The Cries of Our Foes [C]

Burningwing was at a low point in his life. His clan mindlessly took in more and more rogues, having learned nothing from the Batglow incident and he was isolated from most of the clan with the exception of his apprentice. Only Cicadapaw seemed to have any sense. Was it because he himself had instilled it in him? Or was it because Cicadapaw had already been predisposed to such an idea? The dark warrior had said he'd go out on patrol alone and not a single cat objected. They probably hoped something would happen to him... the traitors. Regardless, he walked on the edge of the thunderpath alone, not hunting, not marking anything. Ultimately... not caring.

A foreign scent that had nothing to do with the monsters that rushed up and down the thunderpath caught his attention however. Another cat... a tom. Burningwing stopped in his tracks and looked around in the darkness for him... He spotted the... rogue despite his dark pelt and his otherwise commendable ability to hide in the darkness. Against a shadowclan cat's eyes however, he blended in very minimally. At the very least, the stray cat was where he belonged and not on Shadowclan camp's entrance begging for a place to stay. As far as Burningwing was concerned, the two toms had no quarrel.

That was not to say that the rogue didn't want trouble himself. If they were to fight, then so be it. He'd drag the corpse back for all of Shadowclan, the rogues and rogue-borns specifically to see.

"Don't bother hiding yourself. My eyes can pierce even the darkness of the No Moon. Stay your claws, and I will stay my own." Burningwing waited to see what the rogue was going to do. His hopes were not high that this would not end in violence. They were only simple-minded, lowly creatures after all. All of them driven only by the very basic of instincts and nothing more. Mindless, godless, savages.

The loner had been minding his own business when an unfamiliar scent from an unfamiliar cat hit his nose with a shift in the breeze.

Tarot had been idling near the 'thunderpath', the rush of monsters not bothering him in the slightest seeing as how most of his life was spent in the busy streets of the twolegplace. Cleaning up after his latest meal on the neutral ground of the clans had been his only plan at that moment, and the interruption in his lounging had not been fully welcome.

Of course, he immediately skulked into the shadows, trying to hide himself despite it being daylight. Usually, he was able to manage fairly well thanks to his mottled pelt and honed tactics, most cats had a hard time picking him out of the shadows unless they were specifically looking for him, this was even more applicable in the abundant cover of the forest. When night fell Tarot considered himself a neigh-master of stealth.

Sadly, it was not night. Tarot wasn't terribly put-off after being spotted by the approaching cat, sure he would've preferred the brown-pelted tom left him be so he could return to sunbathing and grooming, but, alas, this was not to be. At least this cat didn't immediately choose violence.

After being called out the loner meandered out of the shadows, posture and movements lax and seemingly unbothered. For a moment he paused, studying the tom with indifferent violet hues, his mildly scarred visage showing no signs of hostility.

"Going by your odd scent I assume you're a clan cat." He commented it was a statement, not a question. He forgoed his usual style of talking, as he often did when encountering clan cats. Apparently, when they didn't know what you were saying, they got a short fuse. At least that was what he experienced with his first encounter with clan cats. "The fact that you aren't immediately attacking and trying to skin me shows much more restraint than most clan cats I've encountered." He idly... complimented? "Then again, I suppose being on nuetral ground helps." He meowed dryly.

Settling on his haunches, Tarot rose a brow."What brings you away from whatever quant territory your clan has claimed? Last I checked, full moon has already passed." The tom quiped. An odd showing of his knowlege, seeing as how he didn't seem to immidiatly know what clan the stranger was from by scent alone, yet clearly knew about the gathering clans have under the full moon.

Burningwing watched him crawl out of his shadows with a blank expression. "You assume correctly." He answered simply. This one seemed to be more chatty than other rogues he'd met. He hadn't decided whether or not he liked it. "I get away from my home once in awhile for my own sanity." He wasn't giving the rogue much to talk about, he knew. He took a deep breath to relax the bit of tension he kept in his shoulders. The rogue was being... polite... for a rogue.

