FrostClan: A Dark Tomorrow

Blueshard opened his eyes wide. "What part of the code says to kill in order to win battles..." he couldn't believe his eyes, this guy was like miniscourge all over again!

(*cough* They don't know anything about the original Clans from the books because those Clans never existed in this universe *cough* So they kinda wouldn't know who Scourge is *cough*)

Featherpaw quickly retreated backwards a few steps, stifling the hiss that she wished to loose. Her fur slowly began to lie flat and, with tentative steps, she came closer to Blackkit. Her eyes were clouded over with an unrecognizable emotion-a mixture of awe, fear, and the fiery rage that dominated Featherpaw's heart. She bent down slightly to stare the kit straight in the eyes, breath ragged. She opened her maw to say something, but soon turned away and padded slowly to the apprentices' den, where she flopped down in her den and slept.

Blackkit's gaze followed Feathpaw till she was gone, disappointment in his gleaming eyes. Without a word, the kit padded with a quickened pace to Quartzprickle, and without warning, he curled up on her, pressing his face against her soft, exposed belly and pulling his legs up onto her outstretched thighs as she vomited over her shoulder. He kneaded her softly with one of his tiny paws, feeling slightly guilty though he knew he was absolutely correct with his actions. I couldn't have just let her run wild in our territory- we have little kits here, younger than me.

(:3 Blackkit is creepier than a porcelien clown.)

The taste of bile in Emeraldeye's mouth was almost unbearable; he swallowed dryly once more, trying to keep himself from retching. It would do him no good. He dealt with blood all the time; gruesome wounds never bothered him, but something about the tiny heart made him want to seclude himself in a safe place, eating only strengthening herbs so he wouldn't have to even scent the blood of prey. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, chewing herbs so he could change the dressings on Vieledmist's wounds.

Vieledmist, still awake, glared at Blackkit, curled next to Quartzprickle, through the medicine cat's den. His paws tingled. He wanted nothing more than to get up and drag the kit away, into the woods, where no cat would have to look at him, remember what he had done.

With one last retch, Quartzprickle stood up, slowly pushing the small kit off her lap. She then bent down and murmured into the kit's ear before leaving him the clearing, walking slowly to the medicine cat's den, her step beginning to falter. "E-Emeraldeye.... When you're done, please c-come here."

At her idol's words, Miasmakit wiped the bile from her lips and gently slid out from beneath Vieledmist's leg and stood up. "Emeraldeye, I can finish dressing his leg if you'd like."

"Alright, if you think you can remember the herbs. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask me," Emeraldeye mewed warmly, pushing a pile of herbs to Miasmakit. He turned his attention to Quartzprickle. Padding out of his den, he drew in a deep breath. "Yes?"

"Well Emeraldeye, I think I may have contracted something after my last delivery of prey to Hellspire. I've been feeling a little squirmish, as well as having coughs, a stuffy nose, and short breath. And Hellspire sounds like he's worse."

Miasmakit quickly studied the herbs, remembering each process it had, and quickly began dressing the deputy's leg with perfect motion. She even changed out the poppy seed for his pain to one half poppy and the other half thyme- to assist with stress from the scene before as she felt him tense and get worked up when she was beneath him. "Now eat these herbs." She force one paw outward, pushing a leaf with the herbs upon it to the grey tabby. She was sure at first he would have been skeptical about taking herbs from a she-kit, but by now, Miasmakit was positive that he couldn't care less after all the time she had spent taking care of him.

"I'll give you some herbs. You'll be good as new in a few days if you rest well and don't exert yourself. As for Hellspire...I'll see to him soon," Emeraldeye meowed, sighing. The last thing he needed was whitecough. Every medicine cat hoped to Starclan that it wouldn't spread, that it wouldn't turn to greencough, but every leaf-bare it did. He ducked into his den, satisfied to see Miasmakit working so well with the herbs. "Miasmakit, would you mind keeping an eyes on Quartzprickle for a day or two? She's got a bit of a cough," He mewed, taking feverfew, tansy, and a few other herbs from his stores. He put them on a dock leaf and took them out to the she-cat.

Vieledmist quickly chewed the herbs and swallowed, cringing a bit from the odd taste.

Miasmakit curtly nodded and pulled the dock leaf package from the medicine cat as she trotted out if the den toward Quartzprickle, carrying it pinched between her lips as she gently nudged the weakened hunter to her paws and slowly towards her nest in the hunters' quarters- what Quartzprickle often called their den. Quartzprickle felt that if they were going to be called differently, she would call certain things pertaining to hunters other names as well, and Miasmakit respected the thought. Miasmakit respected the she-cat for many reasons, though some may seem trivial or even useless.

