An Unfortunate Event (Closed)

During the leaf-fall, Scarletriver would go in the river after the dogs left and whenever it was warm enough to try to cover her scent so that soon, she could go into Thunderclan territory without smelling much like a Riverclan cat.  Now that a harsh leafbare was upon them, going in the river was harder which she did not appreciate.   Still, she wanted to head over to Thunderclan.  She did not like that not much seemed to be happening with what she had already done.  So, therefore, she needed to do more.  And, well, she was thinking that maybe killing a Thunderclan cat on their own territory might cause a reason for them to be concerned.

Of course, she was not so foolish as to just walk on their territory without trying to disguise herself first.  She rolled in mud from the melted snow and took different colored berries and squished it against her fur to change the color.  The scent of her fur was covered a bit by the mud and berries, which she hoped would be enough.

Now, it was time to go to Thunderclan territory.  She was going to hunt when she returned, as it was an excuse for being out.  However, she would not hunt of Thunderclan territory, she did not want to go against more of the code than needed in her mind.  She walked to the river, which was covered in a thin sheet of ice.  She placed one paw down on it, which caused it to crack a bit but not enough for her to fall through.  Her paws were very cold, which made it hard to leave them on the ice for a long time.  Her short fur did not really help either.

A few times the ice broke from under her paws, causing horrible cold water to surround her paws.  She hissed with pain when this this sudden change in temperature happened but pulled her paw out quickly and continued faster and got to the other side fairly quickly.

She ran over behind a tree and branches of a bush.  She got low and waited for a Thunderclan cat to come over.  She was near towards Riverclan territory still, so she could go back if none came.  But then she saw a cat walking around some fox lengths away from her.  Then, she realized that she had seen this cat before many times.  Every time there was a gathering in fact.  It was the leader of Thunderclan.

Perfect...

The member 'Little Ripped' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Invasion Dice' :

The river no longer held a sweet temptation. Its bright burbling and playful chuckles were quiet in leaf-bare, hidden by the ice and dulled into a dark whisper that promised only a cold embrace. Leaf-bare was when it was at its most dangerous and belligerent.

But that wasn't why Minkstar's heart felt heavy as his paws wandered in its general direction, following one of the paths through the forest. Ice brushed onto his pelt from arching fronds, brittle and browned from the frost. Bird calls echoed eerily in the still air, that odd muffled edge that snow always seemed to bring deadening the plaintive whistles. His steps were quiet from long practice, webbed paws adapted easily to the cold, squishy ground - much easier to move across than the marshes on RiverClan territory, which they had long forgotten.

At least it was warm enough that he could vaguely feel the ground, today. It took what little strength he could manage just to move silently, his mind feeling as dulled as his pelt and not up to the task of guessing what would and wouldn't make a sound. Tasting the air, he listlessly searched for any hint of prey scent, barely anything registering through the smothering taste of ice and damp forest. Nothing new, anyway. Maybe he would have fared better if he'd taken an entire patrol along with him, but he couldn't deal with the undercurrent of disappointment, the half-imagined tinge of accusation in every failure to add to the fresh-kill pile.

It was his fault. His fault. He'd done everything wrong. The words echoed through his mind before fading again, paws wandering aimlessly once more. The absence of feeling in his stomach wasn't nearly enough punishment. Not nearly enough.

He'd been chosen to lead, sure. That didn't mean he was good at it.

Shaking his head slightly, he tried to bring his thoughts back on track, realizing distantly that he'd wandered closer to the river than he'd intended as he paused, gazing through the undergrowth at a glimpse of the trail that led to its edge, snow-crusted ice glinting dully under the leaf-bare sky. It would probably snow later that day, from the feel of the wind starting to pick up once more and the clouds beginning to gather as they played catch-the-tail with the sun. A vague shiver ran down his spine, another twinge in his chest as he noted that this wasn't far from where Wolfblaze had died.

Turning his back on it, he padded off in the other direction, a quiet sigh breaking his silence. Perhaps if he could find something for his Clan, he could stop thinking in circles. A naively hopeful thought.

Scarletriver knew very well where she was near.  In truth, she had some nightmares about the other cat that she killed, of course she would not tell anybody that... even if she had someone to tell.  She was pretty lonely, no one had really noticed her much, even after everything that happened.  And it was not like she could ever tell anyone anything about it.  All of it was her secret, and it would stay that way.

She shook her head a bit at her own thoughts.  She could not think about any of that right now.  Stars, why was her mind like this?  She just needed to focus.  She needed to finish the mission that she gave herself.