"I'm Burningwing of Shadowclan." Maybe they didn't need to call each other "clan cat" and "rogue" back and forth necessarily. "It's refreshing seeing a rogue off of my territory and away from my border where you belong. I hope that's not too offensive for you. There have been far too many, some even kill my clanmates and my clanmates are stupid enough to keep taking them in. You wouldn't happen to be the reason kittens keep showing up in our lands, are you?" That situation might turn violent if this rogue knew anything about it. If the rogue even gave him the tiniest hint of interest of joining Shadowclan with this new piece of information he just gave him, he'd kill him now and save himself future problems.

"There is no telling what might happen to an unwitting kit in our marshes. The mud has swallowed even adult cats whole before." A small deterrent, he hoped. Maybe if he told all of the rogues his territory was unfriendly towards outsiders.... would they stop coming? What if he told them Shadowclan was hostile towards rogues? This inormation he would experiment with a few times. If he could at least prevent the mass migration to his homeland, maybe he could kill the rogues and half-bloods that were still living within Shadowclan's camp. There was still hope for Shadowclan and true Shadowclanners... he just needed to be proactive instead of reactive.

That required a bit of... tact.

A glint of amusement passed through the loner's eyes at the clan cat's explanation as to why he wasn't in his territory. "Fair enough."

Tarot tilted his head as the brown-pelted tom introduced himself, how curious. At the little blurb of information, the feline gave the loner let out a light chuckle "Well-met good sir. I am Tarot, a simple loner who hails from the streets of the twolegplace. I was never in a clan nor have I any intention of joining one. A clan cat's lifestyle is far too restraining for one such as me who craves freedom and seeks knowledge of the world." He lapped at his paw, washing his face as he felt bits of tried blood from his food clinging to his muzzle. After lowering it he continued, brow raised curiously. "Shadowclan's situation does, indeed sound odd. Allowing possible threats into your home is rather unusual for any cat. I assure you though I have not... placed or coerced kits in your lands." At the last part he sounded, indeed, rather baffled.

He tilted his head pondering the odd conundrum. "In my experience, rogues and loners usually avoid having or caring for kits, they're extra mouths to feed and can barely defend themselves. It poses quite the problem when one already struggles to survive leaf-bare and can barely feed themselves, much less growing kits." The loner shook his head at the mere idea of such a thing. "My best guess would be that loners and rogues are just happening to dump the pint-sized liabilities near Shadowclan, since leaf-fall is close to coming to a close. The confused kits then wander into your lands." His tone betrayed that he wasn't so sure of the string of coincidences he was trying to use to explain the phenomenon.

The tom then frowned, "In light of that, it seems rather illogical to accept more cats into a clan when leaf-bare is so close. Unless clans aren't at risk during times of low prey, cold weather, and rampant illness." He meowed dryly. Personally, Tarot would've just let the marshes swallow the kits, survival of the fittest.

The loner rose a brow. "I assume this is the situation that forced you to leave your lands to protect your own sanity?"

Everything the loner was telling him seemed to be the truth. A rogue who actually knew his place and had no intention of joining a clan? Burningwing might actually like this one, but he wouldn't say it out loud. He did however confirm what Burningwing's parents had taught him... that rogues were all savages that only followed their most basic impulses. Abandoning kits was commonplace. Why then, should Shadowclan pick up their slack?

"Shadowclan has soft leadership. They don't think about anything before they do it. They're just as emotional and irrational as pregnant queens. As someone who can trace their lineage all of the way back to Shadowstar, the first Shadowclan leader, it pains me to see my bloodline and my clan's heritage being washed away over time by such weakness. I think a rather harsh leaf-bare is in order... I hope Starclan punishes the entire forest for their insolence. I'm a true Shadowclan cat. I will survive as my family always has in the marshes. I'm hoping the rogues... well go rogue, turn on us and each other and then maybe that foolish Flintstar, Murkystrike and Frostgaze will get it through their heads that bringing in stray kits does nothing for Shadowclan but complicate things."

