[Phoenix]

Whiteshade

- - -

The last time he had entered StarClan’s Claws of his own accord, he had stumbled upon an intriguing loner, with whom he had crossed paths more recently. While the pitch black she-cat had occupied his musings for longer than most, he had not retraced his steps with the intent of finding her once more. If they happened to meet a third time, he would almost accuse her of following him. But the whole business mattered little; it was only as significant as he allowed it to be, and though he was partial to the mind games they played whenever they conversed, the loner was hardly more significant than any other feline he met.

Alabaster paws stepped delicately over an equally white ground, the hints of New-Leaf having just been forced back by an overnight snowfall that left the air cold and crisp, which was interrupted only by the small, lingering clouds that left his parted jaws. He did not hesitate as he stepped across LightningClan’s intangible border and entered the neutral area where every clan’s territory met. Limber, he leapt easily onto the large border usually reserved only for leaders. As he sat, tucking his tail neatly around his paws, he allowed his gaze to wander, crimson eyes idly scanning the bare landscape before him. Because the sun still hung low in the pastel sky, LightningClan’s devil hardly expected company. He had come, perhaps, to simply marvel at the peace and quiet that was so rarely found while amongst a clan. A bird cry shattered the silence, and without any other acknowledgement of the interruption, he flicked an ear in the direction of the sound. Perhaps not.

Then, abruptly, he turned. Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as they focused on one of the many neighboring territories. For a moment, unsheathed claws clicked lightly on the rough stone beneath his pads as their owner shifted slightly, gaze locked on the activity he had seen. Sheathing his claws in a fluid motion, he unwound his tail from around his paws, letting it flick lightly through the air behind him as he rose from his sitting position, facing the presumed feline who had likewise decided that StarClan’s Claws made an acceptable refuge at dawn.

- - -

[Deleted]

a s h l i g h t

warrior, nightclan

Ashlight had woken early in the day, the crisp air drawing her out of a warm, restful slumber. The emptiness of the fresh-kill pile and her stomach caused her to form a little patrol of one, seeking the scent of prey. Her wanderings had brought her down to the edge of NightClan territory. The snow around crisped lightly underfoot, collapsing with every step and sending a chill up her paws. She really didn't like snow. It was cold, wet, and white. The latter being her biggest problem.

Dark grey fur contrasted very sharply with the freshly fallen snow, making it almost impossible for her to hunt. She growled in frustration and decided to abandon her quest for food and allowing her paws to take her wherever they desired. She left her mind to wander, allowing it to drift along the gentle breezes that rustled her fur and stirred the flakes.

She looked up suddenly, finding herself on the other side of StarClan's Claws and staring at a red-eyed feline on the leader's rock.

"Hello, Whiteshade," she meowed loudly, raising her voice for the tom to hear her. "What brings you to the Claws?"

[Phoenix]

Whiteshade

- - -

It had long since ceased to surprise him that every cat he came upon seemed to know his name. Had he cared, he might have been flattered at it, but at the very least, the circumstance could be attributed very easily to his unique appearance, which was shared only by his sister. However, while others might recall his name with relative ease, he could not reciprocate the action. Very few of the numerous clan cats – bar those of his own clan – he met made enough of an impression upon him that he would care to remember their names. The dark gray she-cat standing below him did not belong to that very select group.

”Good morning,” The alabaster devil greeted genially, lips masterfully curving upward into a warm smile. Tail flicking lightly he turned briefly away before leaping from his perch, landing with the grace of one completely and confidently in control. ”Ah, please forgive me, but I am afraid that I do not recall your name.” His expression turned apologetic as he inclined his head in a slight nod. The she-cat stunk of NightClan’s marshes, that distinct and overwhelming stench practically radiating from her dark fur, but charmer that he was, he carefully shielded his disgust under layers of practiced pleasantry. With habits such as his, that particular talent became a necessity for survival, and after so many moons, he wielded the skill like a weapon. ”I have never been very good at remembering names,” The warrior offered as an explanation, grimacing slightly.

He drew closer, the killing intent that flowed through him like blood unusually tucked away and out of reach. StoneClan’s ferocious battle to regain their territories had temporarily sated the monster curled within him, and in any case, reason told him that the chances of him attacking the NightClan she-cat and getting away with it were very slim. His scent would have given everything away, and there was no sign of any approaching rain to wash away the evidence. But that did not mean that he could not play his games. While she would have had every right to be on her guard against LightningClan’s devil, he approached her with the comfortable ease of one fully confident in his belief that there was little she could do to harm him. The same laws that restricted his actions applied to her – perhaps even more than to him, given his bloodthirsty inclinations.

Stopping before her, he sat, and his tail came to wrap delicately around his paws. ”The same as you, I expect,” He answered her question politely. ”I find that I enjoy the peacefulness of the early morning, and StarClan’s Claws have always held a special place in my heart.” The lies slipped through his teeth like water through unsheathed claws as he smiled slightly at her, the epitome of charming.

- - -

[Deleted]

a s h l i g h t

warrior, nightclan

"I'm Ashlight of NightClan," the dark she-cat mewed sweetly, watching him as he drew closer. As much as she was curious, part of Ashlight reminded her that Whiteshade wasn't called a devil for nothing. While she tried to keep her wariness at bay, some slipped through. Her motions became that of a cornered prey, and her body tensed up without her realizing it. She tracked the tom's movements, following him sharply as he drew closer to her.

Could she attack him? Ashlight certainly wasn't a fragile feline. She was powerful, of sound mind and body, and the massive muscles made her almost larger than the tom before her. She didn't doubt her own abilities; what she lacked in finesse she made up for in ferocity. But this tom before her was a breed apart; he was lanky, yes, but dangerous. 

Ashlight shook her head to clear it as Whiteshade sat before her, responding to her inquiry.


”The same as you, I expect. I find that I enjoy the peacefulness of the early morning, and StarClan’s Claws have always held a special place in my heart.”

The pleasant tones in his voice dispelled any fears that had wormed their way into her conscience. He was charming, he was kind, and he seemed normal. Maybe that was the weirdest thing of all. She found it difficult to look him in the eyes, but otherwise he was just like any other cat. Perhaps all he sought was the peace of the morning to get away from the rumors that danced around the valley.

"This place truly is magnificent," Ashlight mused, eyes searching the early morning sky above. "The snow always makes things beautiful, but I find it just isn't practical." She licked her chest fur self-consciously, noting the stark contrast between her dark fur and the pristine fluff around her. Leaf-bare was her least favorite season for this very reason: she became useless to the Clan as the prey ran from her black coat and she would be easily seen in any attack. Ashlight finally relaxed, the tension released from her body and her cautionary awareness dropped. Whiteshade wasn't that bad, after all.