P.recariously

[untilthis.echo]

P.recariously C.lose

[t.h.i.e.f.]

Dawn finally came.

Pale golden rays streamed along the horizon, tainting the still fading indigo shades of night into a bathing mass of amethyst, transcending black ebony shades into pale sterling gray. The golden orb which had slept since of the rising of the white moon and black night made its appearance as it peeked from behind the tall mountains surrounding the wide valley. It rose slowly, achingly slowly, into the sky as the night faded away. The pink-toned and golden-shaded skies glimmered and drank in its rays, changing lazily into a pale shade of blue as the few specks of fluffy white drifted along its azure-tinted mass.

Another day, another challenge.

Small matted paws lifted themselves high above the shifting blades of grass that spread over the fields and hills of Windclan territory. Amber-toned eyes glared ahead, set upon a thin sharp face as a form slinked along the grass. Bony ribs rippled on a ragged thin tabby pelt, the shade of muddy pale brown with a hint of crumpled autumn leaves. Dark earthen stripes wrapped themselves haphazardly around the small form as the feline padded along the grass, nearing the edge of the link. A few whiskers twisted along the cat's muzzle, which was sporting losses of fur, revealing dark patches where the muddy pale pelt had been ripped violently from. One ear twitched on the tom's thin cranium, a large V-shaped scar cutting into the thin appendage.

An old aberration.

Amber eyes peered slowly away from the small, clumsy paws and stared at the small waves of water lapping hungrily at the shore of the hills. A long jagged tail twisted over and slapped lightly against the boned pelt. A tongue swiped over the cat's jaws, grazing needle teeth, but not hard enough to bleed. The tom shuffled his paws over, missing claws leaving the grass moves whilst thin cat talons drove groves into it. A maw leaned down and nose at the liquid surface, marring its watery surface of gray-blue. A tongue lapped at the liquid. A bit murky the water was, but drinkable. He could just taste the hint of fish. However fish weren't nearby this spot. So he moved on.

To the broken path.

Long legs leaped onto old wood, swaying and tumbling to one side as the rotted logs creaked and groaned. A half-growl, half-gasp emitted from the feline's throat as the movement sent his ragged body to one side. Stepping as carefully as he could, the tabby trotted along the old wood, wrinkling his scarred nose at the scent of the dead trees. Paw after small pawstep, he moved closer to the edge of the broken bridge. Burned patches of fur were obvious from the sun hitting the cat's fragile, dirty pelt. The feline ceased his walk and stared down at the mass of water some feet beneath him. He craned his neck down and peered at it, or glared was more of the word. His amber eyes caught the silver hint of small fish swerving jerkily under the dark surface. He licked his lips and leaned closer.

Precariously close.

[l.ast of the [wild]s]

The pink and light gold tones brought with them a brisk air that was common among newleaf sunrises. It was still slightly dark, as the sun had not yet risen to its highest peak in the sky. Dew hung off the long blades of golden and green grass mixed together. The brisk chill air ruffled the coat of sable brown and snowy white. Mahogany ears flattened against the sable autumn skull showing a sign of discontent and slight frustration. Dark turquoise emeralds gazed at the large lake in fright and confusion. The marble body pranced in place as tiny paws shuffled amongst the blades of tall grass.

He really shouldn't have given into his desires and broke away from the safe clumps of the nursery. Alas, his normally timid demeanor had broke under the thoughts of delightfully exploring the vast territory beyond the camp. Now, e was woefully regretting ever thinking of escaping his mother's watch and padding into unknown lands.

From what the kit could see, this place was the broken half-bridge that a few of the warriors had spoken of. The wood certainly matched the descriptions. Bark was rotting on the twoleg creation, its strength being chipped away by years of neglect and abuse. However, the bridge was still usable, made evident by the teeter-tottering a strange cat did as it lapped up the slightly distasteful essence of the waters below the rotting wood.

Being alone, frustrated, away from his mother's care, berating his stupidity for getting lost in his own territory, and in possible sight of a ragged, unknown cat was certainly not the experience Hewkit wished to have when he had left WindClan camp. The snowy white throat shifted as a gulp was made known. Hewkit shivered and tried to mask his small form within the grass, turquoise emeralds watching in fear as he observed the cat drinking.