Throwing a final glance over his shoulder, Emeraldeye began preparing a more complex set of herbs for Hellspire. He may not need to use all of them, but he would hate making a second trip to his den. Herbs in mouth, he trotted to the warriors' den and ducked inside, quickly finding the cat he searched for. "Hellspire?" He called gently, putting the herbs down beside the warrior's den.

"Oh thank Starclan!! Someone to get this little pest out of here- Emeraldeye, can you get it through Bluekit's thick skull that Shadowcore isn't interested and that she should stop coming here!" His voice sounded muffled by his clogged nose and scratchy throat. When he looked up at the medicine cat, it was asonishng how the tom looked- fur was missing in small patches from the back of his neck, his eyes were bloodshot, and yellowgreen mucus layered his fur around his face and chest area in thick, wretched glops.

(He ended getting whitecough, but instead of changing into greencough, it became the much worse blackcough and that helped him get the mange that was in his system ever since he was a kit because of his mother and her half-clan genes- Hellspire's grandfather was an alley cat with mange.)

()

Emeraldeye gasped, recoiling a step. "Bluekit, do not come into the warriors den anymore. I just noticed Shadowcore looking for a she-cat to ask for prey. I bet it would be a lovely surprise if you got him a piece," He mewed, trying to keep his voice from sounding urgent. He rushed to Hellspire's side. "Great Starclan! Why didn't you come see me?! Do you want to go about, sickening the whole Clan?" He asked incredulously, shoving herbs of different color, size, and shape in front of the warrior. "Eat those-" he pointed to a small pile of herbs "-then chew the other ones until they have no flavor. Swallow the juice but spit the rest out," He instructed, his look daring Hellspire to retort.

As he craned his neck to eat up the first bit of herbs, he quickly chirped in with a raspy voice,"Hey, I didn't choose to stay all cooped up in here- remember, it was by Harrierstar's judgement and I obeyed." He broke out into a series of earsplitting coughs and a small trickle of black and green-tinted blood rolled down the corner of his maw, green from his infected throat and chest.

Bluekit's face lit up as she darted away and she quickly snatched up the freshest pieces- a scrawny shrew and colder mouse before running off after her love's scent. Yup, her love.

"Harrierstar's judgement or not, you could've at least gotten some cat to fetch me for you," Emeraldeye mewed crossly, pacing briskly back and forth between two dens. He was going into a state that he commonly slipped into with a cough-weakened patient-flustered and worried, but trying to hide his rising fears of death for the sickly. This is the worst greencough I've ever seen...Worse than greencough...

Shadowcore noticed Bluekit coming toward him with prey in her jaws. A warm smile spread across his face as the large, dark-furred tom padded up to the she-kit. "Hello, Bluekit," He mewed softly.

Bluekit smiled and dropped her load in front of the dark tom, beaming. However, as she sat waiting for Shadowcore to take his first bite, she was mighty quiet and she had to sniffled to dry her nose from her whimpering before.

Hellspire rolled his eyes and sat back down in his nest, wiping his face with his paw as he chewed the herbs, but all it did was smeared the funk deeper into his infected pore where the hair was missing. Sighing through the leaves, his gaze lowered. Oh what did you mean Rubyrain. Your presence, I can feel it, you know. And as much as I want and try, I can't ignore it.

~

Blinking his dead, ghostly white eyes, a pale sepia tabby kit stopped, his tiny paws in the middle of rummaging through a pile of papery wrappers as the sounds of monsters blarred by. "Peekaboo! I see you..."

(She's not literally there.)

(Stalker
level: Rubyrain)

Shadowcore gratefully bit into the prey, savoring it. Since the scarcity of leaf-bare he'd become thinner, but he still maintained his muscular bulk. "Thank you," He meowed through a mouthful, then swallowed loudly. "Go ahead and have some for yourself; you must be hungry."

"Try not to do that," Emeraldeye meowed, "I'll have a patrol get some water to clean you up if the river hasn't frozen. If not, I'll manage to melt some snow to drench a bit of moss. It'll be cold, but it wouldn't help to have your fur filthy like that."

Hellspire only flicked the tip of his tail as it laid limp on the ground, still looking down with his back turned to the medicine cat.

Bluekit hesitated then shook her head. "I-I rather not." She looked down, returning to her unusual quietness, pulling her paws up to her body, looking slightly off.

