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Post by Insidious on Jun 16, 2014 22:15:44 GMT -5
Silentkit Supposedly, the kits of the various clans were obligated to remain firm upon their limitations. He had been reasonably apt at keeping himself at quite the distance from his new clan-mates, able to witness their innocence, their playfulness, and their curiosities be fulfilled by taking mere steps outside of the nursery they called home. All of them were such giddy creatures, rather disturbing, too, in the endless supplies of maturity that they lacked. Their voices never stopped fluttering from their tiny jaws in such high pitched, ear splitting squeals. If this represented what it meant to live in a clan, then he wasn’t entirely certain whether or not it was his preference over the isolation he had once had in the unclaimed. With exceptional ease, the small grayish-white kitten with a blackened face mask slipped free from the nursery’s confinement. Riversong was not currently present to be keeping her watchful eyes glued to him, and so he was able to escape without crossing the minds of any.
The outside was far more exhilarating. Here, he felt as though the cries of kittens could not reach him, and he was therefore left to his peace to do as he pleased. He remained mindful to stay close to dens as he traveled, for if he was to simply waltz into the center of camp where everyone could see him, then he would surely be shooed back to the nursery where he apparently belonged. He had no intentions of going back to that cramped place, and the mere thought of doing so sent an unpleasant shiver down the length of his tiny spine. Of course, a small portion of him felt bad for breaking the rules. Hawkstar had been kind, if not extremely generous, in allowing an outsider to stay and grow alongside them. And, there was no doubt in his mind that Riversong would be sent into a frenzy of worry if to return to the nursery and see that the kitten she was now responsible for was nowhere in sight. He paused, briefly, in this his momentary burden, before pushing himself to press onward. Riversong would be okay as soon as she knew that he had not went far, and Hawkstar would be proud of his willingness to step out into the world and begin acting as what they called apprentices. Everyone else? Well he did not know of any other faces in particular, and so it was not to be any of his concern. Yes, he was certain of it. These thoughts all made perfect sense, and such made his rebellious act completely acceptable.
For a kitten, his sense of smell was perhaps a little more efficient at grasping onto things that did not belong when in comparison to the StoneClan kits’ that had yet to truly test their senses. He had always walked on foreign lands, flanked closely by his father, and he had therefore experienced what clan life sheltered from their young. And so with such a decaying aroma loosely mingled with the StoneClan air, Silentkit slipped into the bordering foliage and returned with an indecent specimen collected in his jaw. He positioned himself directly at the foot of the shrubbery that had just enveloped him, intrigue alight in his pale blue eyes as he examined the deceased mammal of flight: wings angled sharply, feathers scattered messily, and blood littering various specifications of its once living body. A diminutive claw gently prodded the carcass, ensuring his racing mind that there was no traces of life left within it and, therefore, it would not feel any pain. A sigh of relief escaped him, newly feeling as though the acts to come were now somehow appropriate given the creature’s state of health.
Oddity inscribed within each forwardly inching of his paw, the kitten, something of what was meant to be incorruptibility and youthful purity, hooked the gruesome flesh and began to perform delicate incisions so that he may peer upon what lay inside. Inwardly, he apologized to the bird. He felt terrible that its life was destined to come to this, and should it have been alive, he would have most certainly spared it such agony. However, it was not living, and such made it viewable from his curious eyes as an offering to fulfill his limitless wonder. It would all be over soon for the poor body, but until then he could not help himself from being consumed in the sheer beauty of something otherwise sickening.
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Post by Fate Admin on Jun 20, 2014 23:42:48 GMT -5
Dappled light shone through jagged and random cracks and holes in the stones like sunlight filtering through leafy branches. Dark shaded fur blended well with the shadows that fell constant inside the jumbled rock pile that StoneClan called their camp. Fiery orange orbs flashed like fire from the darkest hollows as Blacksmoke shifted, drifted about the edges of camp as though a pariah in her own Clan. Like fire her gaze burned through the shadows, seeking and ravenously consuming every detail. Nothing could escape.
Apprentices practiced their crouching outside their den, critiquing each other, offering advice and tips their own mentors had previously passed on to them, or simply making it up as they went in attempt to impress their friends and rivals. Warriors gathered for patrol, coming and going, stocking prey upon the freshkill pile. Elders lounged and gossiped about exaggerated stories of the past when times were always harder and apprentices always better mannered. In the midst of all the normal commotion of camp, a single kit slipping from the nursery to explore easily went unnoticed… by all but Blacksmoke.
