Bloody Mary Anyone? [Sharpclaw]

SCARLETT
Watch the blood, drip, drip, drop.

Scarlett sniffed at the air; she sneezed. This den was tainted with rot. She hated it here. There was always this unknown beast breathing down her neck. There were rules she wasn't free. The moment she stepped into their paws she was trapped for eternity. Scarlett had gotten used to the stench; she became accustomed to the cold bitter voices that surrounded her. No one wanted to be happy; she wasn't against that.

But she was sick. Sick of this place and it's hold. She coughed. With a huff she dragged her limp body to her paws. Hunting will pass the time. She exhaled slowly; ridding her body of that damp, rusty air. Her eyes scaled the den, she had hunted before but only when ordered to. Was she allowed to just get up and leave? She assumed so. She wasn't no warrior.

Over the weeks she had been sent on patrols to observe clan life. She wasn't sure what was so fascinating about the life of a clan. It was almost as horrific as humans trying to work together. The whole concept made her snort. And laugh. Oh it made her laugh. Here they were spending their time detesting the clans; yet they spend the rest of their time pretending to be a clan. Deathclan. Oh the name sends shiver down your spine. She laughed hard.

Whatever. She didn't need permission; she didn't need someone to hold her paw. She wasn't a silly little kit. With a flick of her tail she exited that den. The smell of real life exhilarated her. It tickled her senses; sending her riding along the waves of sunshine filled life. Out here she wasn't trapped in some whole; the rush of grass. The warmth of summer. Scratch that. The warmth of green-leaf. These cats were foreign to human concepts. A little smile preoccupied the corner of her lips; she dropped into a hunting crouch.

( Thanks a bunch, Wish! Testing colors... )

<sup>Sharpclaw
A living mistake

Sharpclaw slowly padded along the borders of so-called 'DeathClan' territory, dissolved in his thoughts. Ah, did he miss the real Clans. This fake Clan was nothing like he was used to. Poor shelter, lack of leadership, and definitely lack of sense. But, it was the only thing he had left of his own Clan.

Sharpclaw halted to a stop. A familiar scent wafted toward him, which resulted in his lips curling up in delight. Lillyfern. That name hadn't crossed his mind in a while. Actually, for moons. Her scent warmed his insides, making him feel care-free. Lillyfern was a beautiful light gray ThunderClan she-cat with blue eyes. Sharpclaw had a crush on her since kit-hood. But what would she be doing out here?

The rogue quietly padded along the thin grass in pursuit of the welcoming odor. After a few moments he came across the owner of the warm smell that hypnotized him. Scanning for the familiar soft gray fur the only thing his eyes came across was a blotch of ginger near by. Squinting, he noticed it was Scarlett, the stubborn she-cat from a few nights ago. Wait...that scent was hers? What did this mean? Why did he mistake Lillyfern for Scarlett, a short-tempered she-cat he barely knew?

Not delaying his body any longer, he threw a pebble behind Scarlett, attracting the attention of the mouse into noticing the rogue. As it ran franticly near his direction he pounced onto the mouse, neatly placed right in front of Scarlett with the limp prey laced in his claws. "I thought cats weren't able to get out of DeathClan camp without a partner, hmm?"</sup>

ooc: Do not mind one bit x3
I think I picked it up from someone else as well ;]

SCARLETT
Watch the blood, drip, drip, drop.

A pebble whizzed past her left, back foot. Furrowing her brows she let out a low growl; that mouse she had been stalking for a little more than two minutes shot off squeaking in the opposite direction. With angry huff she whipped her head around in anger. Oh, she knew it was another cat. But she was more surprised that it was that rogue from before. Whathisname--Sharpclaw? Yah, whatever. Soon he was dropping that puny lump of bones at her paws. What was she the queen of England? Excuse the human--no two-leg talk. Correction; what was she the leader of Starclan? Raising a brow she growled hastily, "I could've killed that myself. I don't need no tough 'n buff tom to hold my freakin paw." She wasn't much of a talker but just then she realized how foreign her voice sounded. She was always using different words, she had an accent. She closed her mouth and decided to simply glare. That would suffice.

