[ti]Private[/ti]Watch Out

[Fireflake]

Vulture the Rogue

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Vulture prowled through IvyClan territory, his pawsteps falling too heavily for him to be discreet. It wasn't his main concern right now. Clasped beneath his jaws was the rigid body of a crow he'd caught not long ago. It had temporarily placated his urge to bite down on something, as he hoped it would any doubts his group might have. He didn't want them to think he was giving them second-rate food because he didn't care about them.

Though he wasn't stalking now, he continued on into IvyClan territory. His paws and mind wandered. He had been born into the rogue group downtown. His mother was a kittypet, yes, but his father had raised his brothers and he. His father, the fearsome Eaglewing. Vulture's thoughts and feelings didn't make themselves any scarcer than the tom himself. Lashing tail and his teeth sinking into the bird in his mouth, his eyes were the only thing that didn't betray him.

Betrayal. There was the trigger word. Vulture knew deep in his heart that he wouldn't betray his group, but doubts flew around his mind and chattered wildly about what they might believe. Too worked up to check his surroundings properly, the tom only dragged himself back into the present moment when he caught the flicker of strangers in the distance. He'd found in the past moon or so, since he'd turned about eight moons old, that his vision was much sharper, wider almost, than it had been before. His narrowed his pale blue eyes and paused to glare at the clan cats.

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mewmehh

[mewmehh]

Dusty fawn and red tortoiseshell fur flashed past greenery here and there as a pair of warriors worked their way along the perimeter of Ivyclan's boundaries, pausing every so often between markings to stalk the stray mouse or magpie. It wasn't very difficult work, but a touch tedious, and nothing new, thus Bushfire and Aloestream found themselves in lulled states, one from boredom and the other from mental exhaustion.

Bushfire chewed lightly on a tawny mouse that she had packed into her mouth beside a shrimpy shrew, boredly rubbing her teeth to the point where fine furs found themselves caught between her fangs. Her firelight eyes flashed lazily, their orange hue subdued and dull. She understood why they had to tighten their grasp on their borders; with cats wandering in and out, Ivyclan was in a bind. But the stocky cat was unsure as to why she had been stuck with the most boring of cats, Aloestream. The curl-earred warrior didn't like fighting, not even training, and also seemed downcast and gloomy. It was a bummer to the sporty she-cat and she cursed her luck at being stuck with her peer. At least the job would be handled more quickly with Aloestream's help.

But Bushfire's qualms weren't the only ones had. Aloestream herself had some misgivings about being out and about. Yes, she had jumped at the chance to run a border patrol, but she hadn't expected to be paired with a cat practically her same age. She had wanted to work with someone older, someone more wise and someone to prove her intelligence to. Bushfire wouldn't care about how organized her patrol plan was or any other things she had plotted out. All she wanted to do was be done with it all and return to whatever barbaric hobbies she had, like wrestling and whatnot. It left Aloestream with a bitter taste in her mouth, which lingered all the way from camp to where they were patrolling in the Araios Woods.

The annoying taste only was forgotten when an unfamiliar scent washed over it, masking it with its dirty, foul taste. The pale warrior wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brows, casting her light blue eyes off across the border. Nothing. Then where is that smell coming from? She kept at it until the scent hit her from the wrong side. The Ivyclan side.

With her fur fluffed up, Aloestream met Vulture's equally blue eyes and her blood turned to ice. Standing before her was a stranger; likely one of the rogues that had attacked the clans. One who stole their kits and killed many a clan cat. These before her stood a killer.

Aloestream's hackles rose and she let out a low, almost moaning growl that grabbed Bushfire's attention in an instant. The black and ginger warrior was quickly at her companion's side, her caught pieces of prey long forgotten as new prey fell into her line of sight.

Fireflake

[Fireflake]

Vulture the Rogue

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Vulture held his glare as the clan cats moved along their border. His paws felt like stones that forced him to stand his ground. He had been here a few moons ago with Honeyheart and run into two cats then as well. Accusations had been flying around, many flying over his own head, but it never came to slashes. The tom realized suddenly that he didn't care if this did. He could see the light-colored cat freeze. So that was his decision made for him.

Vulture returned Aloestream's growl with his own forceful, gravelly sound, muffled by the feathers of the crow in his jaw. No matter. His lashing tail and flattened ears spoke loud enough for him. The rogue's mind darted away to the border, past the clan cats to his possible escape, but his eyes didn't dare. His stare continued to glide unblinkingly between the two clan cats.

After a few long moments, the crow tumbled from his mouth and thumped lightly onto the ground. A small black feather stuck to the side of his mouth and he made no move to get rid of it. The fresh-kill safely on the ground and under his paw, he bore his sharp, blood-tipped teeth and followed his first growl with another. Time slowed in his mind. He didn't feel... normal. He was still in hunting mode. One sharp move, and-!

Vulture took a deep breath and hissed, "Run along, Ivy kitties."
Any other rogue would have unsheathed his claws at this point, or long before this point. Any other rogue could use their claws properly, though. Vulture didn't think his own would be any more threatening than a clan kit's. He swallowed. Surely the warriors wouldn't be looking at his paws right now? "Go on, I'll let you go," he taunted as if he had control over the situation.

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mewmehh