[untilthis.echo]

[t.h.i.e.f.]

A presence

He felt something different in the atmosphere around him, a sudden change in the land. The mangy maw lifted from the water's dark surface, amber eyes scanning the territory around him. Was there something else here? He could feel it. Even if he was not back on land to feel the vibrations of another creature's paws, he could still feel the setting change in the air. Licking his lips and wiping away the excess water that dripped from his remaining whiskers, the tom craned his head around to peer at the grassy hills.

Inexperienced at masks.

He saw what was different about the land almost instantly. Almost. He could have easily swept his eyes along the green blades and missed the small form hidden in their semi-tall depths. But he didn't. The white pelt stuck out too much. Even though the form was tiny and could be easily hid, this tiny creature was obviously inadept at doing so. His amber eyes narrowed at the small almost completely alabaster form were it not the for the half mahogany mask, ears, tail paws, and haunches. His eyes, though, matched somewhat with the evergreen around them. Those dark turquoise green eyes.

Something new.

He swayed on the rotting wood as he stared at the tiny creature, the tiny kit. His scarred ears perked up as his amber eyes fixed on the little thing. Could it be a new meal? But he didn't eat kits. He wasn't that vile, though kits annoyed and disgusted him sometimes. But even from this distance, he could taste the fear scent. This thing was all on its own and could make easy prey for anyone, or anything. Slowly, almost noticeably, he teetered to the edge of the half-bridge. Then he leaped from it in one great leap. An 'oof' emitted from his lips at his ungraceful fall and he shook his head as he rose to his diminutive paws. The tom glanced up again and faced the kit. Then voice came. A gruff, clearly unhappy voice. A voice filled with the underlying tone of a biting retort. An anti-social voice filled with threat. A loner's voice.

"Who are you? What kind of stupid kit is out here alone without a mother?"

[l.ast of the [wild]s]

| Is | it | any | wonder | why | I'm | scared? |

Fear.

Terrible, inexplicit fear.

The emotion grappled him in its tight, deadly grip, stifling his voice as his breath hitched quietly. The fright froze his muscles and made his blood run cold. For a moment, he was caught between movement and inertia. The tiny WindClan kit didn't even twitch the tip of his tail, dark turquoise emeralds widen by the fact that he was facing a real, live danger. Mahogany fur rose on end as Hewkit gaped back at the mangled rogue, taking in the vicious sneer and the hateful voice. The little tom gulped, the first sign of motion since he had heard the larger cat demand who was in hiding. Then, slowly, as slowly as he could move without bringing alarm to his already rapidly beating heart, Hewkit emerged from the grassy cover, the blades shifting from brushing his pelt against them.

A part of him realized, had he been a warrior, he would have stepped up to the snarling tom and demanded what he was doing on WindClan territory. Alas, he was nothing, but a small kit at the moment and the only he could do was yield to the rogue in the hopes that he would be spared from being ripped to shreds. Mahogany paws took tentative steps to the larger tom cat, the alabaster fur brushing the ground as dark ears flattened against a little skull. Tail tip twitching, Hewkit stared up into boiling amber eyes, his own emerald orbs the opposite of the blazing gems. While his eyes were cool from fright, the rogue's were hot with anger.

Then came sound, a young voice, filled with naivete and timid caution. "I-I'm Hewkit of WindClan." The half-marked tom asked, his body quivering as he crouched in front of the mangled, tabby tom. The tomkit's tail twitched as he stared up at the rogue, "Who are you and what are you doing on WindClan territory?" He asked. Almost as soon as the words were out, Hewkit regretted them. The earlier fear intensified and the alabaster cat winced, dark ears pinning against his skull as his emerald eyes flickered with worry, fright, and dread. A gulp rolled down a marble throat as Hewkit stared into those pools of darkened sand filled with blazes of fiery heat. This rogue could rip him to shreds and Hewkit might have just given him a reason why.