But the words bubbled out.

"I'm not no Deathclan kitty." she huffed. Rolling her eyes she added with a growl, "I would prefer to live on my own, but I'm foreign to this land. Before this--" She caught herself. The last time she had been so open, so tempted to spill out she was harmed. Her eyes trailed down to that ugly hairless scar that ran down her forearm. She swallowed back the rest of her words. Instead she simply strode past him, tail in the air. This tom wasn't going to mess with her head. She could handle that herself.

Locking her eyes on a tiny, mouse-perfect den she waited for movement. She could hear it's puny heart-beat. The scurrying, the rustling of claws scraping the pavement. It shot out of the den in a flash. But Scarlett was faster, she caught the mouse with lightning quick claws. The mouse trembled; it's eyes wide with fear. Scarlett stared down into it's amber gaze. She dropped the mouse. It shot back into the den; surely not to come out once again. What happened?

Scarlett exhaled; she had seen her own fear. What will happen if I stay? What will I become?

I'll be eaten alive.

<sup>Sharpclaw
A living mistake

Sharpclaw sighed. Same short-temper, Sharpclaw grunted in his head, not daring to speak the words out loud. It would just lead to more commotion than there already was. Sometimes he wondered why he even talked to this grump when he knew it will end up in an argument anyway. He guessed it was just his desperate attempt to find someone he could be beside in this cruel place.

Though he should have been used to it after all the years traveling alone. But, he's a Clan cat at heart, and habits die hard, if they die at all. And this tom isn't willing to give away his love for his Clan that easily. Sharpclaw was distracted by Scarlett's next words of reply. No, he wasn't a DeathClan cat either. But what perplexed him was when she cut herself off intentionally. "Before what, eh?"

Sharpclaw watched the she-cat's gaze travel toward the scar rippling across her arm. How did she get so crippled up, anyway? Sharpclaw pondered. It was surely something to hide about if she wasn't willing to speak about it even in a mere sentence. He highly doubted that she would positively reply to his question.

The dark brown rogue observed Scarlett as she tried her shot at catching a mouse. She was very skilled at snatching the creature in her claws, but failed at killing it, which was the easiest part of all. The only details he grasped was that she stared at it for one moment before dropping it and letting it escape. "You said you could have killed that mouse yourself. But yet you let this mouse escape? What happened?"</sup>

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SCARLETT
Watch the blood, drip, drip, drop.

So many questions! Does this tom ever stop. With an impertinent sniff she strode past him, her tail bobbing high in the air. "I'm not obliged to tell you my story." Her eyes gave him a warning; her teeth flashed. "Nor do you need to know why I let that mouse go." A small, image ruining smile flickered upon her muzzle. "Would you take, I simply though the mouse was much too cute to kill?" The smile dropped when she looked back at his face. This was an untidy circle with no end in sight. They could easily go on for hours; biting and snapping. Nothing would get accomplished; she'd still hate him. And he? Oh he would still want to question her like madman. It wasn't going to end.

Scarlett brought her pacing to a halt; she threw him a haughty gaze. But it softened with an idea; a fizzling, wondrous, almost much to perfect idea. Was it so perfect that it just might fail? Certainly not. With careful planning; and with perfect performers it might just succeed. Scarlett could be free if this all worked out! She wouldn't be eaten alive by this hatred. Deathclan would be no more. She curled her tail at such an idea; another smile came to ruin that ugly reputation.

"Hey." she meowed suddenly. Catching his gaze she meowed once more, "Do you hate being confined to such binds?" Amber eyes blinked; teeth grind against each other. A hot breath frothed into the cooler, green-leaf day. Scarlett's eyes narrowed, casting her wild gaze around, she drew in close. Her muzzle was mere inches away from his. Her voice was taught with whisper,

"Let's destroy Deathclan."

