[Insidious]

He was finally an apprentice. His days in the nursery were behind him now, leaving him with a prideful position nearest the front of the apprentice's den. Tonight, as the stars glistened against the blanket of black, Crimsonpaw was content to remain inside his warm nest, pale green eyes intently observing the patterns that swirled above – all formations varying with how the constellations lay. A quick glance over his red-black-spotted shoulders informed him that the rest of the apprentices were asleep. Briefly, his gaze lingered upon the ebony formation of Onyxpaw. His siblings had entered apprenticeship at his side beneath Lionstar's golden smile. However, this next step closer to broader maturity didn't fully convince the tom-cat that Onyxpaw would be ready to depart with the kit-like pranks she once played. Next, his eyes focused on the sleeping figure of Copperpaw. It was like looking at a mirror image of himself when he found his gaze resting upon his brother, which was weird. He sometimes wondered if anything would be different, had he and Copperpaw not been identical in colour. It was a pointless though to have, though. Surely, appearance didn't effect how one was treated.

“Given the late hour, you should be asleep by now, Crimsonpaw.”
Ears perked upward in alarm, Crimsonpaw's head swinging frontwards to put a familiar face to the unexpected words that had caught him entirely off guard. Grayowl. Crimsonpaw hadn't had nearly as much time as he would have liked to spend with the charcoal warrior that had fascinated him during his kit-hood. During his ceremony, Crimsonpaw had been admittedly jealous of Onyxpaw for receiving him as her mentor – for a moment, he considered that he had come to visit Onyxpaw, perhaps for some late night training. Straightening in his seated stance, Crimsonpaw offered Grayowl a faint smile, pale green matching the dark gold he had been so deprived of lately. “I know. I wasn't tired, though. I thought if I looked at the stars long enough, I'd eventually just fall asleep.”
The bleakness of Grayowl's expression forced Crimsonpaw's heart to skip a beat. Why would he care about the fact that I was star-gazing? Mouse-brained. Mouse-brained. However, he quickly silenced his thoughts upon Grayowl's dark gray jaw slowly slipping apart, shuffling his red paws anxiously as he peered up at the tom he had considered a role model since their first encounter. “No use in wasting your time in the den if you possess no desire for slumber. Follow me.”

It took a few seconds for Grayowl's words to fully sink in. Once they did, however, Crimsonpaw awkwardly shuffled into a standing position from where he obediently followed at the charcoal warrior's heel. “Where are we going?” From the looks of it, Grayowl was leading him out of camp. For a moment, Crimsonpaw wondered just what Grayowl had planned to be doing in the forest so late. But, the rapid smack of the older tom's dark gray tail against the tip of Crimsonpaw's muzzle made his jaw clamp shut forcefully, receiving his wordless message loud and clear. Be quiet.

Crimsonpaw wasn't sure how long they had been walking. Surely, they were far enough away from camp by now that he could ask. Still, Crimsonpaw couldn't find the courage to do so. Not once did Grayowl peer over his lean shoulders toward the following apprentice – he probably knew that Crimsonpaw wouldn't fall behind. Being incredibly devoted to impressing the TreeClan warrior, Crimsonpaw was pleased at the self-created analogy that Grayowl possibly had higher expectations for him; expectations he would surely fulfill, even if it killed him in the process.

Abruptly, Grayowl halted, causing Crimsonpaw to nearly collide with his hind legs. Crimsonpaw leaned to the left, sparing a glance around Grayowl's frame to see what had caused them to stop. Narrowing his pale green gaze against the darkness that wished to deprive him from sight, he instead used his sense of smell, his nasal cavities greeted by a scent that didn't smell of any clan he had scented before. “What's going on, Grayowl?” The silence was killing him. Crimsonpaw had to know why Grayowl had brought him so far from camp. Of course, he trusted the ominous warrior with all of his being. But, for the briefest moment, his heart rate increased – he was scared.

After absorbing Grayowl's still-as-stone stance for nearly as long as he could handle, the warrior at last pivoted, facing the red-black-spotted apprentice and fixating him with a dark gold gaze that radiated utmost seriousness. “When you were a kit, I suspected you amongst the rest, to be the most prized. Even now – after I have gotten the chance to train Onyxpaw – my opinion has not been altered. You show the greatest potential. You show the greatest... capability to handle what reaches beyond standard apprenticeship.”
Crimsonpaw straightened pridefully, moved by the praise Grayowl placed upon him. Although the warrior's words gifted him with a brand of golden confidence, he was confused as to their origin. Beyond standard apprenticeship? “What reaches beyond standard apprenticeship?” He couldn't stop himself from asking; he was intrigued of the dark gray cat before him; devoted to unlocking a piece of his mystery.

Grayowl flashed a smile, one that caused Crimsonpaw's fur to crawl with a mixture of anticipation and fear. “The clans deprive their youth from a breath-taking sensation. One of power; supremacy. The hunt has two branches, only one branch exposed during standard training. There is hunting for the clan. And, there is hunting for yourself; for pleasure.” Grayowl, with a phantasmal grace, stood from his seat and twisted frontward. “Tonight, we hunt for pleasure.” Grayowl slipped forward, the darkness of his fur pigmentation harmonizing with the shadows of moon-lit foliage. Crimsonpaw, in a frantic attempt to not get lost at such a distance from camp, followed without further hesitation. The full meaning of Grayowl's words was not yet understood. Another quick absorption of the unfamiliar scent, however, told him that whatever was nearby... wasn't of a different species.

