying eyes and attentive ears pricked forward, he listened to the details of Tarot's life. It was then that he realized that the dark tom too gripped and clawed bark when he talked about something painful. Klaus almost involuntarily, but gently, laid his own soft gold and white tail across Tarot's back. He did not interrupt otherwise.

When Tarot got to the part where some cats had killed his friend, a kind loner, all because he had sided with a monster, his expression darkened. That sounded so much like something vile that a Skyclan cat would say... particularly Beechface or Ravenclaw, his sisters. They had always been hateful sacks of dung. If he'd found out that they killed Tarot... he wondered if his own family's cannibalism just might come out in him. True it had only been his one aunt that had cannibalistic tendencies, but it was in his blood regardless.

"When I met you, you reminded me... so much of him, of how he and I met. The similarities were there, even if you were a tad more... dramatic, than him."

Klaus had to smile. How could he not? "I can be a little... whiny I suppose." It didn't bother him to admit it. Then the name of the loner was finally revealed. Klaus blinked and his expression melted into one of surprise... but there was a sense of... of... honor that Tarot chose that name for him. It took him a moment to truly understand and appreciate what the name now meant. Not in the actual meaning of the name, but what it meant to Tarot.

"Well... Klaus sounds like he was a much kinder tom than me. I've survived on my own long enough that I can confidently tell you that I shared my meals with very, very few cats." He was definitely no reincarnation of that gentle soul. So Tarot was going to kill clan cats with him eh? He had to know this would likely end in their deaths, but indeed, a fun ride it would be.

"Thank you for telling me that," He spoke softly, though more it was a "thank you for telling me even though it was painful and uncomfortable to talk about." "I appreciate the name more now... and yet now that I know the truth, I feel completely unworthy of it." He gave the other tom a bittersweet smile. The blazing blue eyes of the pale tom then looked out across the empty camp.

Empty.

Maybe that needed to change. Maybe he and Tarot needed to collect the exiled, the outcasts and the downtrodden. Maybe it was time that they start their own clan of sorts... a place of acceptance regardless of your transgressions and unsavory quirks. And together, the new clan could fight the others, destroy them if possible.

"Just two cats would never destroy five clans, Tarot. We need more if we're going to do this efficiently, otherwise, we just die and are forgotten about. I want to find more of us who feel discarded and give them a chance to be one of us. A clan of our own... though I'd rather not call it a clan. I want as little similarities to the clans as I can without compromising the structural integrity."

Names... they would need names for things. If not a clan, then what? He didn't intend for it to be like the Asylum either. That plan had failed. Luckily he was with a cat that was just as good at words as he was.

"What do you think of this idea? It might just be us two for awhile but... I think we could help it grow..."

He went silent and wondered what his companion would think. Maybe he was still squirrely in the head from recent events... or maybe Tarot would agree. Could this be the start of something new?

Something big?

It seemed both the story, poem, and silent physical support had all made the impact the loner had been trying to make. He didn't quite expect the rogue to return the simple gesture of support that came from laying one's tale on another, but he appreciated the effort. Sure he had been made, but he had long since accepted the death of his former loner companion.

The pale-furred tom beside him seemed to have hung onto every word Tarot had spoken, and the violet-eyed feline had caught sight of the unreadable emotion that had come to life his comrade's hues when he learned of the true origins of the name Tarot had given him. His response though was met with mild amusement. Unworthy? Did Klaus think he had given him that name because he wanted him to be some sort of reincarnation?

"I didn't giveth thee yond name because I did want thee to beest like him, mine lief cousin. Thee just reminded me of him through some of the similarities to him and how he and I interacted. Ye art thy own gib. Though, if 't be true 't helps, I bethink I can sayeth with confidence yond mine previous companion would've did doth bethink thee fitted his name quite nicely."

After his comment, he looked back to the empty camp, ear twitching idly as his companion spoke once more, his house shifting with a light consideration. He listened until the other tom probed for a response, and glanced over. He rose a brow.
"Oh, I wholeheartedly concur, coequal if 't be true 't would beest quite... vexing, to hath't to keepeth moo cats alive other than myself." He sighed.

After his anecdotal complaint though, he continued. "If 't be true thee doth wanteth to keepeth 't distinct from the clans though, I hath't a valorous did bite of knowledge on other styles of power structures. After all, cats doth band togethering in the streets. Though they aren't did doth clepe clans, they're did doth clepe gangs. I can belike useth those as a reference 'long with these clans to cautel together something more unique and more stable. As long as we don't includeth thy meddlesome apparition ancestors, yond is." The last bite was stated with a hint of him curling his lips up into a snarl or grimace of disgust, but it didn't last long.