<sup>Sharpclaw
A living mistake

Sharpclaw already suspected such an answer. She was obviously too stubborn to tell her weaknesses to some stranger. But it was common sense too. Who would do such a stupid thing because a clueless kit? But what did surprise him was her sudden change of tone. Actually, two instances surprised him.

First, the smile that played along her face. At least she's somewhat getting used to me... Sharpclaw scornfully thought, That wasn't the least bit of his worries, though. What caught him off guard was her next set of words.

Destory DeathClan? Were there bees in her brain? How could they destroy a whole Clan? Where would they live afterward? He wasn't being rational, though. He had to consider many facts. Sharpclaw was thinking of a full Clan like ThunderClan, not a small, scrawny group of rogues. It would be an easy task, if they planned correctly and throughly. Second of all, he knew what it was like to live on his own for years. He could do it again. And the she-cat seems more than capable of being independent in this vast wasteland.

After moments of rationalizing the situation, he replied, "It's only official under two circumstances," the tom narrowed his eyes, "we plan it out, and we have to trust each other instead of bickering and being distant toward one other. We have to become partners, not mere enemies."</sup>

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SCARLETT
Watch the blood, drip, drip, drop.

Trust. That word hasn't come into play since she were a mere child. Her scathing amber eyes dropped down to the ugly, hideous scar once more. The last time she trusted someone, that happened. Trust was out of the question. But she could get along with him. Scarlett wasn't stupid she knew how to make friends, put on a play. "Trust isn't an option for me." she meowed hotly, "But I won't betray you, and I will try not to act so cold." Her eyes narrowed, sure she'll follow his rules. But she had a set of her own, that he'd need to follow to as well. "Your turn." she breathed.

Lashing her tail she stood arrogantly before him. Of course her stature was the least bit intimidating; Scarlett was puny. Her ears only came to just below his shoulder. "I don't want to be second in command. This was my idea. I'm in charge." she growled, flicking her ears she continued, "I won't ever be considered weak just because I'm a petite, little she-cat." Raising a paw she extended her claws,
"I could shred you in an instant. Don't forget it."

Raising her brows she meowed coldly, "And don't try to be a hero. If I'm in trouble I don't need your help." Dropping her voice she snarled, "I can take care of myself." This wasn't about trust. It never would be. Scarlett wasn't going to toss everything she fought for, for one tom; one plan. She'll stick to her guns. Barging past him she made sure to prove her point by roughly bumping his shoulder, "Come on, let's discuss our battle plan." she muttered. Flicking her tail she gestured him to follow her towards a secluded area.

<sup>Sharpclaw
A living mistake

Sharpclaw narrowed his eyes. It was going to be hard getting along with this stubborn she-cat. She always seemed to take things negatively. Never did she act positive until that suddne outburst with the destroy DeathClan plan. But hopefully, if the plan works out well, he won't have to deal with her for long. At least she would try to act less cold. But try wasn't a very strong word.

"I'll be just as loyal, but keep in mind I won't act like your perfect son," Sharpclaw retorted, but he held back any sign of anger or resentment. After all, if he allured her to bicker by having a undesirable tone, their short-term quality of cooperation would be in ruins. It was best, though he regretted it, to play it her way. If he could imagine her as his Clan leader, it would make his job as her loyal warrior a lot better. But it was going to be challenging.

Sharpclaw followed Scarlett in silence, waiting for her to enter before he let himself in. It was a rather uncomfortable place, making him feel rather confined. He had to crouch down to save himself from hitting his head on the roof of the shelter, and ignore the pain as twigs occasionally stabbed his flesh. "Now, do you have some sort of plan?"</sup>

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SCARLETT
Watch the blood, drip, drip, drop.