Burningwing's fur bristled. His tail lashed and he kneaded the ground beneath his claws. The ground was much harder than he was used to outside of the marsh. It resisted his gouging rather than give way like the softer, wetter earth that was his home.

"It's not your problem though. I don't need to go on about it. I appreciate you staying true to your nature, even if we may never truly be friends. I have more respect for you than some of my clanmates." That was an achievement for a rogue. Burningwing would never be convinced otherwise that he was not superior to anyone of mixed blood and especially superior to any lone cat, but he could acknowledge admirable traits when he saw them.

"Who knows... if you are ever in an altercation with one of the cats I mentioned... despite them being pure Shadowclan... maybe I will look the other way while you kill them. Maybe I'll help. It's a sobering thing to have your beliefs come into conflict with each other. I suppose just because you're pure Shadowclan of blood doesn't mean you are of mind. They're just as vile as the half bloods that dare roam Shadowclan territory like they belong there." If a plant was sick, rip it out and away from the others to prevent contamination. Maybe the threat isn't the rogues outside of his clan... but rather the pure bloods with soft heads that were within.

My, my. Wasn't this cat high and mighty? No matter, he supposed, it isn't unexpected. Besides, no matter how much one thinks themselves above 'savagery' they are, nature will eventually consume them. Death would humble him when his time came. Still, he had to reaffirm a few things it seemed. This clanner took his half-baked guess about the situation as if Starclan themselves gave him the answer. Ridiculous.  "Allow me to reaffirm that most rogues and loners do not risk having kits unless they are in a very good situation. But, as with any group, some are thoughtless and ignore consequences. Much like your leader has done, it seems." He snorted. The talk of Starclan 'punishing' the whole forest made his eyes lid in mild annoyance. Seems some clan cats were absolute fanatics about those meddling ghosts who think of themselves as being in control of nature. Preposterus. Of course he didn't say this out loud.

"Survival of the fittest comes heavily into play during leaf-bare. I'm sure a decent amount of the joiners will perish against the harsh whims of nature. Perhaps some of your clanmates as well. Sickness, cold, lack of food, an inflated clan will be hard-pressed to fight against those." He hummed, tail twitching laxly despite the clanner's inflamed words.

The comment of this clanner respecting him more than some of his clanmates elicited a light chuckle from the loner.  "I'll take your compliment. Seems like it'd be hard to earn the respect of someone like you with that loathing for rogues you have. Even if I am not actually a rogue." The loner got annoyed whenever clan cats mixed those titles ups. Rogues and loners were two different groups, one was born into this little twisted society of cats, and the other had no past rooted in these baffling clans. Really, Tarot thought that loners often got a lot of hate from clans because of rogues, which was foolish and confusing seeing as how most loners haven't even heard of clans.

A slight smile curled up his muzzle at the not-so-subtle permission given by Burning to literally murder shadowclanners. His violet eyes sparked in amusement.  "If such a request get's me a favour from a clan cat I wouldn't be opposed to getting my paws dirty. Though I'll likely need to get some more training in how to fight before I face off against a group of clan cats... that or backup at the very least." He snorted.  "I'm not delusional, I know a suicide mission when I see one. Clan cats train to fight just a few moons after they're born, if I recall correctly, and they have experts to teach them. Loners do not have such resources, we're mostly focused on surviving the downfalls of our freedom."

He then rose his brow,  "But if you're that dedicated to 'cleansing your clan' want a bit of assistance in doing so I'm here once every five days, it's a good sunbathing spot." He spoke, voice rather carefree despite the gravity of what the topic was about. "Also it's one of the few places in this forest I can wander without being skinned. Sometimes I miss the twolegplace, it had gangs and kittypets but was frankly far too large to be completely claimed like this forest nearly is." He snorted. Tarot stood then, stretching before settling into a sitting position. "This forest is far too interesting to ignore though. Clans are fascinating to observe." He smirked.