The scent drew closer the farther the duo traveled; Crimsonpaw continuing to inhale it in hopes of recognizing something, anything. Grayowl halted once again, ducking so close to the terrain it looked as if his limbs would give out. Immediately believing to have reached their destination, Crimsonpaw crawled forward on buckled legs, placing himself at Grayowl's flank to be able to witness what had caused him to stop. A cat. For the life of him, the face she had could not be identified as someone he had met before. Crimsonpaw looked to Grayowl for guidance; for information. Grayowl's gaze, however, was fixated upon her slender, brown tabby body – an unusual glaze Crimsonpaw couldn't quite pinpoint highlighting the deep amber. Grayowl matched Crimsonpaw's pale green eyes after a moment, nodding his head to the red-black-spotted apprentice before increasing his height once more, slipping forward to reveal himself to the grooming she-cat.

“Lights out, my dear.”

All it took for Crimsonpaw to recognize the malice of Grayowl's intentions was the sheathing of the warrior's claws, aimed so precisely for the she-cat's head – alarm lacing her expression before an ear-piercing screech caused Crimsonpaw's ears to lay flat. Pale green eyes fluttered shut, his heart threatening to burst from his chest given the full extent of the situation. Death. Someone was dieing. Dieing at the grip of Grayowl's claws. For a moment, Crimsonpaw considered bolting – escaping to TreeClan to inform Lionstar of this treachery. The scent of blood wafting over his black nose offered a momentary distraction, however. Peeking behind his shut eyelids, Crimsonpaw peered at the scenario that lay before him.

A bloody mess lay mauled upon the ground, the neck of a feline split open by the vigorous puncture of sharp claws – various wounds decorating her stomach and legs. Grayowl turned toward him – the blood cloaking his jaw undeniable – a terrible smile curving his jaw into a grin Crimsonpaw never thought he was capable of sporting. Grayowl jerked his head, lulling Crimsonpaw forward. Before he could deny the request, his limbs readily obeyed. He couldn't avert his pale green stare from the she-cat who's beautiful, brown tabby fur had been stained a horrid red. His limbs threatened to collapse, forcing Crimsonpaw into an awkward sit. Gaze shifted from the prey, to the predator, eyes vivid with unlawful curiousity. “For pleasure?” Were the two words Crimsonpaw offered: voice flat and lowly toned as he recalled Grayowl's earlier statement.
Grayowl inclined his neck, dipping it into a firm nod. “This is why only you were invited, Crimsonpaw. Only you can see this for its true beauty. Try it for yourself.” Grayowl, coated in the blood of another, gestured Crimsonpaw to the corpse – eager for the apprentice to witness the sadistic glory for itself. Crimsonpaw was only hesitant for a moment, gaze radiating skepticism as he slowly stood, nearing with a caution he never knew himself to possess. Grayowl was his role model – he chose Grayowl when he had been nothing more than an adolescent at best. This was beyond what he had expected from the charcoal warrior, but still, he was Crimsonpaw's chosen role model. His fondness of the tom had been questioned, but not entirely lost. Grayowl trusted Crimsonpaw with a part of his life; a part that if Crimsonpaw shared, could get him banished from TreeClan. Grayowl trusted him, therefore, Crimsonpaw had to trust Grayowl as well. He could do this for him. He could try it.

Crimsonpaw swallowed his hesitation, sheathing small claws and raising a wary paw. He pressed the under-paw to an untouched body part – the she-cat's hind leg – hooked the fur, and pulled. Clumps of brown tabby stripes were shredded in the process, the fur untangling to release trickles of blood. As the hue of his fur – the colour he had once considered to be red – was engulfed by the tabby's blood; the blood of an entirely different feline... a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. Reaching her mid-thigh, the apprentice released his paw from the flesh, shaking it in mid-air to watch spare droplets of red fall: colour the green grass crimson. Immediately, his sights set upon a section he knew would be bloodier; messier. The middle of her stomach was hooked, repeating the former shred, but with more force and a deeper puncture. And for a moment, Crimsonpaw was struck by awe as swirls of red took over the brown she-cat's body.

A low purr struck Crimsonpaw's thoughts, the red-black-spotted apprentice turning his head backward to witness Grayowl looming far closer than he thought him to be, a devilish grin spilling through the dried red staining his muzzle. “One day, you will witness the situation at its best. Forcing the injuries. Forcing death. But you must not tell a soul. You must keep my secret, our secret.” It wasn't visible, but the tom processed a nod of approval. He wouldn't tell anyone of the events that occurred: not Onyxpaw, Copperpaw, nor Lionstar or Daringheart. It was no longer a solitude of treachery for the charcoal warrior; Crimsonpaw would be at his side with a new respect. Onyxpaw doesn't know what she's missing. It was a cruel thought for his mind to possess, but given she had Grayowl as a mentor and Crimsonpaw knew more of him than she ever would – it seemed Lionstar had gifted Grayowl with the wrong cat. Onyxpaw wouldn't be able to respect him like Crimsonpaw could. Or, perhaps that was merely his thoughts beginning to turn darker – in favoritism of Grayowl and Crimsonpaw's newly tied relationship.

Grayowl had lead him into the darkness of night with curious wonder and an open, innocent mind. Now, they would both return – the darkness clouding his head; beginning to mutate his veins.