I'm Not Afraid [open]

[~Hawktail~]

This is our temporary home
It's not where we belong
Windows and rooms
That we're passing through
This is just a stop
On the way to where we're going
I'm not afraid because I know
This is our temporary home

~Carrie Underwood:: Temporary Home

Fear? No. Guilt? Hardly. Regret? Nada.
Excitement? Blood-rush? Lust? Desire? Now you're talking.

A small tomcat crouched at the dead body of another cat. His golden brown tabby pelt was spattered with blood, but very few scratches were on him. His yellow eyes were wide, as usual, and staring at the blood pooling from the still-warm body.
"You're still careless," a voice muttered from behind him. It was low and gurgled. The little tom flicked his tail, his eyes locked on the deceased animal.
"Go away, Owl," he meowed. His voice was far too high-pitched for a tom. He didn't want the ghost bothering him. Just because he was cursed to always see them didn't mean that he had to put up with it. He sat with his tail twitching in annoyance.
The other sighed. "Fine." And then his presence was gone. The tomcat smiled and continued to feed his eyes. The dead cat's eyes were cracked and glittering, the hate and determination almost visible in the glazed stare.

Definitely lust and desire.

[Barketh]

"What the-"

The she-cat hissed as her eyes took in the scene in front of her. Fur bristling, she unsheathed her claws at the sight of the tom crouched over the carcass. By the overwhelming stench of blood and the still bright haze clouding the corpse's eyes, Whisperrain knew the body was fresh. She'd gone out to gather herbs because she'd been unable to find any thyme for the new kits in the nursery, and this was what she stumbled across?

Turquoise eyes flashing up from the dead feline, the she-cat stared at the tom, beautiful silver fur on end as she noted the obsessive glint in his eyes and the way he seemed to be admiring the body in front of him.
"Did you do this?"
She hissed, trying to hold back the anger that was rising inside of her. There was no mistaking the heavy stench of blood that hung over the small tom. He smelled of Rouge, and it was as if he was observing the body like a masterpiece. Was this his doing? If so, the she-cat would not forgive him for sending yet another life away. There were too many cats killing for sport nowadays, and Rouge and Warrior Code or not, it was immoral and selfish. They had no control over life and death, and no cat had the right to play God.

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[~Hawktail~]

"Did you do this?"

The small tabby tom's eyes tore from the body before him at the sound. A she-cat was eying him. She was a Clanner, by her scent. "What do you think?" he sneered loudly, giving away his voice problem. "No, I didn't. I just happened to be coated in his blood and I'm watching him die!" The young tomcat was bitter with his words. The stupid cat should have known that he did the deed.

"And, anyways," the small cat continued, a bit more softly, "he deserved it. Underestimation of one's strength because of his size is certainly one way to go out, isn't it?" He enjoyed showing a bit of his colorful vocabulary. "He was the one with the intention to kill me in the first place. I put his light out quickly, though. There was no time to feel the pain..." Bleak's eyes suddenly switched emotions and he looked away, back at the dead feline. Why was he speaking with her? The only cats he talked to were the ones he killed or his already-dead siblings. New emotions were stirring up in him. That dreaded emotion -sorrow- had come back to haunt him. Cursing his sensitive side, he turned fully away from the she-cat and stared at his prize.

[Barketh]

Unforgivable... No one can ever forgive you...
Anger rose up inside the Medicine Cat, and she wasn't sure whether to be disgusted by his cold, uncaring words or pitiful for the obvious distortion to his thoughts. What kind of life had a cat like this lead? If they were able to spill blood so casually and justify it so simply without a hint of regret, then it was possible that their conscience had deteriorated long ago.
"Deserved it? What cat deserves death? A cat who can be proud of leaving such a disgusting scene behind is sickening. What is it? Do you just not care?"

She hissed, turquoise eyes flaring with the stubborn emotions the she-cat was known for. Whisperrain had many signatures. To her clanmates, she was straight-forward and rather condescending, but to the other clans she was simply the gorgeous, hard-working Medicine Cat of Shadowclan. What was known by all who upset her though was that she never hesitated to speak her thoughts and opinion when riled up, and there was no hesitation in her words as she stared at the tom with a near frightening anger. Death was not a game, and if this tom was fooling around with the rules, she would force the idea into his head that he wasn't so powerful that he could make life his toy.

