heart and feather [C]

A bolt of warm air rushed through SkyClan's stony forest, the clatter of branches echoing through in its wake. The scene was almost peaceful: everything was tipped in shades of orange, the sun's light just starting to fade, and the sounds of the breeze softened the quiet chattering of prey moving through the undergrowth. No patrols would be following that path for the rest of the evening, leaving the forest to begin its gradual descent into nighttime.

But then a pair of dark pawsteps went rushing through, shaking away any semblance of peace. Not long after, another cat tore by in their wake. Any quiet the land had earned was shot.

Newtspring was panting, hard, thundering paws shot through with numbness. Orchidmask had slipped out of camp– for a quiet hunt, maybe? –but when he'd risen to follow her, the last thing he'd seen was the whisking of her tail as she disappeared into the territory, ripping away from camp. It could have been anything, he tried to tell himself. Before his father had insisted no cats leave camp alone, he'd frequently step away from camp to race through the territory, just to feel the air through his fur, to feel the muscles in his legs working. But this... something about the sight of her disappearing made his stomach twist, the fur along his fur bristle. Something was wrong, horribly so, he could sense it.

Dimly, he was aware of the change in territory– the ground was softening, less stones digging into his pads. The Fallen Oak? She had no reason to be there. Then again, rarely did he, and yet he'd found himself there often. The knot in his gut tightened, churned; almost, he thought he would be sick. He forced his legs to work harder, to carry him faster. He was losing her.

Only vaguely he was aware of dark eyes watching him on his hunt. But they made no motion to intercept, so Newtspring rushed on wordlessly. If they wanted to bear witness to whatever would transpire, so be it– and if they wanted to drag him back to Dawnhawk, he would rip them to shreds as well he could before he allowed himself to be taken away.

The only sounds Orchidmask could hear as she ran were her running paws and pounding heart, formerly fluffy pelt tangled with briars and twigs from crashing through bushes in her haste to getaway.  Nothing specific had spurned this escape, aside from the current circumstances.  That evening, an overwhelming urge had come over the confused she-cat, one telling her to run and run and don't look back.  Moons of panic and stress had been let out at this moment, and she ran with all her strength towards the border.  Who knows where she was going, but all she knew what that she no longer wanted to be in SkyClan anymore, not with dead demons in charge and watching her every move.  She thought of Newtspring, perhaps she should've told him her spontaneous plan.  He would've gone with her, she knew he would.  It was too late now.

Finally, the she-cat skidded to a halt at the border of ThunderClan, breathing deeply as her paws shook from the effort of running at full speed for so long.  She still had farther to go, but she took one last look back at her home, the only place she had ever known.  Even if the Dark Forest had infected them, the trees still looked the same.  It was then though that she spotted him not far behind her, and her stomach dropped.  "N-Newtspring?!" Her voice was low and raspy, not loud enough for him to hear, but as she made eye contact with the tom she couldn't help but smile.  He'd followed her all the way out here at the risk of his own life...  Suddenly, the bushes nearby began to rustle, and Orchidmask jumped around with her fur bristling.  It was from the ThunderClan side...had they been discovered?

All it took was one movement. One moment for Starlingflare to recognize the chance that had fallen right in front of him. It was the chance he was waiting for, to finally indulge in his dark desires. He had kept an eye on the borders waiting on this moment, and it seemed now was the time.

As soon as the she-cat stopped, the gray tom stalked closer. His single gold eye on the she-cat. He saw her speak something but he wasn't sure what. It didn't matter, he wouldn't let this chance slip away from him, and as soon as he caused the bushes to rustle he struck.

The thunderclan tom burst forth from the brush, tackling the she-cat. His claws digging into her fur and skin, trying to cause some pain from the she-cat before he finally sank his teeth into her neck, deep enough to have her die quickly but not quickly enough that he couldn't enjoy her death. His yellow eye shining bright with joy as he relished in his kill. The warm blood dripping down his chin. He didn't care if the dark forest cats saw. As long as no one else did. That was all that mattered.