Scarlett snorted, that was fairly easy. She wasn't expecting such perfect submissive qualities emitting from this tom, but perhaps it came from his whatsitcalled--clan past. "For your information my Son wouldn't be such an idiot." It was unnecessary but there was this joking gleam in her eye. Something that hadn't glistened in quite some time. Something that this tom managed to spark. Sitting down she wrapped her long, skinny tail around her paws. Lifting her chin she gestured him to sit as well. Bringing her head in closer to his she whispered quietly,
"I've been thinking about it actually for awhile now."

Blinking her large amber eyes she continued, "It wouldn't honestly be too hard. There's only a few members, so getting them to agree would be simply." Licking her lips she murmured, "When he, The Hunter's least expecting it we just turn on him. You know kill him." Raising her head she meowed a bit louder, now that she was confident with her plan, "Once he's dead we dismember and go out on our own. We can live ours lives freely without feeling restricted."

"I know it sounds really plain and simple but it should work." The petite she-cat knew it would. The clan was so dysfunctional it wasn't even funny. It was a clan that formed to go against the other four clans. They were so obsessed over their hatred for clan-life that they couldn't even realize that they are just like one. Deathclan was nothing but a sad excuse of a clan. I mean seriously Deathclan? Even the same was pathetic. "Honestly this clan is nothing but a bunch of rag-tag idiots."

Smiling she added, "No offense."

"I think I hardly qualify as an idiot." she mouthed dryly, a humorous spark laying beneath her serious gaze. "You have smarts, I can give you that." Scarlett meowed in response to his plan. The tom really was intelligent; she had gotten lucky. If she had knocked heads with an idiot her attempt at any sort of escape would have gone no where. Although planning it by herself would have worked just as well. Something tugged at the strings of her heart, you can't be alone forever. She fought it with a haughty grunt, "Though honestly we could just disband and leave him be." That was a sickening thought; leaving that monster alive would all too surely be a mistake. Scarlett would much rather have him dead then slinking around in the shadows. "On second thought, killing him would help me sleep at night." A shiver rippled down her spine; that would help her sleep much better. This was the first time in a long time that Scarlett had actually felt something other than hopelessness. A half-thought out idiot proof battle-plan had given her much more to look forward too. The idea of becoming free once more had given her a slightly more energetic future. Clearing her throat she meowed quietly to the tom, "When do you think we should attack?" The words spilled out once she rolled the question around, "Perhaps during the full-moon? When the moon rises just above the mountains." Through half-closed eyes she continued, "We should do it in the cave, so he has no place to run." she murmured. The blood lust curled beneath her tongue, she sunk her claws into the earth. The idea of killing someone shook her to the core. But in a frightening, sick kind of way. It wasn't that this killing would be unjust, or unfair. No, this killing would be for a good cause. Perhaps that's why it riled her up in such a way. Her body trembled at the thought of sinking her fangs into his throat. Making him feel the pain of a dozen she-cats, used for his torture. This wasn't unjust in any way. Scarlett would be revenging every she-cat he ever touched, every misguided soul he reaped. A light glimmered lively within her eyes, this was something she looked forward to. As her gaze met his she found herself feeling content. "Let's do this right." she breathed. [bg=3a130b][atrb=border,0,true]

S h a r p c l a w
--i'm a living mistake, foolishly hoping for my purpose in life


Sharpclaw found himself amused at Scarlett's ambition to see The Hunter dead. It pleased him, he didn't know why. Sharpclaw was definitely not the killing type. He was too close to Clan bonds and rules to even think about killing. He is well equip for murder, just not mentally. But, if it was for justice, he wasn't afraid to. Especially if it meant for rogues to live the way they were supposed to, and Clan cats to live peacefully.

It still made him nervous to kill another cat, though. No matter how much justice it served. Even if StarClan sent him to kill a certain cat he would still be nervous. And no one would think that of him. His name is fierce, and his appearance is battle worthy. Just the thought of purposely clawing deep into a cat's flesh, aiming his fangs into the soft skin of its throat, feeling warm blood flow between his teeth and claws...it just wasn't worth it. It gave him almost a sick feeling to do that and let a cat die in that manner.