"Filthy piece of crow-food."
She meowed, voice like venom as she stared with cold contempt.

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[~Hawktail~]

Sickening? Was that how they put it? Did he care? "No, I don't care. We all deserve death. It'll always come eventually, so why not speed up the process?" His voice was hollow and without emotion. Death was his worst fear, but why did he create it? Why did he want it? He had no answer for his questions. All he could do was match the she-cat's sharp tongue with his own. Just alike, the thought echoed in his head. There he went again, generating thoughts he didn't want to hear! He hated his mind. But, then again, there were very few things that he didn't hate.

Filthy piece of crow-food? Was it to burn him? Or was it just a slip of her tongue? No, she didn't look the cat who would have one of those. And there was too much meaning behind the harsh words...

A smile twisted his lips, so sickeningly cruel that it was frightening. He looked over his shoulder, just enough for the Clan cat to see the grin. "Thank you," he meowed coldly. No insults could damage him now. He was a broken toy, still able to play, but never to operate correctly again. He could always remember that. And now, the whole world was his to play at like he used to be. He wouldn't be the toy for someone anymore. No, they were the play thing...

[Barketh]

If cats could hate upon first impression, then Whisperrain and Bleak made a perfect example. The she-cat absolutely hated the tom in front of her. Fun? What was so fun about losing someone?
What would hurt more? Having them leave you, or someone taking them away? Lightshed, wasn't it both ways with you?
Her mentor hadn't died; at least, not that Whisperrain knew of. But she had been so betrayed and shocked that all she'd been left with was a cold unforgiving anger that could not be quelled by any words of comfort. And now this filthy tom was playing with loss like some marionette?
"Then tell me, tom. If life is so close to death, then why is death so far from life? If we are born merely to die, then why be born at all? I don't know about you, but maybe one day you'll find someone who has tried to break free from the cycle and make something of themselves. You may be some worthless waste of time spent on creation, but there are others who've tried to show some gratitude for being allowed the opportunity to live. Peace, pleasure, happiness. I don't know if you've ever heard or known these things, because obviously you have no appreciation of how precious life is to some. Call me stupid and air-headed, but if you cannot accept the importance of life to others, then I'm going to make you leave this territory before you take away anything else important. "

The she-cat dug her claws into the ground, teal eyes blazing with a sternness that was unmatched by any elder who'd just been woken midway through a nap. Whisperrain was dead serious. She was a young Medicine Cat, and on the smaller side at that, but if it came to a fight she would prove no less eligible than this murderer. Somehow, she found his story that held no beginning or middle pitiable. All the tom had was an end, and maybe it was because he was too afraid of meeting it alone that he sent so many others ahead of him.
You sad creature. Still, no matter how heart-breaking your story is, I won't forgive you. Ever.

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[Hey Hawky, do you think they could possibly become friends after their bad start? Maybe even best friends when they get over their differences. ^^]

[~Hawktail~]

OOC:: Yeah! It would be like a forbidden friendship!

Bleak had turned back to his carcass. She was right. Why were things born simply to die? "We are born to die so others may live." The small tabby tom echoed the words of his mother. "We are born, we grow, have families, become old, and die. That's how the cycle works. It is impossible to break from it!" His meow was suddenly raised. "There is no possible way for us to break the pattern! If it was, there would be blood everywhere! The unneeded outbreak would be too much for every cat. Even I would be sickened at the awful sight."

Bleak whirled around to face her. "She-cat, if you take me from this world, will you live to regret it? Will you be able to have my blood forever stained into your cozy paws? Can you kill and simply brush it off?" He took a challenging step towards her. "I have been killing since I was six moons old! I have killed my brothers! My sister! I live through it over and over again! I never have conversations with those I will kill because I get to know them. I'll regret it. I want my fears more with every drop of that scarlet liquid." His meow had dropped to a whisper by the time the last sentence was being told. His eyes were larger than what they already were. His tail was flicking as if to say: Kill me now...

[Barketh]

[=D Alright!]

Stopped temporarily by his words, the she-cat listened and for once, she did not have an answer. How did a cat break free from the cycle? It really was never ending; wasn't it? So that was it? They were destined to be happy and love their existence only to have it swept out from under them just when they were able to relax and look back at everything they'd done and feel proud? At the peak of their satisfaction and happiness, their lives were to end? It didn't seem fair, and she knew that. She knew that so well that she hated herself for not admitting it. All she could think of though was the thought that this tom was able to recognize that and while he spoke so rashly of life, there was a strange sense behind his words, and for a moment, she felt a stirring inside her; the faint flicker of a firefly in the midst of a cold Leaf-bare night.

