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Post by Insidious on Jan 19, 2016 19:57:40 GMT -5
He was very good at hiding, but only because he was very good at talking.
It required a lot of talking - mostly to himself, but a little to the trees, too, when the wind seemed to rustle through the leaves too loudly - to keep himself from closing the distance between them, holding her close, breathing in her scent, and positively melting whenever he met her pretty eyes. He hadn't the slightest clue what she was doing out here, away from camp, by herself, but he liked to think she knew, somewhere deep down, that he was here with her, and that he would never leave her. They neared the TreeClan border, Ravenstar just ahead, purposeful, as she was in everything she did, and Sandviper just behind, staying in the shadows, watching her, catching his breath with every step she took.
Because she was not alone - not that she ever had been.
What was said between those two didn't reach his ears. He couldn't risk getting any closer, lest the TreeClan tom, Bloodtalon, if memory served him right, looked over Ravenstar's head - a rather small feat to accomplish - and saw him. He didn't move, because common sense could even register in the mind of a maniac, but staying still did nothing to quell the quiet storm that burned in his chest. That tom didn't deserve to carry a conversation with NightClan's leader. That tom was worthless. That tom was a TreeClan cat. More importantly, Ravenstar was his to talk to.
If she hadn't attacked, he feared he would've done so himself. The TreeClan warrior deserved to feel her claws, and deserved to be ripped apart for talking to someone who did not belong to him; he watched each strike, each drop of blood that was shed, with the utmost affection in his eyes, purring along to the sound of their heated battle cries. He had faith in his leader - the cat he wholeheartedly possessed, and who wholeheartedly possessed him - and wouldn't think to take away from her second last fight. She deserved this glory, and she would have it, no doubt, because he would make sure that she had everything she deserved. When the tom fell at her paws, dead, useless, his eyes found her face, the blood that smeared her cheeks, the way her chest expanded as she fought to catch her breath, and she had never looked so beautiful.
He would immortalize her this way.
Sandviper doesn't remember what happened in the time it took for him to leave his hiding spot, to come up behind her, and to tackle her to the ground. What he does remember is the way she looked at him. It was with complete, total, immeasurable disgust, because he was a traitor, but he knew that she loved him, too. Ravenstar had taken Bloodtalon's life, but Bloodtalon had taken Ravenstar's strength, and it was all too easy for him. She fought against him, and her efforts were fantastic, delicious; he smiled each time that her claws hooked under his skin, each time that her teeth locked around his legs, working desperately to free herself from the prison he had created around her. She would not escape him. She was his, and if she didn't believe that, if she refused, he would make it clear to her when he closed what little space was left between them to rasp his tongue across her bloody cheek.
He slit her throat. She had littered the front of him with many wounds while trying to escape his deadly grasp, his lethal affection, but he felt no pain. She had gotten to spend her final moments with him, and that was how it was supposed to be. Very slowly, very deliberately, he cleaned her face of the blood that she had spilled from him, of Bloodtalon's, too, taking his time to make sure that it was, indeed, her final life. After the allotted amount of time had passed, and Ravenstar still didn't rise, he stepped away, but not before touching his nose to hers.
Bloodtalon's body was nearby, and he lifted his eyes to the dead cat, frowning, embedding the tom's body with his scent. That was his kill, after all, and he had done it to avenge Ravenstar when the horrid cat took her last life. Sandviper returned to his clan, then, weary, stricken by grief, and he mourned the she-cat he loved, but not before telling her story.
"Ravenstar is dead," he murmured to the assembling crowd, shuddering, "and I avenged her when I took Bloodtalon's life."
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