This was.... far more intelligence than he expected some lone cat to have. A distinction between rogues and loners? Isn't that what that idiot Windclan medicine cat tried to tell him too? Not that Windclan opinions mattered really... they were all nasty rogues themselves. Now intrigued, Burningwing listened... and the offer for assistance to cleanse his clan was far more tempting than it should have been. It was the first time in his life he actually felt... impure himself. Still, the temptation was there in his eyes as they scanned the ground, as if the answers would be found there.

Was it immoral to use a beast for good?

"You mentioned a favor... what kind of favor would you want? I would certainly be in your debt if you helped me, but I would like to know what exactly I'd be getting into." But at the same time it turned his stomach to have to rely on an outsider. What choice did he have though? Cicadapaw was loyal but he was only an apprentice. The more experienced warriors would shred him and probably feed him to their rogue friends.

Every five days in this spot... He could bring Batglow or Webshadow here to be slaughtered... If Tarot needed assistance he supposed he could help but they would have to be absolutely sure that those miserable rats were dead. He could not be caught.

Tarot's brow raised when the tom seemed to actually take his offer, not without asking what the conditions were though... Was he actually convincing this clan cat purest to turn against his own clan? Sure, the loner knew that he was especially skilled at manipulating cats, but this made him, for a brief moment, wonder if he was imagining things.

Well, he supposed there was no stopping now... it was time to be a bit less half-hearted about this interaction. If he played this game right, he could gain yet another asset, another paw hold in this forest.

After, outwardly, seeming to take a bit to think, the loner rose an amused brow, his violet eyes glinting humorously.  "That's the thing about favors, clanner. They're flexible. I suppose the best question to ask would be... what lines are you unwilling to cross to accomplish the goal of cleansing your clan's impurities."  His eyes lidded, gaze seeming a tad sharper than before.  "If you can come up with an answer to that, then by my word, I will not ask a favour of you that would cross those lines. In a situation like this though, limiting yourself to a box is rather counterproductive. After all, this is putting your status as a clan cat on the line. If you remain inflexible it'll be harder for me to assist you, and you yourself may wind up labelled as the very thing you despise."

His tail twitched idly, "And if I don't get any significant gain with my favour there's not much motivation to be had. This little job, after all, ruins my anonymity, and being publicly labelled as an enemy of the clans isn't really something favourable, I'm sure you know." The loner chuckled, perhaps his spiel just made things more confusing, time to tie up the little speech.  "So feel free to give me your conditions. Just know that the more flexibility there is, the better the result of my efforts in snuffing out your impure clanmates."

His ear twitched laxly,  "And if you're willing to push past the limitations you've made for yourself as a clan cat, I may even be able to call in a little help for whatever finale you might plan. After all, it takes a finishing blow to permanently silence abominations."

This is evil... this is wrong and you know it... Burningwing's eyes went to his toes and his fur began to stand. He had no allies in Shadowclan except for an apprentice... he would need a lot more than that to fix this problem. A lone cat had offered his help, but it was the very thing he was trying to get rid of. He'd never been so unsure and conflicted in his life. He'd had the stones to do what his parents couldn't and had openly challenged Shadowclan leadership for the whole clan to see, and what did that get him? Nothing. So what would work?

If he only ever allowed impurities to die... he would be found out. No.. he would have to sacrifice precious, pure Shadowclan blood at some point to throw leadership off of the scent. He supposed he could offer Frostgaze... but would that be too obvious?

"This is something I need to think about I think. I really shouldn't trust the word of a godless heathen such as yourself... but I can't deny that I can't do this alone." He was grasping at straws, maybe on some level hoping he'd scare the rogue off or offend him with his words. The question then nagged him again... Was it wrong to use a beast for righteous deeds? Was it righteous to soil one's soul for the greater good of the future?

In his eyes, Burningwing was an entire reality away from this one, imagining future generations of pure Shadowclanners talking poorly of him... but only existing because of him at the same time. Was this right? Was this worth it? Did the ends justify the means?

