Blood Bath (Death Thread)

[Dragon]

Onyx had spent the last two nights inside the barn that belonged to Mistclan. The entire time she had been there not a single cat from the clan had stopped in there. She had stuffed herself with mice that lived there. The floor was scattered with the remains of dead mice some were half eaten, some were just bits of bone and fur, some only had a small bite out of them while still more were completely whole. She had killed mostly out of fun and to take something from the clan. She had killed every single mouse she could get her paws on whether or not she was hungry. The smell of death was thick in the air but yet mice kept returning, probably because of all the hay and food that lie inside the barn. 


Onyx needn't leave the barn for anything but water and even that she didn't have to unless she wanted some fresh air. There were these strange containers filled with water for the animals that lived in the barn. That day she just so happened to feel like some fresh water so she headed outside the barn though she needn't go far. It had been raining a lot that day and their were puddles everywhere. Bowing her head she began to lap from one of the many puddles before turning and heading back in not noticing the patrol of cats that were drawing closer.

[mewmehh]

The night air was heavy, thick with the threat of rain as the mist rose up from the meadow grasses. Practically fitting was the thought of the Foxeyes as he strode at the head of a small patrol, his lean black form like a sleek snake as he wove through the blades of grass without so much as a sound. At his lead, he had three more cats, she-cats all with paler pelts than he, all on hunter's edge; Saltweed, Miredawn, and Stoatwhisker. There was a smirk to his face at the thought- sure, they were all essentially his kin, with Saltweed as his mother, Stoatwhisker as a sort of aunt, and Miredawn as a replacement sister of sorts, but it did much to stroke his ego as he lead the way for the three. All were seasoned hunters, even despite their ages, and were of enough ability that he had grown to accept them as his own kin. Worthy of being his kin. As he lead the hunting patrol, the tom practically glowed with pride.

He paused to taste the air, and with him so did his team. It was almost poetic, almost artistic how streamlined and in-sync their motions were. Out of character, Foxeyes nearly praised them mentally for their elegance and efficiency. Now a warrior, trained and true, the rufescent tom would appreciate the smaller things he overlooked as a kit. All the subtle nuances that painted the picture-perfect warrior were much easier to see with his experienced eyes and the tom often found himself pondering the thought of where to go with his future. He had made his first kill and now led top patrols as appointed by Sabletail. Where could his future go now? Deputyhood and leaderships were still well out of reach- he wouldn't have the chance until he managed to train a sniveling apprentice. So then what? All signs pointed to parenthood.

Not that he particularly wanted to deal with kits- the sorry scraps were too whiny and messy, he wouldn't dare be caught touching one. But the spread of his bloodline was a glistening thought. It reminded him of his milk days where even his cold and calculated mother had made the valiant effort to tackle raising her own kits and look how he turned out! If Saltweed could do it by herself, then Foxeyes could do much better with the proper partner. Another smug grin colored his face in the dark. And that's where the other two came into place in his grand scheme of things- perhaps Miredawn, albeit a bit young and soft for his tastes, could bear his offspring if he pressed her enough. Or more preferably, perhaps Stoatwhisker would. She was a stern and straight-arrowed warrior with respect to her name. She was close with Saltweed as well, so that could allow for the family to stay tightly knit. Or why not both? He seemed almost giddy as he mulled it over. Then he really would be glowered at with envious eyes by his clanmates. Oh, how that idea seemed great!!

As he pondered his great thoughts, the scent of mouse and blood rose up thickly just ahead and his dreamy gaze sharpened to thin slits. Orange eyes scanned over the forlorn barn which stood within their territory and faint squeaks of tormented mice signaled to him that they were not alone in their hunt tonight.

Creeping ever closer, the tom peered through a crack in the wooden wall to see the lackadaisical shape of Onyx about her mess of mice. A deep, red anger filled Foxeyes' form as his spine prickled up. There was an outsider not only on their territory, but making a mess of their prey. With a low growl, he signaled to the other she-cats with his bushy tail before pushing his way into the barn. They wouldn't allow for this freeloader to get away with all this disrespect- he would make sure they would see and pay. This was his terf.