"Come on, I'm not used to such a large meal. I won't be able to finish it all," Shadowcore insisted, nosing the half-eaten prey towards Bluekit. He probably could've finished it if he wanted to.

Bluekit shook her small head and mumbled,"No....I couldn't...........I can't...." and she inched backwards a bit. She was glad that he was being so kind to her, but she couldn't, and she assumed her most of her clanmates couldn't either, eat after what she had seen.

Shadderscream padded slowly into the dark den, feeling quite a bit bigger compared to all the nests as he found what her was looking for. With a silent gulp, he lowered his body into the small nest and tucked himself close to her white pelt. With his bright, worried eyes illuminating the den, he cooed softly,"Hey, Featherpaw. Are you okay?"

Deltapaw had ran. Once the scent of blood drown out her lungs, instinct told her to get away as far a she could- she hadn't even seen what occurred. Now she was sitting in the middle of where she and Sourkit often met and silently, she groomed the golden pelt of the large tom kit as he laid before her, quieter than usual, fur prickled, and skin feeling chilled.

(Cat WB.)

"I-I'm fine," Featherpaw murmured quietly, staring at the ground. She was unusually aware of how cold her nest was without Shadderscream. "Just a little shaken up. Everybody is." She rested her head on her snowy paws, noticing a few small trails of pink among the fur. Scratches and scars from various places dotted her feet; some from brushing against thorns, other from rabbits that refused to die without a fight. There was even a few that came from the claws of another cat.

"Alright then," Shadowcore mewed gently, gulping down the rest of the prey greedily. Shaken or not, his appetite could not be affected. "Thank you for the prey, little one."

(I.
Am.
Bored.
Must RP!!!! I can't stand writing without other people anymore!!!!!)

Cursepaw padded tentatively through the woods. Every time her paws crunched through the snow it sounded like boulders crashing in her ears, she was so alert. She cursed herself for being so susceptible to her panic attacks. How could she have avoided it? Blackkit's gruesome surprise was enough, but along with Shadowcore, she couldn't have possibly held her composure. Where's Deltapaw? She wondered how her denmate was doing. She was obviously shaken, but Cursepaw wasn't exactly sure how much.

In a small clearing deep within the wooded territory sat a small, dark cat. She was closely covered by sparse, bony looking undergrowth that appeared to poke at her body. Bright eyes glowing as she gazed down, she kept her breathing soft and nearly stilled as the heavier rasping of Sourkit's breath seemed to shake the earth with its lowness as he pressed up against her chest, He appeared to be trying to tuck himself between Deltapaw's front legs, within the motherly safety that she seemed to possess.

Shadderscream dipped his head to his friend as he gently touched his scarred nose to her shoulder. It was odd, he felt, that she bore much less scars than he himself, though she was older by three moons and much feistier. In comparison to her generally powerfully angry nature, Shadderscream was a mere kit who would rather curl up to a mother's warm belly and suckle to his own lazy delight. And yet, he was a warrior with already so many scars from battles he wished he hadn't seen. Including the mental scar his being had gain from the bloody scene caused by a cat much younger than he- already bloodier then he as as well.

Featherpaw rose from her nest, seeming to physically sag as if she were weighed down by a boulder. It felt so-like she was carrying the knowledge of Blackkit's actions on her back like the cat he'd killed. She wondered exactly who it had been, what Clan. Did she know this cat? Had they talked at gathering, perhaps even erupted into one of her all-to-common heated arguements? Her thoughts briefly, blissfully, strayed from the topic a moment to wonder is Harrierstar would even let her attend gathering anymore. But all too soon the thoughts of death came crashing back. "Shadderscream," She whispered faintly, relishing the taste of the name as it rolled off her tongue, "What is to become of this?"

Shadderscream shook his head and looked his friend in the eyes. "I'm not sure how Harrierstar will react to........to Blackkit killing.........an ex-clanmate." He felt nauseous at the words, looking down. He knew the scent buried down beneath the blood and he cringed at the thought. Why? They had been nearly littermates....Why? Swishing his ringed tail, he was tempted to leave the den along with Featherpaw, but he remained in her nest. Comforting- it felt to be back in the den where he once bore innocence as pure as the first fall of Leafbare snow, the clean frost laden across the territory of bone-white trees and the fresh scent of holly.

(You use the word friends.
Friendzoned.)

"Ex clan-mate?" Featherpaw mewed, sudden realization dawning on her. "Which one?" She knew it had to be one of the sisters. She began pacing without noticing it. The faint pad of paws against the soft moss was somewhat soothing.