She saw him.

She saw him, and he saw her. It felt like it was just for a second; Newtspring's paws felt like they would tangle together, and something beyond him drew his legs up short, tripping over stone and fern as he slid to such an abrupt halt. This close, he could see her smile, teeth poking out. Her face lit up, just at seeing him. Nevermind the rattle of branches, he wanted to talk to her. Nothing had happened yet; he had time.

Orchidmask turned away from him, to look over the border, and panic lit through every nerve again. Orchid, hey, don't do that. Just look at me. He wanted to plead, but the words got caught in his throat. He couldn't explain it, he just knew if she looked away, she would–

Someone exploded from ThunderClan's side, barreling into Orchidmask. It all happened too fast, faster than Newtspring could fire his shot muscles into action. Claws bit through her thick fur, blood welling around them, and then teeth met with her throat. The second the cat let go, blood spilled from the wound, and its metallic scent flooded Newtspring's tongue. Then everything registered at once– one golden eye looked up from his kill, and despite the blood dripping off his chin, the dilute pelt clicked into familiarity. With a screech of rage, Newtspring finally kicked himself forward, ramming into Starlingflare with claws outstretched. "How dare you!" His bellow was torn with pain as he rolled Starlingflare into the earth, digging into his shoulders best he could. "What's wrong with you? You just sit here stalkin' the border an' kill anythin' that moves now, you bloody foxheart?"

It happened so fast, quicker than her tired body could react.  A silver tabby form leaped out at her, and suddenly her neck was burning with the worst kind of pain she'd ever felt in her life.  She hung, helpless, from the cat's jaws like a piece of prey, blue eyes so wide you could see the whites as her lungs struggled for breath.  Tears welled; where was Newtspring?  Was he seeing this?  She hoped, hoped so much, that he wasn't.  She didn't want him to be next.  Her vision was fading, darkness crawled at the edges.  When she was dropped to the ground, she couldn't move at all and she could barely feel the thick liquid that soaked her fur.  The last thought she felt was one of horror, as Newtspring's handsome dappled form, his kind face twisted in fury, lunged for her attacker.  No, no please, just run!  I want you to live, please...don't follow me.

Orchidmask's eyes closed and her body grew still, but there were no stars to greet her.

Or it wasn't as perfect as he thought. Oh well it didn't matter. As much as he didn't want to kill Newtspring, a cat he considered a close friend, he couldn't leave anyone alive to spread the tale of what he had done here today. "I'm sorry friend." His voice came out, but it didn't match his usual tone. It was more so a tone like he was enjoying this moment, like he loved having blood on his claws.

"I'm sorry that I can't let you live." He said with a slight chuckle edging his words. As much as he wanted to drag this out, he couldn't. There was always a chance that there were more coming after these two so he would finish the job here and now. Of course he was going to enjoy this just a little bit.

The gray tom pushed his skyclan friend off of him, ignoring his own wounds from the other's claws. He slashed at the tom, hoping to get some sounds of pain to relish in. Of course when there were a few wounds on the other, that is when he went in for the kill. He leapt forward, teeth sinking in the tom's neck, and holding until the other fell still, and when he did that is when Starlingflare let go.

His chest heaved with exertion from what he had done, but it was perfect. Well almost. It certainly satisfied what he needed. The yellow eyed tom let out a dark chuckle, relishing in the blood and the sounds of pain he had created.

--

After Starlingflare had collected himself, he began to get to work. He needed to cover his tracks, he just had to find the perfect think to do so. The tom began searching the area for any scents of predators, something to cover the Thunderclan scent before he remembered that cat that had companied him. The dark forest warrior could cover this. Their stench of death was something that could mask his own scent. Plus they were trying to leave right? It only made sense that the dark forest stopped them.

"Would you..?" He asked the other gray cat that rested in the brush.

At his question the dark forest cat stood up. Smokefang grinned. "Of course."