For a moment he pondered a thought that struck him though. His gaze shifted slightly to look back in the direction of the clans. "As for gathering cats, I've planted one or two seeds into some clan cats' minds. One is much more likely to breaketh from that lady clan. I couldst receiveth that lady to possibly join, yond is if 't be true I reacheth that lady ere that lady's clan runs her ragged into her own grave. Very much having one or two medicine cats taketh care of a whole clan nay matter what stress they may beest going through in their personal liveth is appalling." He huffed, eyes narrowing. "'t's already StarClan forgive us enow yond they hath't that lady only taketh care of those folk ov'r herself. 't goeth 'gainst any beast's very instinct of survival."

He seemed more upset at them forcing something to go against its own instincts than the actual cat he seemed to be talking about.

After the small rant though he seemed to go back to thinking. "'If 't be true I doth ever bringeth her to meeteth thee the lady'll belike knoweth of thy origins, still I'll beest acting like the gib she'll knoweth during yond time, which is not how I usually act, may I mention. So peradventure yond high-lone wilt beest enow to sway that lady to our side." He looked back up to Klaus, a sharp glint in his eyes as he seemed to take the challenge of their endover as if it were his own.

"With time though I may beest able to sway a few moo clan cats to our side. Yond is until mine name spreads from the few who is't knoweth yond I'm the culprit for a few deaths within clans. By then 't'd only beest pure luck if 't be true anyone actually did let me tempt them instead of immediately going for the killeth, as most doth with thee. For anon, though, I'm a simple loner with rather enlightening views to share." He gave his companion a playfully sly smirk.

For people who are cast out of their clans without his influence though... "As for those did cast out by their clans. 't belike isn't a ingraft occurrence, is't? We'd likely hath't to stir the pot of the five clans ourselves to dislodge any who is't art a tad too different from their peers. With high tension, decisions art did maketh, after all. Another way to bolster our numbers would beest loners who is't may just decideth to did cast aside their ingraft ways like me. 't'd beest harder to breed loyalty out of misanthropes though." Tarot hummed. Falling to silence as he considered possible plans of action.

As always, Tarot gave Klaus a lot to think about. Few cats did. At the mention of being able to possibly persuade a she-cat to join them... well the pale tom couldn't help it. He gave Tarot a... look. "You're bringing a lady here and you want me gone for awhile?" He gave him a smirk. Maybe that's what Tarot meant, maybe not.... but it was still fun to try to poke at his companion all the same. "I get it. I can go find something else to do for awhile." He looked at the crumbling overhang and the... less than sturdy tree they were on. Tarot was bold bringing a she-cat here... or was he clueless? Was he going to need help? Did he need a wingman?

"You should probably keep all the... special diet talk to yourself. No one wants to hear about it... but especially because you might scare her off in your case." Okay okay he was done poking fun... He let out a short chuckle... then braced himself just in case Tarot decided to push him off of his branch.

"On another note... You're right... we will have to probably cause issues with the other clans. Leaf-bare is already coming, so they'll be fairly tense over food." How ironic that he was alone and only on occasion struggled to eat. Sure he had Tarot to help him on days he wasn't so successful, but the two party cat system was certainly easier to feed than an entire clan. "I've noticed fresh-kill lasts longer in leaf-bare though. What if we hunted on clan territory, brought it back here and buried it under snow? We'd be well fed and they'd be at each other's throats all leaf-bare. Although... that comes with it's own risks."

Even he knew it wasn't the greatest plan, but the one sure way to get clans to fight was over food. Conflict would certainly cause tempers to flare even within clans though... Tarot wasn't wrong about that. If only they had a way of figuring out who the odd ones out in each clan were and were able to talk to them directly.

"How do you suppose we go about speeding up the recruiting process? What clan is that one she-cat you were talking about coming from?" He could maybe glean some insight based on who she was and where she was coming from. Tarot would be far more useful in gathering intel than he would be, as a lot of cats already knew who he was and were already wary of him, if not outright murderous.

OOC: This post is... really bad... but I'm tired and I need to go to bed. Just didn't want to leave you with nothing.

Well, his companion either got the completely wrong idea or was trying to tease him. "Well if 't be true the lady doest join the lady'll obviously needeth to meeteth thee at some point, might as well beest sooner rather than anon I'd bethink. 't's all hypothetical did conclude, be 't." The tom snorted. then glanced over, raising a brow.  "Receiveth thy mind out of the pits though, mine lief cousin. I doth believeth I did betoken thee mine opinions about mating and having kits. Besides, I can confidently sayeth the lady most forsooth doesn't see me yond way, barely remembered me the last time we did meet, but I'm quite sure yond did hath't something to doth with some trauma she did wend through between at which hour I did meet her ere and at which hour we did meet again. Foggy mind, foggy memories, it seems."