[Stealth [Icy]]

ruddyfur xy

[/color]

That scent...

Golden rays hit the Somali tom. He breathed in the air. He could smell the dew on the long blades of grass and prey. His ears suddenly twitched backward That scent... He thought, trying to pinpoint the new smell. He blinked his eyes sleepily. He could tell he wasn't fully awake, to the broken half-bridge.

The rolled, his maw open a bit, trying to relieve himself of his own heat. His paws were damp with dew, cooling him down a bit, but dirt caring uneasiness. He paused and breathed the air. His whisker twitched back suddenly, the scent... Alas, Fear-scent. Fear-scent, as strong as such, I should have been able to get it... He thought, a low growl escaping his throat. He walked faster, more determined, who ever the scent came from, they were at the half-bridge.

He could see his destinate from here, the top of a medium-sized hill. He scanned and sniffed the air, looking for who the scent came from. Hewkit? He thought, looking down the mahogany and snow kit. The kits position told him enough. He scanned once more. A bony brown tomcat, one he had never seen before was with Hewkit. No wonder... The ruddy Somali charged to the hill. He was in WindClan long enough to know how to run down a hill without falling.

He leaped in front of the kit with a snarl, fangs bared and claw flexing. He won't let any cat harm one of his Clanmates, especially a kit. His gold eyes were narrowed, glaring at the bony brown tomcat. The wind start to blow now, the scent of the bony brown tom coming at him. His ruddy colored fur was spiked at his spine. His nose was flaring, and anger spat out of his mouth to the ground. If he were to fight to keep the Hewkit safe, he would, and the tom wouldn't be a match, from the looks, and condition, of the unfamiliar brown tomcat. "Who are you?" He spat furiously, "Who are you to be on WindClan territory? Your smell is not of a Clan, so your not a medicine cat, and not a warrior, from the condition your in." He continued, looking at the toms paw.

Hewkit...
[/blockquote]

[untilthis.echo]

[t.h.i.e.f.]

[B.u.t. t.h.e.r.e'.s. s.t.i.l.l. r.a.g.e. i.n.s.i.d.e.]

Was it surprise he felt? Shock? When the small tiny kit had crawled from the tall undergrowth to face him, quivering with absolute fear, he did not know what he felt. His heated, angry gaze had raked over the diminutive tom's body, boiling. The snarl that had readied itself for whatever had been lurking in the grass died in his throat, not surfacing past his trembling black lips. He could not deny that what he thought would appear would be one of those much larger cats running amok these lands, so he'd been ready for a fight. And yet, what he received was a kit, not much older than one barely fit to wander from its mother's nest. It was pitiful.

[T.h.e. m.o.r.e. y.o.u. s.h.a.k.e. .t.h.e. m.o.r.e. y.o.u. g.i.v.e. a.w.a.y.]

Disgust revolted into his spine, crashing against him in a colossal wave of anger. His claws unsheathed as he stepped a bit closer to the kit, amber eyes narrowing as a shiver of fury bristled along his spine and to his tail, the appendage flailing swiftly in the air. Stalking ever close, the loner's harsh orbs gleamed with furious intent. There was suck fear in this kit, such weakness in his tiny frail body. It sickened him to great lengths, made his fur crawl and his throat constrict, squeezing the growls that trickled out into bubbled groans. A flicker in his eye made him turn and all he saw was a blur of ruddy-toned earth, something barreling its way toward them.

[W.h.e.n. a.l.l. y.o.u. c.a.n. d.o. i.s. h.i.d.e. f.r.o.m. t.h.e. f.e.a.r.]

The loner whipped his head out, staring with contracted pupils at the creature that rammed to them, almost causing him to stumble back in shock. He did, but only by a mew few paces. His amber eyes gazed at the new tom, much larger than the minuscule kit, with a mixture of shock and anger. Once again, he felt his voice dying in his throat. Grazing his eyes over the clay-pelted cat, he took in his firm figure and lashing tail, claws unsheathed and maw opened in a growl, voice trembling with asperity and warning. He was briefly thrown off balance in mind, could only stare at this new cat with wide amber eyes. And then his words sunk in and the fury returned once more. Jaws snapping forward in a swift motion, his gleaming gold eyes narrowed to slits as he crouched, angry hunter's position masking the doubt that crept to nag at his mind. Could he take on a cat bigger and stronger than him? Pride would not let him back down. His raspy mew answered the two Clan cats in a spit, "It's none of your business why I'm here! Now back off before I tear both of you to shreds!"