Her eyes widened as he turned to face her, and she was slightly taken aback by how young he looked. Flinching at the harshness in his words, it took her a while to fully comprehend what he'd said.
So you're alone? I see...
She closed her eyes when he finally finished. Turquoise pools were veiled by silver fur, and when she looked at him again, there was a steadiness that was masked with such strong emotion that even she felt her heart quiver.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry you're alone, and that you live with that fear; the fear of ever growing close to someone because you're afraid you might one day have to be the one that makes them leave. I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry that no one told you it's ok to be afraid. I'm sorry that you didn't know that it's ok to want to not be afraid, but it's not ok for you to ask me to kill you."

Great Starclan, was she crying for this cat? All he was was some lone murderer with a dark past. She didn't know who he was, nor why he was here, but the emptiness inside him was getting to her, and suddenly she felt as if all the sadness Bleak had never let himself feel was overcoming her, and so she let herself cry in a mixture of pain and anger. Pain for the tom, and anger that someone so meaningless to her could make such a normally strong she-cat cry.
"Whether you'd told me any of this before or after, what makes you think I could kill you? Death is no escape from life. Death is merely a dead end; no where to go after, and maybe you can say we believe in Starclan out of the fear that we're heading nowhere after all this is over... But isn't it ok to be afraid? It's ok to hurt, and be upset, and even to hate and make mistakes, because that's what lets us know that we are alive. Killing someone; doesn't that just go to show you how fragile and precious life is? Rather than breaking those delicate flowers, why not find satisfaction in planting your own seed and watching it become a tree instead? After all, aren't you the one whose been trying to break free of this cycle for so long?"

She meowed, blinking past the tears as she stared at the tom with such depth that any other cat might've drowned in the teal orbs.

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[~Hawktail~]

Bleak blinked in disbelief. She was sorry? For him?
Unbelievable...
He remained silent through her speech. She was hitting every exact point like needles. He had never been told that it was alright to fear. No, he had lived by:: if you're scared, you're not going to make it through the night. You show anyone your sorrow and they'll kill you. He could almost hear his father hissing it into his ears now. Bleak's father... That cat was one sight. With a coat exactly like Bleak's golden brown tabby one, they were twins despite their size. Kahl was his name, and he was one of the largest cats the small tabby had ever seen. Being the rust of the litter, Bleak was always comparing his size to others. But no cat was larger than Kahl.

"Don't," he choked. "Don't cry for me. Please, I don't deserve your tears." 'Please' had escaped his lips without his knowing. Manners just naturally came to Bleak when he was on the brink of tears. The tom lowered himself to the ground in a pathetic crouch. "I know it's wrong," he mewled. "I know I shouldn't kill for the pleasure of it, but my father... No, I shouldn't be blaming anyone. This is my fault and mine alone." His yellow orbs flickered to the motionless body, and then swiftly looked away and came back to meet the she-cat's eyes. "No, why would I break from the cycle when I want the last bit of it? I guess that I'm too scared to meet the end, so I've been giving others the chance... They get what I want..."

He weakly looked away...

[rushfur]

A shadow stood on the far side of the barn. Her yellow orbs had been watching, and her ears had taken in the whole thing. Cross smiled. Another killer. But this 'good' cat, this Clan cat, was tempting him to change his ways. Be good? nearly impossible for a truly hardened heart, like her own. She was truly interested by this, 'heartwarming' conversation. Her orbs darted to the dead cats body. Why care about life? Why is it considered precious? Yuuki knew why, and that was her main fear. She was terrified of death. She always took a life before it could take hers.
Orbs still focused on the cats, she slid closer through the shadows. Her fur was a dark, depressing blue, with a while tuft of fur on her forhead, covering her left eye half-way. Cross slid closer, until her scent mixed with the others slightly. The stench of dead cats clung to her breath slightly, and she stared at these cats, waiting. Her short, bobbed tail moved slightly, and her deep, cross like scar on her right cheek was clearly visable. Cross stood in the shadows, black claws out.