[gingersnapsdacat]

    Stoatwhisker padded along at a steady pace, always staying one stride behind the rest of her patrol. Perhaps it was because she did not think she could lead, or perhaps it was because she felt that it was her duty to keep the cats she cared about safe within her view. When she was at their back, nothing would be able to hurt them without her seeing it first. After all, they were the closest thing to a family she supposed she would ever have, and she needed to protect them at all costs. 
    As they neared the farm, Stoatwhisker found herself nearly knocked flat by the overwhelming scent of blood. 
"What in StarClan's name?" she cursed under her breath, following Foxeyes to look into the barn.
    Her golden eyes narrowed, focusing on the shape of a large, furry she-cat lounging in a mess of half-eaten prey. Immedietly, she retreated, scanning the area for the best way to sneak around and take the intruder by surprise. Had it been up to her, they would have found some dark corner in which they could have slowly closed in upon this strange intruder. However, she was not leading the patrol, and she would follow the wishes of Foxeyes. So, Stoatwhisker quickly followed him to the front of the barn, wherein they confronted their foe. Inside the barn, the sight of mutilated mice caused her stomach to turn.
"This is just...sick."
She turned her gaze back to the furry intruder, claws unsheathed. 
"Just what do you think you are doing here?"

[Dragon]

Onyx re-entered the barn and curled up in her next she made a couple of days ago. She realized she would need to leave soon with the scent of blood and death so heavy it wouldn't be long before it attracted the clan's attention. But she wanted to try and destroy the mouse colony living here first. She placed her muzzle on her front paws and curled her tail over her nose about to take a nap when the sound of paw steps approaching reached her ears. Onyx thought about burrowing under the hay but there wasn't time they had already spotted her. Looking up from her relaxed position she spotted three cats. She yawned as if she was bored. Once stepped forward and said this was sick. She wanted to laugh but all she did was smile. "Me?" She blinked innocently at the clan cat. "I'm just a barn cat the twolegs brought to kill the mice," she purred in a soft voice. Her eyes held laughter she had no idea if the clan cats would buy her lie or not. If they did they were dumber then she thought.

[gingersnapsdacat]

    Stoatwhisker stared at the rogue, feeling every inch of her pelt prickling with hot anger. She had dealt with rogues before. Her own veins ran with rogue blood. But this was just disgraceful. It was a mockery. Even the most vicious of rogues had valued life. But this cat did not seem to care at all. 
"I'm just a barn cat the twolegs brought to kill the mice."
    The white she-cat hissed, her claws sinking deeper into the soil. She knew the kind of cats that the two legs liked to bring in, and this...monster did not fit that description. Stoatwhisker knew that she should have allowed Foxeyes to lead, but she could not help but feel the need to go forth. Perhaps she felt that she needed to protect him, just as she always did for his mother, Saltweed. The she-cat took a few careful strides, closing the gap between her and the rogue. 
"I offered you a chance to explain yourself. You wasted it. Now I will give you one chance to leave, or face our claws."
OOC: mewmehh Dragon

[mewmehh]

Foxeyes' pelt bristled to threatening points as he listened to the exchange, moving like a snake around Stoatwhisker. The white warrior had pushed forward a bit towards the front and addressed the rogue with contempt- something about the snide and halfhearted response Onyx responded with not only rubbed the she-warrior the wrong way, but had the tom up in arms. With orange eyes glittering angrily, he flexed beside Stoatwhisker and listened as she bid her last warning. Behind them, Saltweed and Miredawn growled lowly in resonance.

Claws sliding silently out into the hay-laden floor, Foxeyes' gaze twitched from Onyx to Stoatwhisker and back again like a hair-trigger, and his breathing was a hushed as a ghost. They weren't going to be leaving without a fight; he wouldn't allow for it. This cat had not only disrespected them by mindlessly slaughtering their prey, but also by being far too cheeky with their clanmates.

Sparing only a stray glance for Stoatwhisker for a split second as a quick message, the jet black tom immediately dashed forward like a strike of lightning at Onyx. His sleek, muscular warrior body likely out-shined the straggler stray's as he made the most of his gait to close the gap of safely between the pair. Long, thorn-like black claw slid through the air as he cuffed the she-cat with a sneaky underswipe, aiming to lash at her softest spot and maneuvering himself over the smaller cat in the attempting to press her down with all of his strength.