Post by alpine on May 25, 2016 3:32:29 GMT
[googlefont="Griffy"][googlefont="Abel"]
SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS
WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT
RUNNING FROM THE DAY
Scarlet strands peeled off of silver paws, swirling away in the gentle current of a small stream. Will waded in further as the blood washed off of his paws, wetting his belly fur to sip from the sweet water. The evening was still young; fire lit the sky above in hues of red and gold, but Will was in no mood to enjoy it. Fool, she shouldn't have tested me.
The day had not gone well, by any definition. Will was almost always smooth, even cheerful, and he hated when someone made him lose his cool. Especially a loner; his beef was with the clans, not them. But he could hardly be blamed, could he? Everyone had limits, and Will's were not be pushed. Tough, she should have known better.
At the moment, Will couldn't trust himself not to act on his anger impulsively. What was her name? Ah, Scarlet. Hah. Fitting. The stream's calming effects weren't working like usual, so he stepped out. He needed someone he wouldn't be tempted to take head on. Kittypets were out of the question, too easy to pick off. Clan cats were trained too well to beat in a direct fight without serious injury; they required wit and patience to deceive. Eeny, meeny, miny, WindClan. Hmm…maybe the old battle injuries.
So much for washing off. When his fur had dried slightly on the bank, he smeared mud through his fur to disguise his appearance and hide his scent, and set a course for WindClan territory. As he walked, he took gleaming claws and dug into his own skin, wincing slightly at the pain. They left neat red trails behind as he roughed himself up into a victimized state. Then he ruffled and matted his fur and affected a convincing limp. Finally, just when he reached scent markers, he carefully wiped his claws off in the dirt. It wouldn't do any good to look like he'd had a chance in this imaginary fight.
Raising his voice in a pained yowl, Will limped pitifully across the border. "Aaahh! Help, anyone! Uunh, it hurts." No better way to gain trust than to show yourself at your weakest. First rule of a successful trickster.
The day had not gone well, by any definition. Will was almost always smooth, even cheerful, and he hated when someone made him lose his cool. Especially a loner; his beef was with the clans, not them. But he could hardly be blamed, could he? Everyone had limits, and Will's were not be pushed. Tough, she should have known better.
At the moment, Will couldn't trust himself not to act on his anger impulsively. What was her name? Ah, Scarlet. Hah. Fitting. The stream's calming effects weren't working like usual, so he stepped out. He needed someone he wouldn't be tempted to take head on. Kittypets were out of the question, too easy to pick off. Clan cats were trained too well to beat in a direct fight without serious injury; they required wit and patience to deceive. Eeny, meeny, miny, WindClan. Hmm…maybe the old battle injuries.
So much for washing off. When his fur had dried slightly on the bank, he smeared mud through his fur to disguise his appearance and hide his scent, and set a course for WindClan territory. As he walked, he took gleaming claws and dug into his own skin, wincing slightly at the pain. They left neat red trails behind as he roughed himself up into a victimized state. Then he ruffled and matted his fur and affected a convincing limp. Finally, just when he reached scent markers, he carefully wiped his claws off in the dirt. It wouldn't do any good to look like he'd had a chance in this imaginary fight.
Raising his voice in a pained yowl, Will limped pitifully across the border. "Aaahh! Help, anyone! Uunh, it hurts." No better way to gain trust than to show yourself at your weakest. First rule of a successful trickster.