She made no move to return the wayward kit to the nursery. While kits were generally forbidden from leaving camp, most certainly without their mother or some other warrior escort, there was nothing amiss with a kit exploring the camp. Even had this kit managed to escape the confines of camp without being noticed, Blacksmoke would not likely be inclined to bring it back, instead preferring to observe its progress and also to ensure its safety in its exploration of the outside world without unnecessary interference. Curiosity was something Blacksmoke placed high value upon; she would never attempt to quell it.
Ears angled forward, Blacksmoke watched as the kit found a bird of some sort and began a most curious task for a kit. The shadows deepened and shifted as the dark she-cat stalked around the edges of camp, closer to the kit in question, to peer down at him with her ever intense ember gaze, her head tilted ever so slightly. “The Code forbids such things, little one,” her voice seemed little more than a warning whispered on a passing breeze, surprisingly indifferent rather than angry or disgusted, as one might expect.
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Post by Insidious on Jun 21, 2014 13:37:15 GMT -5
Silentkit Despite the grotesque manner through which he continued to tear at the rotting flesh, his eyes glimmered like pale sapphires, mesmerized, fascinated even, by something so utterly horrid. Blackening blood began to pump from some of the more prominent wounds he had inflicted, and he considered the way that it spilled across the stony terrain, filling all of the unorganized cracks, as being a form of dance that, perhaps, no feline other than himself would know how to appreciate. He had been so completely focused on his . . . art that a StoneClan warrior’s approach had managed to evade any of his senses. Even as the she-cat loomed above him, her dark orange eyes sparkling as though both of her irises were filled with crackling flames, he didn’t pay any mind to her presence until her words, whispered as though a message meant for the wind alone, attacked his ears.
The small kitten might as well have jumped right out of his fur. He took a wobbly step, a guilty step away from the destroyed corpse of the bird, wanting nothing more than to curl himself into a tight ball and shield himself from what he believed to be some form of pending danger. His ears were pinned against his skull, whitish-blue eyes widened as far as they’d go. The kitten didn’t so much as blink, unable to look anywhere other than at the black shape that had witnessed his indecent crime. He didn’t understand why she wasn’t yelling at him. Surely such things weren’t permitted in this clan? Of course, every fibre of his body was one hundred percent grateful. He didn’t know if he’d be able to tolerate somebody getting angry with him. He understood that it wasn’t ordinary for somebody his age to be willing to get their claws covered with the thickness of blood, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to stop. Even as the she-cat remained calm, refraining from giving him the scolding that he expected, he didn’t relax. How did he know that he could trust her? How did he know that she wouldn’t go running to Hawkstar as soon as she could to spread news of the menace for a kitten Riversong had brought in?
This feline, Blacksmoke as he knew not to be her name, was the first StoneClan resident outside of Riversong and Hawkstar that he was meeting. He didn’t believe that the other kittens in the nursery counted for anything. Obviously he didn’t talk to them - nobody wanted to interact with the outsider, the cat of clanless blood, and it didn’t help that he was this useless kitten without the ability to speak. Or so they all thought. He was the strange one, according to the latest nursery gossip. He had been thankful for this breath of fresh air - he never knew how much he could dislike something until he spent so much time crammed inside that tiny space - but now, underneath the intense, watchful eyes of this clan warrior, he wanted to run back into hiding so that he’d never have to face her again. Time continued to pass, and the whitish-gray kitten, muddy brown markings drawn across the features of his face, remained frozen in place; completely submissive. There likely had never been a sight in clan history quite so sad. His innocent eyes looked to her as though they didn’t share the same clan, but instead, he expected her to lash out with a raised paw and rake it across his small head as consequence. Maybe he deserved something along those lines. He was so different from all of his nursery mates. Riversong had made a mistake bringing this one in with her. He was nothing but trouble, and yet how could he be with such an adorable face?
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Post by Fate Admin on Jun 22, 2014 16:19:48 GMT -5
Blacksmoke laved her tongue briefly over one forepaw, drawing it over her ear once, and then once more as she stared down at the guilty and rather frightened looking kit. Her pointed ears twisted and swiveled, following the various sounds that drifted about camp to glean what information she could about the goings ons of her Clanmates whilst her eyes were otherwise occupied. She settled onto her belly, hugging the shadows with her form and draping her tail along the ground and slightly around the kit, offering some camouflage from prying eyes.