And he leaped.

[T.h.a.t'.s. d.e.e.p. i.n.s.i.d.e. o.f. y.o.u.]

[Stealth [Icy]]

You must be mouse-brained...

He lunged himself at the tom, his claw flexed. "Your a mouse-brain tom, I hope you know that!" He spat, a slight snicker in his voice. A plastic smile showed clearly he was amused. The pride of the bony tom amused him the most, next was his bony figure. "And just so its clear, I have every right to know what is going on in my territory, and this is WindClan territory, just incase you hadn't noticed." Rage had hit him as if it were the waves of a lake crashing onto the shore. He had told himself he would fight to keeps the kit safe, and he would keep his promise.

He assumed this little fight was claws, so he dug his thorny claw into the tom should. His ruddy-colored paw was stained in crimson red blood. He was anger, but what had angered him the most was not that the unfamiliar was on WindClan territory, but that Hewkit was out in the open. A hawk or falcon could have flown off with him. But he didn’t question the kit. He had to protect the kit from the present danger, the unfamiliar tom. He had hoped that the bony toms appearance hadn’t fooled him. That he was weak, like he thought he was. He could she his paw was wounded, and a ‘V’ shaped scar on his face. He must have fought before… Obviously. It was highly unlikely the tom had that at birth. He growled. He had to stay focused. He had to keep Hewkit safe, remember the promise he made to himself just minutes… No, not even, seconds before. He suddenly began to pant. What if he couldn’t do this? What if, despite the figure of the tom, he was more powerful then him? Doubt, confusion. He had to be focused. Why was it so hard? Its a simple thing, really. His teeth grinded against each other, his jaw clanking like a low pitched bell. He shivered. His gold eyes narrowed. Focus.

…to fight me in your state…

[l.ast of the [wild]s]

Each of his small limbs froze, the sudden leap of battle making him hitch his breath. The fear from before had been completely washed away by worry and shock. Emerald turquoise orbs widened as the two toms leaped at each other, claws unsheathed and powerful enough not only to rip off fur, but flesh as well. Unconsciously, his own tiny claws unsheathed and sank into the ground, trying to stem balance from the earth. Mahogany and alabaster fur prickled as the warrior and rogue became locked in a battle of fangs and claws.

Voice at last found its way back to Hewkit's throat.

"Wait! Stop both of you! You're fighting over nothing! Ruddyfur he hasn't hurt me!" Hewkit yowled desperately. His little kit body finally unfroze for him to be able to scramble over to the snarling toms. Tiny white paws scuffled on the ground as Hewkit latched his tiny claws onto Ruddyfur's leg, verdigris eyes wide and begging. Sorrel ears flattened against the tiny tom's skull as he gave the strong warrior a pleading look. "Honestly Ruddyfur! He hasn't hurt me and I don't want you to get hurt either!" The WindClan kit whined, turquoise eyes wide a, once again, frightened look.

The mahogany kit gave the strange rogue a pleading glance as well. His claws were still in the Somali's fur, yet he was beseeching the rogue, as well as Ruddyfur, to stop fighting as well. "Can't we talk about this?" Hewkit asked, his dark tail tip twitching. He dearly hoped both toms would get over their pride and agree. Especially when this had all been an accident. Nothing, but pure bad luck.

| Is | it | any | wonder |
why | the | answer | keeps | me | petrified? |

[untilthis.echo]

[t.h.i.e.f.]