"You're certainly putting yourself in a great deal of danger... Tarot." He couldn't believe he just used this beast's actual and alleged name. "What's to stop you from turning tail and abandoning me to my fate if things become too much for you? I don't expect someone with no ties or true love for Shadowclan to stay loyal to my mission on the simple promise of a mere favor." This was a fool's game... The Dark Forest had tempting offers indeed, but he never imagined they would actually come for him, as devout as he was. Or was this Starclan, giving a lowly sinner a chance to redeem themselves and Burningwing was chosen to be his shepherd?

The truth had never been so murky for him before.... ever.

The clanner's next words amused him enough to the point of chuckling lightly. Ah, godless, how could he take that as an insult if it was already a fact he wholly accepted. "Indeed, the only higher being I pay homage to is nature itself, my dear clan cat." His violet hues glinted in mirth. A clear message stating that this tom really didn't ruffle his fur in the slightest.

The shadowclan cat's next words made the loner tilt his head in consideration. Finally, he answered, voice relaxed and level once more. "Two things, one, I keep my deals unless the one I'm dealing with turns against me. Two, this is a far too interesting of an experience to pass up. I've gotten into many dangerous situations, see, and that one thing is what has made me see them through to the end. Of course, the level of effort I put into doing that varies from time to time depending on circumstances, but that's simply to be expected." He stared at the tom in consideration, something unreadable in his entrancing gaze, before he continued.

"Really, the success of your crusade is entirely up to you. It's your path your carving, I may only be a passing phantom in the end... if you don't want to do that's your choice to make, hardly affects me after all... but let me pose your possible future situations for you." His gaze lidded slightly, "You can either live on in Shadowclan, walking among impurities, slowly watching it get tainted until you wither and die, cursed to watch its path of destruction continue from up in the stars..." He shrugged, then smirked slightly. "Or you can try to change it into the world you want to live in, do something no other cat has dared to do because of their weakness. If you perish to your trial, at least you never live with the regret of not trying..." He then gestured to the tom with a tail, quirking a brow "But if you're triumphant, you can watch your clan march on into glory, from both your mortal coil, and from the afterlife. The satisfaction of seeing your life's work is truly a glorious thing in my experience."

The tom smirked slightly. "There's also the third option. Banishment. If that happens though, you have two more choices... you could give up, wander around as the thing you despise, boiling with the rage of your failures. His eyes then lidded, something unreadably dark in them, "But you could also choose to continue on. Seize any opportunity to finish your holy crusade from the outside and keep fighting until you die for your cause or come out in victorious glory. Maybe simply because you want to see your clan ascend into greatness, maybe to just get back at them, who knows what you're feelings will be at that point." The mottled tom shrugged.

Of course, Tarot was leaving out so many more possibilities. Those were the main ones this amusing little warrior would want to grasp on to in the state he was in. He seemed to be constantly burning with rage... and for Tarot that was desirable, because it meant that, likely, his logic was hindered. If his manipulation didn't work though, it hardly mattered. He could walk away and never return to this spot to avoid being hunted down in the only place this clanner knew he'd be consistently. A fight could break out, in that case, Tarot would only try to leave a few good gashes before retreating. He wasn't going to die for this passing interest.

"With me assisting there's a higher chance of the favourable outcomes coming into fruition I'd say, but you could also try yourself, wherein you dying for your crusade, for something you believe in, is the more likely alternative.
Admittedly, that still has a slight chance of success, if you're the type to gamble. Both still end with fewer regrets than not trying at all though... wouldn't you say?" He cocked his head, reading a curious brow.

Then the loner blinked, consideration in his gaze as he examined the tom, noting his indecisiveness. "Of course you don't have to choose now, you know where I'll be if you come to a decision anyway." His tail twitched idly. "So... what do you say, Burningwing?"

Pfft, Burningwing. Why were clan cats so keen on giving their children such aggressive or violent names? So strange.

This is dirty... this is wrong... If cats could sweat, Burningwing would be drenched. As it was, his mouth opened just slightly as if he were hot, despite the chill in the air. He didn't know how visible it was, but he felt his legs quiver ever so slightly and his heart pounded. He hated this.... he hated how much sense this lowly beast was making. Even if he did agree to this... who would have to die first? Would it look more convincing if a pure Shadowclanner died first? Should he offer to go on a patrol with Frostgaze and let him be the first one? By the very nature of this deal he'd be breaking the code...