She had heard the others speak of this kit. Riversong had brought him into the Clan and he had yet to speak a word to any cat. They said he was mute, incapable of speech, for what kit wouldn’t be able to speak by now? He didn’t appear to be deaf, however, as was proven by the way he had jumped at her words. She glanced over the bird he had been so intently tearing apart, “If you are to be a part of StoneClan, you must learn the Code.” She turned her ember gaze back to him passively, “Scoldings and punishments await you if you break the Code in sight of Clanmates.” The tip of her tail flicked against his kitten soft fur, “If your curiosity lies outside the Code, then I suggest you keep it outside of camp. When you’re old enough, that is.” She lowered her head to be eye level with the kit.
Blacksmoke followed the Code loosely. Most of it made sense. The bit about prey? She wasn’t so concerned about that. What was dead was dead, what happened to it after was of little consequence. If some kit wanted to sharpen his claws on a long dead bird what business was it of anyone else’s? Silentkit had, however, looked a bit more intent in his ministrations to the bird than simply sharpening his claws, but as the kit apparently could not speak, it was impossible for Blacksmoke to say just what the little tom had been hoping to accomplish. “Learn the Code and guard your curiosity against it.” Her gaze narrowed slightly as she raised her head from his level, “The Code is often unfriendly to questions and curiosity.” Like that pesky ‘Leader’s word is law’. She respected Hawkstar well enough, but if he made a foolish decision she wasn’t about to blindly follow simply because he got ‘star’ tacked on to his name. Her tail flicked again, dismissing the thought, “What will you do with it? Leave it here, mangled, to be discovered? Your scent is all over it.” She gazed curiously down at the kit, wondering if he had even thought about it.
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Post by Insidious on Jun 28, 2014 13:01:46 GMT -5
S I L E N T K I T As the black feline lowered herself to the ground, letting her tail fall behind the tom-kit, he relaxed ever so slightly - reminded of Riversong and the way she often guided him with such a gesture. He knew that Riversong would never do anything to hurt him, so it was simple enough to calm down once he was able to make a connection between her and this unfamiliar warrior. The young kitten was hardly paying attention as the she-cat spewed into some kind of lecture about the code. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his rather . . . mutilated prey. How was he supposed to satisfy his craving, and ease the minds of his new clan-mates at the same time? He could very well have went ahead and discovered a preference for feline flesh - was it that bad for him to seek out dead animals in a cat’s place? He didn’t want to cause harm to anyone.
Why did all of this have to be so confusing? All he needed was a sign from someone, a sign telling him what he could do. If ripping things apart, even dead things, wasn’t allowed then someone could say the word and maybe he’d be able to stop. He’d always feel the urge, but stopping was better than getting into trouble for it. Yet, here this she-cat stood, telling him that when he was older and allowed to leave the camp, he’d have better luck at doing as he pleased with corpses in places where he wouldn’t be spotted. Was she trying to tell him that it was okay? Did she like to dig inside of dead bodies, too? Curiously, the kitten averted his baby blue eyes towards her own ember coloured ones, waiting for further instruction. He didn’t want to get caught by someone less forgiving, which meant that he had to listen to Blacksmoke and get rid of the body: but where could he put it? Frantically, he looked over his shoulders and examined some of the nearby shrubbery. Could he bury it deep inside of the ground somewhere inside of that bush? It might still kind of smell like something had died, and like Silentkit had been near that something that had died, but it’d take someone with a particular kind of determination to uncover it and get him in trouble. He assumed, or rather hoped, that no warrior would take that kind of time from their day.
Cautiously, Silentkit padded away from where Blacksmoke loomed overhead, thrusting his paws into the dirt just inside the cover of the bush and peeling back layer after layer of dirt. Obviously, the hole was rather small, and it took longer than he would have liked to get even remotely deep enough for what he had planned. He stopped about halfway through, turning once again to look at Blacksmoke and see if she thought what he was doing would work. If not, hopefully she’d be willing to give him an idea. He would take her advice to heart so that, if ever was he caught in a similar situation again, he’d know what to do. He liked to believe that there were others in StoneClan that would be like Blacksmoke: not so easily swayed by the code, and therefore forgiving of Silentkit’s peculiar doings and willing to assist him in keeping it a secret from those of StoneClan that would care. But, for now, he didn’t need anyone other than this she-cat. She had made it clear to him that he didn’t need to be ashamed by what he was doing. As long as he could cover up the evidence, and nobody could prove that he had been doing it in the first place, then he didn’t have to try and stop himself. It was wonderful!
Now, it was only a matter of how long he could be satisfied by the non-living.
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