The loner paused, glancing to the scenery around him. "Of course, I did win't telleth her about mine tastes, unless the lady finds out through the rumour weed, yond is. Then the lady'll likely beest a did lose cause in yond case, most wondrous leaveth her to that her brutish clan mates to waste hence and returneth to the soil." He hummed, not seeming particularly perturbed by the possibility.

Klaus then posed a suggestion that made Tarot glance over in consideration. "Yond couldst, forsooth, beest a valorous way to receiveth those cats off their pedestals and squabble. Peradventure spreading whispers couldst assist in the dislodging of the radicals yond only survive in the clans due to their leniency during peacetimes." Violet hues glinting, he pondered the possible complications that could come with such a tactic. "Though the possibility of those folk knowing we art the ones hunting on their lands through scent trails, tracks, and the wanteth of a clan scent, forsooth, pose issues. 'long with being did doth catch in the act, yond is. I suppose I, like thee once did doth, couldst disguise myself, and peradventure covereth myself in the particularly identifying scents of an opposing clan. Riverclan's would beest fish, Shadowclan the musk of the marsh, Windclan being rabbits. I haven't the faintest clue for Thunderclan though, they're just did place in a forest, same with Skyclan."

He frowned,  "Another way would just beest rolling in scent markers, though yond would beest rather unpleasant, would hath't to inurn 't afterwards." A grimace crossed his features, though of course he was fully willing to go into extremes. Then, another thought hit him,  "Adding herbs into the scents though. What would possibly beest the reaction if 't be true the clans did doth beginneth suspecting yond other clans' medicine cats wast the ones crossing territories?" The loner questioned his companion, after all, Klaus was once a clan cat, and understood the psychology of the clans better than him.

At the pale tom's next inquiries Tarot paused. "Well, the most wondrous way is through subtle manipulation if 't be true thou art talking about the process itself, younger cats art the most wondrous targets, moo reckless, less enwisened about their lodging in the ordinary. If 't be true thou art talking about actually recruiting cats though, I'd sayeth we'd hath't to first did set up the ideal system we wanteth this group to beest did set up with. Then, if 't be true we gain enow of a base number, sendeth those folk out to constantly search for recruits."

The second question made the mottled tom hesitate though, but not for long, he wasn't one to keep things from Klaus out of concern for his reaction. "A shecat by the name of Cloverheart. I met her when she was an apprentice before I met you. She's the medicine cat of Riverclan now though. Like I said, her clan isn't taking the best care of her mental state at the moment, so she's vulnerable to emotional manipulations. She took an interest in me through my tales of when I lived on the streets, I swiftly entranced her with words, now she seems to see me as a friend even despite her mental fog." He hummed.

"Though, there's always the option of me infiltrating Riverclan through her to cause disruptions in the clans directly. I would likely despise every moment of it, but... if it works, well, that'd be the quickest way to throw them all into chaos so we can strike and steal those dislodged amidst the turmoil. Along with that, there's the fact that there's now going to be a leadership change in the clan..." He glanced over at Klaus, gaze pondering. "I'd understand if you'd prefer to keep me from their grasp despite the possible ideal results it'd bring. This would be a high level of manipulation. As a result, it'd also be high risk. More options could be examined if nothing else would work, it could be a last resort. It'd rely on that molly surviving her hardships though, so the winder of opportunity could be smaller than expected." A world of opportunities could be opened if he did infiltrate Riverclan's ranks, and the perfect opportunity for such an operation was now. If Riverclan warriors, leaders, deputies were within his grasp, and he employed his best tactics to gain their full trust... imagine the destruction within the clans he could cause.

Some in Windclan could recognize him, accuse him of devouring one of their warriors, but if he had Riverclan's trust, all that would do would ignite a fire that would begin the path of instructions for these cats... It was a tantalizing possibility, and a glint of some twisted hunger for it flashed through his gaze...

Still, that would all hinge on if he truly gained Clover's highest favor, over even Starclan themselves who could end up interfering and telling her his true atrocities. Through the medicine cat, the trust of Riverclan would be within reach.

Perhaps, though, he should also gain some sort of an ally in Thunderclan, a clan that he had, as of so far, left untouched by his influence. He hadn't encountered any in Shadowclan as well, but he had a feeling that would soon change. Oh... the possibilities of the payoff were so very tempting, and the knowledge of how clans thought was figuratively mouthwatering.

Still, Tarot would leave the verdict up to Klaus. He knew his friend had a bad past with Riverclan now, and he had just solidified the base of their relationship with the pale tom. So it'd likely be far less of a tantalizing idea for him, unlike the loner himself.

Still, the mottled tom liked to keep his options open, and now that the forest had given him a fresh chance to set a proper base of connections unlike the streets had, there were, indeed, a lot of options.