The leader started to walk farther away from her.  This was her chance.  She stepped out of her hiding.  She had slow, careful movements, in hopes of getting closer without Minkstar noticing.  She tried to stay behind the brush, but with the fallen leaves and dead sad plants, it was very hard.  She got closer... and closer... and closer... until she rushed into a sprint.

Scarletriver leaped quickly on the side of Minkstar.  She dug her claws in his side and climbed up his fur till she got on top of him.  Her claws dug deeply into his fur, so if he thrashed around, she would not fall.  She was at the back of his neck, preventing him from biting her or being able to attack her well.

Putting her head towards his ear, she whispered, "Isn't this fate?" She made her voice lower and tried to change it as much as she could.  She also tried to make herself sound older than she was.  "You dying near the place where you, oh mighty Thunderclan leader, left your wounded warrior to die?  You know you could have saved her if you would have just stayed!"

Her mouth than moved to where his neck met his head.  She bit down as deep as she could.  Her teeth went through all layers of skin, through muscles, and towards the bone.  She quickly released her teeth from him and leaped off his back.  The leader was losing blood quickly, no doubt would die fast too.

"Your friend Jaystar sent me."  Of course, this could not be further from the truth, but Minkstar did not need to know that.  She would wait until the life was complete gone from the leader, then she would quickly make her way back to Riverclan camp, where she would continue life as normal.

Scarletriver used Killing Strike on Minkstar.

Opening his mouth to scent the air, the breeze whipping around and blowing into his face, he sought out some hint of prey, some trace of warm flesh he could bring back. Not for himself, no matter how much he salivated at the thought, a brief pang of dizziness fuzzing the edges of his vision before he shook it away. He had seven lives - he could afford to lose one from starvation. Yet still nothing met his senses.

Until... something... changed.

It took him a while to truly note that something wasn't right; a tingle on the back of his neck, a whisper on the edge of thought. For just a moment, his paws hesitated, the overwhelming feeling that he was being stalked like prey blooming to awareness with a faint, untrained rustle disturbing the forest. Claws slid from their sheathes as he started to turn, instincts screaming at an abrupt crackle, the quiet broken in one violent moment of snapping undergrowth.

Pain blossomed with an explosive hiss, his muscles arching, body twisting too late. Foxdung! Wha- Except that he couldn't, limbs trembling, collapsing, weakness drawing the strength he'd once held from him like water through sand. Terror.

He hit the ground. Hard. Hoped it would throw this... whoever they were off his back. Cat. Definitely cat, a gritted hiss grating at his ears, the voice of a nightmare and not someone real, someone living. Claws dug painfully into his fur, gripping at flesh, his yowl a choked-off, gasping thing, the ploy failing like most endeavours in his life. "No!" The words were straight from every thought, every short-lived nightmare.

How did this monster know? This was too real for a nightmare, the scent of mud and rotting things thick and heavy, choking the breath from his malnourished, wheezing lungs, thick red droplets welling on his skin, heat awakening and pumping through his veins. A sick, desperate heat. A cold, sick coil in his stomach.

A raw, throat-ripping, grunting cry tore muffled into the frozen air, whether at the pain, whether at the fear, whether at the taunting - he didn't know. It choked, strangled, when knives dove into the back of his neck, white-hot agony driving deep, words echoing in his ears exploding into glittering shards as red welled up.

No no no.

His sight had gone dark, his limp body pressed heavy into the ground, a swimming shadow looming above with maliciously glowing eyes that seemed to morph with the amber ones of a fox. His breath gurgled in his throat, a monumental effort, a twisting churn of fury, fear - a desire to know. "Why? What did she..." He could taste bitter copper in his mouth. Not good. "-Did she ev-ever do to you?" Dancing, flickering white spots, his spine consumed with white fire. If he could have thrashed, his paws would be churning the ground. The most he could manage was a weak twitch, head lolling. "...did we ever... do...?"

The world was constricting, his chest tightening, his heart labouring, red spilling from his veins, sensation fading. Darkness loomed, beckoned, his teeth gritted to hang on just one moment more, to fight, to stay alive, to hope that someone had been nearby, had heard, would come. His limbs scrabbled desperately at the ground, a desperate heave dragging him up before he flopped back again, dimming. Was this was Wolfblaze had felt?

Helpless, gasping air tinged with red bubbles, he felt his heart labour for one last beat, stutter, and fall numb.

Felt himself desperately try to hold together, to cling, and be swept away.

Saw the last flicker of light go out.

Minkstar has died.

Sad songs because sad songs