No. The rogues and the dirty bloods he could let die and it would be nothing to him... but to purposely let a pure Shadowclanner die... he couldn't allow that. He would simply have to show Frostgaze how wrong and stupid he was... the pale tom didn't need to die for this. Maybe that's where Burningwing would draw the line. At least he had one.

".... Fine." He breathed out the word... and as soon as it left his lips he felt like his heart had stopped. I can always get this rogue killed later... after he helps me with my work I will kill him and return his corpse to Shadowclan... triumphant. That seemed to settle his nerves. He stopped shaking and his parted maw finally closed.

"I can't make the killings too frequent and certainly not on a schedule or our deal will be obvious. I might offer you targets once a moon maybe, rather than every five days. I, on the other paw, will meet with you alone more frequently so you'll have a chance to tell me if things change." What an odd feeling this was... to feel so triumphant to finally have an answer to his problems and an ally willing to do the dirty work... and to simultaneously feel an abysmal emotion of guilt and shame.

Its for the good of Shadowclan... He reassured himself. His clan had become so foul and rotten inside that he felt he had no choice but to use corruption to fight corruption. If he ever decided he wanted out of this deal... well... he could always have an entire battle patrol come with him and "happen upon" Tarot's location. The idea of betraying the rogue after getting what he wanted made him feel better.

"No one would ever believe I struck a deal with a rogue... or loner. Whatever you feel you should be called. We have an agreement then, Tarot. I will bring them to you likely just as dawn peaks through the trees. Trust me when I say you don't want to fight a Shadowclanner at night." Not that he was giving true Shadowclanners to this wretched filth, but even the dumbest of beasts could learn some cheap imitation of what a real clan cat could do.

Tarot rose a brow as the tom agreed, mildly surprised that he had made no more protest. A flash of suspicion flitted through his violet hues. He merely nodded as the tom proposed a schedule apparently jumping right into it. His next few lines of comments made the loner huff. "If you don't want to differentiate between rogue and loner just call me an outsider. Then it's accurate either way." His tone was as dry as a drought as he said this, and he had to resist rolling his eyes. He was very unimpressed with this Shadowclanner's apparently lacking intelligence.

For a few moments, after the clan cat stopped talking, his expression became blank, his staring gaze studying Burningwing, as if peeling away the tom's pelt to find the treachery lurking in his mind. No, there was no doubt that this cat had the brains to even honour a simple deal.

He'd be sure to stay in the trees in the later steps of their little plan, he wasn't going o just be lounging in the clearing any longer, he'd seemingly emerge from the brush if he deemed the coast to be clear. Also, the fact that the Shadowclanner even had to warn against bringing the prey during the night was rather dumb. Tarot came here to sunbathe, which means he'd always be here during the day whenever he came.

No matter, he'd tell Klaus about his new deal then, at least then if he ever took too long to come back from his excursions here the rogue would know who's coat to flay.

"It's a deal then, Burningwing. I probably don't need to caution you against turning against me before the favour is fulfilled. After all...  it is quite rude to break deals, isn't it?" There was a dark undertone to his words, despite there seeming to be no threat stated within them. His eyes flashed with something ominous, but it was quickly erased and replaced with a humorous smile. "After the favour though you're free to do whatever you wish. Pin it all on me, hunt me to the ends of this world to ensure your new standing in Shadowclan for all I care. Doesn't matter, because after that you owe nothing to me." He shrugged, then yawned, rolling his shoulders.

Standing up then, the loner turned away, stalking into the brush with a few offhand words and a wave of his tail. "Farewell then, crusader."

After getting out of sight the mottled tomcat sped up into a dash, weaving through the brush to leave confusing scent patterns, and splashing in any puddles lingering from fall rainstorms. Upon crossing the thunderpath far away from the clan cat, he made his way back towards camp. It was time to groom in peace.