A strangled roar came from the rogue as his body collided with that of the Clan cat's. His claws scrabbled against the mud-shaded pelt as the other tom's own paws struck him on the side. For a moment, he saw blood splatter and a brown paw become soaked in the red ooze. Then a yowl split from his throat as pain on his side pierced through his ragged pelt, stinging against his ribs. He raised his claw and raked it down the cat's broad neck. Fury blazed hot red in his eyes as his heart hammered in his chest, beating with the adrenaline of the fight.

Distinctly though, he heard the timid wail of the kit as it latched itself on Ruddyfur's side, pleading for them to stop. His amber eyes boiled, skull whipping to face the young kit. With a snarl, he frantically scrabbled from the somali's blood-soaked claws and ducked to the side. He whirled his cranium, smashing it into the side of the cat's flank. His head collided with solid flesh and muscle, no more than a few inches from the kit, "SHUT UP YOU PIECE OF VERMIN!"

With that he rushed from the two cats again. His paws scrabbled on ground, too small for firm balance. He winced as the wound throbbed, screeching inside his body. His breath came in quick gasps, chest squeezing. This cat was larger than he was, and in greater fit. How was he supposed to fight him? The answer came quickly and a devilish, sneaky grin curled his lips. His fangs poked out as he padded back a few steps. They slipped, he fell onto the grass and curled up. There were few ways he could beat a cat of his caliber, and he'd come across enough to know how to survive this alive. Being a rogue had taught him many a thing. He went limp, eyes fluttering shut as he feinted exhaustion, blood staining the grass.

[Fight dirty...]

[Stealth [Icy]]

.ruddyfur.xy

Run, tom, run...

Gold eyes stared blankly at the kit, but the ruddy body stayed in his fighting position. He opened his mouth to speak, but words didn't come out. he still had to keep focus of the bony tom. He was still a threat, his sudden attack before made him uneasy. He set his golden optics back on his attacker. He was focused on the tom, but alert to his surroundings.

He closed his eyes. He screeched as the claw of the tom tore painfully at his neck. He opened his eyes, but the tom had fled. He panted heavily, trying to catch a breathe of air. He hissed, looked furiously around for the tom. His golden optics searched the underground like a falcon in search of prey. He saw the bony tom body, lying there, limp, crimson red blood oozing out of his side. The grass around him was stained. He growled, baring his fangs, and turned around to Hewkit. He walked slow, each step more painfully then the one before. “What were you doing here?” He asked, a rasp in his voice. He looked over his shoulder, then licked his wound as gently as he could. Ahhh… He screeched to himself, closing his eyes tightly. He stopped trying to clean himself, and looked at the kit mahogany and white face, his face showing clearly he was in pain. He breathed in then out slowly, trying to make it as least painful as he could. His gold eyes stared into the kits.

Why did you come out here in the first place? You could have been killed! He thought, shivering. That would be the worst thing in the world. If WindClan lost a kit that would be one less warrior, and great grieve to the Clan.

..For your weakness clear...

[l.ast of the [wild]s]

:Hewkit

Shame burned his small body as he lowered his head. Turquoise eyes glimmered as the tiny tomkit shuffled his paws, dark tail lashing about as his ears drooped. Hewkit tensed his body, his fur bristling from the recent head-on collision. "I'm sorry." The small feline mewed, his face lifting to stare into Ruddyfur's molten amber eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you! Honestly! I just wanted to see what it was like outside of camp! What it felt like to be a warrior!" Hewkit cried, his mahogany and alabaster face scrunched up with desperation and a hint of hurt.

It was true though. He had wanted to taste the air outside the camp. For far too long had the young WindClan tom been stuck inside the nursery. Ivorykit always snuck out anyway so why couldn't he be allowed a chance to see the world? Hewkit fidgeted, his coal black tail swishing as he detached himself from the slim WindClan warrior. "I won't do it again." Turquoise orbs were solemn, yet sadly, but innocently truthful.

They slid over to the prone body of the mangled rogue, their verdigris rims widening as blood stained the floor. The ocean-blue flickered in the half-marked kit's face. "Is he dead?" Hewkit choked out, his little form freezing as horror lined every hair on his pelt. Mahogany ears pinned back against the tomkit's skull as his coal black tail lashed about then froze like a dark snake.