Post by ` `shadsywadsy. on Jul 6, 2013 21:20:37 GMT -5
Come let the, revolution takes its toll
Rise up and take the power back
It's time the, fat cats had a heart attack
You know that, their time's coming to an end
We have to, unify and watch our flag ascend
The sun was warm on the toms back. His pelt, which had a raven hue, soaked up all the heat and didn't let any out. It was trapped inside his body, making his insides boil. This would drive most cats mad, but he thought of it as more of a blessing. It was a great thing to have in the winter, and the only draw back was the hot summer months that plagued this area. But as he walked across Windclan territory, it was worse than when he was in the shady forest that shrouded his little cottage just outside of town. His skin crawled under his pelt, and not just his muscles rippling from the pace he was walking at. Just when he thought he would have to stop for a drink of water somewhere, a cloud covered up the sun's terrible rays and gave him reprieve. He let out an audible sigh and continued trekking onward toward Windclan camp.
He was on a mission, and he wouldn't let anyone stop him. It was written all over his face and the way he walked. He was not a large tom, but he wasn't small either. His broad shoulders and large paws had hidden power as well as speed. His size didn't inhibit how quick his movements were. Though he couldn't outrun a Windclan cat or out match a Shadowclanner in strength, he had enough of both to defeat most opponents that crossed his path. He was a machine built for killing, and he had the scars to prove it on his heart. He never chose to elbe the monster his father made.
The tall blades of grass hid his body but not his head, allowing him to see the slate gray she-cat heading toward him with incredible speed. She skidded to a halt right in front of him, and looked up and down. But a smile lifted her face, and he could tell she instantly trusted the tom.Hey there darlin, what are ya doin on these parts?
He smiled at her distinct accent and sweet composure. She held herself with poise and elegance, but she was not one who had fun very often. Such a shame, too. Her naive spirit would be such fun to toy with. I'm here to speak with your leader on account of some... business. Would you be kind enough to lead me to your camp? His voice, deep and smooth, tended to addict cats. They always wanted more, more words to hang in the air and taste. Like were chocolate, sweet and charismatic. Azrael had an uncanny ability to make cats trust him, even the skeptical ones. But he also had the uncanny ability to make enemies. Lets get one thing straight, he is not the perfect tom.
The she-cat nodded and told him her name was Shadedfeather. An interesting name, not one you often heard of. He gave her his name as well, but she said nothing. She turned and motioned with her tail for him to follow, but didn't speak much other than that. Though she trusted him, as he could only assume she trusted all cats, she was a very serious soul. She obviously was very strict and stubborn. He wasn't fond of cats like her. They bored him, and he got bored very easy. And when he got bored, he tended to play around a little. And though he would never harm a she-cat, his father had instilled a playful side to him, one that manipulated and toyed and loved mind games. His intelligence would be his downfall, he knew. As would his insecurities.
When they reached the camp, Azrael couldn't help but to notice how sickly some looked. They must be infected, because no cat could look like that and be healthy. She led him to a den which he could only assume was Lionmask's. Yes, he did keep up with clan business. In fact, he was at the gathering, hiding in the shadows, listening to every word that was said. That was part of the reason he was here. That and Tinsel had convinced him. Why did he even listen to that chattery tom? This was a horrible plan. Horrible. Yet here he was, going through with it because he was a good friend. And this was what his deputy wanted.
She motioned for him to wait and he sat down as she disappeared into the den. He could feel the eyes of all the warriors upon him, watching him with claws unsheathed. Honestly? He was one cat. What harm could one cat do to twenty? None. Exactly. Then again, they were rabies infected cats, so he could only guess they were paranoid. And he didn't really blame them. He swiveled his ears and caught what she was saying to her leader.Lionmask, there'd be a rogue here who calls hisself Azrael. He said he had some business to discuss with ya, and he be only one cat, so i figured it was okay to let him in. He seems friendly.
The tom smiled at her words as he waited for them to reappear. He curled his tail around his sheathed paws, trying to look as harmless as he possibly could. After all, he wanted to strength Windclan, not bring them down. His emotionless gray eyes scanned the warriors that gathered about and apprentices as well. His ebony ears analyzed the hushed whispers. Though they were inaudible and the warrior's gazes harmless, he needed their support for later. He smiled at them, and gently flicked his tail in a greeting. He hoped this worked.
A Z R A E L
[ooc: Shadedfeather is mine, but feel free to make her do things if you need her too. Such as say something, or anything. Idk.]