But it had to be done. He couldn't step down now. They had already planned it. But when was the murder going to take place? He felt sick just thinking of that word 'murder'. Ignoring his habit he thought carefully of when they should attack. There was no purpose in waiting. The sooner, the better. It wasn't like they had to wait for a particular thing to happen before they could do anything. Everything will be the same. But maybe his urge to get this over with as soon as possible so he won't stress over the guilt of killing someone is making him impatient.

"We should do it as soon as possible. There is no point in waiting around in this dump." Sharpclaw spoke up, almost flinching from the bloodlust Scarlett was expressing. She obviously felt different toward the thought of killing another cat. He felt a shiver run down his spine. Yet again, she wasn't made of Clan blood like he was. Maybe it was natural for rogues.

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Scarlett watched his inner turmoil with amusement; she knew his problem. She felt it way back when she was younger, before she had made he first kill. Her only kill. It was for survival nothing more, before she was trembling with pre-guilt. It wasn't until after that she had felt her heart grow cold. After killing you can never go back; you become a different cat. Clearing her throat she growled softly, "I wouldn't fret over making your first kill." Shrugging she offered the tale of hers, "I made mine many moon ago." she began. Closing her eyes she tried to picture the day, cold, the snow was packed firmly against the ground. The sun seemed to provide no such warmth. It was between the time of her infamous leg wound and somehow winding up here. "It was a cold winte-er leaf-bare day-" There was this cat, Scarlett didn't know her name. She was young, a pretty little thing. Scarlett's eyes clouded over with bloodshed. "This cat, a calico. She caught a hawk. I wasn't sure how she did it but she managed to." The ginger and white she-cat had been half starved and asked politely if the calico would share. "The cat was pretty willing to share her kill with me, so we ate together for the following nights." Scarlett pawed the ground; digging her claws within the earth. "Turned out, that she had only wanted to share that one night. I didn't want to leave so she attacked me." The little calico put up quite a fight, but Scarlett was so tired of being betrayed that her moves were better. "I was so furious that yet another cat had betrayed me..." Scarlett's words trailed off. She gulped; cleared her throat and finished, "I ended up killing her." That night Scarlett padded away feeling anything but victorious. She felt like a thug, a thief, nothing good came out of it. The she-cat gave herself a shake, "Like you said, let's just get it over with." At least this time she'll be killing someone for a purpose. Perhaps this time she could feel in the tad bit happy about doing it. [bg=3a130b][atrb=border,0,true]

Sharpclaw listened to her tale intensely, for it might be the only tale from her past he could savor. And as he assumed, she had her share of fights and bad luck, probably even more than he had. Which probably what made her what she was today. Stubborn, tough...why couldn't he morph into being more like her after all these moons of being a rogue instead of being so loyal to Clan attributes? To his relief, though, her kill had guilt. It wasn't full of ambition or blood-thirst like he thought it would be. But, when analyzed it, she was a cat too. And no normal cat would feel pleasure for murdering their own kind. Unless it was for the good. But maybe he was too good. Especially in this world of rogues. "This is not my first kill, either." The words came slowly and remorseful, his eyes directed to the ground. It was the event that changed his life. The event when he was still a ThunderClan warrior. The same event that he, even to this day, doesn't know if he should regret it or not. It would have risked his life, or his rank. "My kill cost my life as a warrior. The cost of my father's life. The cost of my loyalty. It is because of that kill that took me where I am today." Sharpclaw didn't want to go into detail, for that was all she needed to know. They weren't elders, telling stories of their glory days. "But never mind my history. It's time to do what we gathered for." Sharpclaw stood up and stretched his slim legs, preparing for the departure from his cramped place. "Let's kill this monster." [bg=000000][atrb=border,0,true]