||;--Prey--;||

[crystalpelt]

Bloodfang opened his mouth, taking in the scents around him. As soon as the cats had left for the gathering, he headed out with Whiteheart. Even though he had just simply suggested going hunting together, that wasn't the case at all. He didn't really care about feeding the Clan; it was greenleaf, they had plenty of food. His main concern was Whiteheart.

He could already tell she would be an easy one to manipulate. She was a kind one; a little too kind for her own good. He seriously didn't think Shadowclan cats were suppose to be this kind. Did she forget what Clan she was in? She wasn't a weak Thunderclan cat; Shadowclan cats are suppose to be fierce and and aggressive but she was different. He wasn't complaining though; this just meant she would be easy prey.

The young cat was the complete opposite of Darkflower. Darkflower was an older and possibly wiser she-cat. She was a perfect example of a true Shadowclan cat; fierce, agressive, and hostile. She had been quick to snap at him even though he hadn't said a word to her. But he expected as much from a Shadowclan cat. Her sharp tongue made her attractive and definitely gained Bloodfang's attention. He had to have her...but he would focus more on her later. He had to make sure his claws was deeply dug into Whiteheart before he moved to another she-cat.

His eyes easily adapted to the darkness of the night. He lifted his head up, looking at Silverpelt. He didn't really believe in Starclan; he had no reason to believe in such a tale. What have Starclan ever done for him? The only reason he was interested in Starclan was because he had heard they granted the leader of a Clan nine-lives. As long as they gave him what he wanted when Specklestar was out of the way, then he would believe in them.

His amber eyes glowed in the night as he then focused on the cat a few kitten-steps away. He slowed his pace, now starting to walk at her side. He needed to know her a little more; know a bit more about her history before he can secure his grip on her. He had to know ever little detail about her that would benefit him in the long-run. "So tell me more about yourself Whiteheart."

||Occ; For Yellow||

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

((Okay, I gots it all figured out. ^^ I was confused earlier about how exactly I was going to have her be but I have an idea. So in case you didn't know, Whiteheart's mate was Goldenwhisker who, for one reason or another which we haven't figured out fully yet, was blamed for a Clan cat's death and was exiled/left. It's a moon and a half since then. Whiteheart will still be able to open up to Bloodfang but it will take some time. =3))

It was cold and silent. Shadows stretched out from every shrub and tree that was rooted to the earth. The full moon hovered overhead, with no clouds around and bathing the territory in an eerie light. She felt out of place, though she was used to the wet, muddy ground, she was better suited to hunting at night. Her bright pelt stood out even more than it usually did, adding to her worries.

She was not in high spirits. It seemed as if yet another trouble was weighing her down, trying to crush her. The recent events just this day sent her back into her anxious fretting. What happened to Brindlepelt? Would she wake up and heal? She hadn't had the chance to check on the other warrior, and she worried helplessly if she would be okay.

Her thoughts drifted back to Fogkit, the little newborn kitten that would never have the chance to open her eyes or play with her siblings or taste fresh-kill for the first time. Her heart ached for the poor thing, never having the chance to live. Would Fogkit find her way to StarClan? Would she be able to watch over them? Whiteheart's throat tightened as she realized something. Had she had a stillborn brother or sister too- a litter mate born dead like Fogkit? Had she had a brother or sister her mother never told her about? What else had been kept from her that she didn't know?

She bit her tongue to keep herself from voicing her concerns out loud. Her yellow gaze slid over to the cat now walking beside her and her breaths seemed to come even faster. Sure, she had accepted his invitation to go hunting, but only because she couldn't bear to say no to someone. Out of consideration, she had agreed to go hunting with him. Who was she to judge, when the same could easily be done to her? Was it just because of his mysteriousness that she felt uneasy? Probably. Even though she tried to make herself calm down, something screamed out at her, not good.

"...Huh?" Whiteheart mumbled in a sudden response to his question. "Oh. Um, I don't know." She said. "What kind of things should I say?"

It wasn't because she had never made conversation like this with anyone before, but because it was hard.

[crystalpelt]

Bloodfang noticed that she was a bit distant, her mind wasn't completely focused on him. He didn't like that truthfully; when he talked to a she-cat she should be giving him her complete attention. But he had to keep reminding himself, this is Whiteheart. She's a timid, shy she-cat. She may not be used to being around toms so much due to her shyness. Or maybe she just felt a little shy when around him. After-all, he isn't a Clan-born cat. He was once a rogue that just got accepted into the Clan not too long ago. Everyone had not came to fully accept him and he could understand that.

He flicked his tail at her words. Did she not understand the question? "I mean like...telll me about you're kit-hood. I want to know more about you, Whiteheart." He told her, gazing deep into her deep amber hues. "Like...who are your parents. Do you have any siblings? What is it like to be an apprentice? Who was your mentor?" He questioned her, settling down on a patch of grass. "I'm not Clan-born so I want to know what it was like for you to be raise in the safety and comfort of a Clan." He told her. For once he was being honest. He wanted to know what it was like to be raised in a Clan.

He was raised as a rogue, by his mother Blackfire and his father Shadow. His mother raised him though, not his father. She made sure she was fed when he couldn't fend for himself. But when he finally went out on his own, he realized how hard it was. Even though he was an excellent hunter and fighter, things did get hard. He was forced to go to bed with an empty belly during the harsh seasons. Plenty of times he had to fight even though he was out-numbered, leaving him wobbling home with serious battle wounds. There was no one to heal his wounds when he was injuried, no one to share tongues with, no one to hunt with, and no one to talk to when he actually felt lonely. Being in a Clan was so different when he had to live the life of a rogue. "If you tell me about your kit-hood. I'll tell you about mine." Even though he had stained his paws with the blood of his kin in the past, he didn't mind sharing it with Whiteheart.

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

((Whiteheart isn't all that shy, she's just... yeah. =P))

Whiteheart suddenly locked eyes with him, and the breath was almost completely sucked out of her. His hypnotizing gaze was almost scary and powerful at the same time. She found herself with her mouth hanging open, trying to find words to answer his question. Oh, things about her life. Things she didn't want to go back to thinking about. Her family, her lonely kithood. In a split second, thoughts came rushing back to her, filling her head with memories and things she could say, but wasn't sure if she wanted to say them.

At last she broke away from his gaze, her eyes trailing on the muddy ground. What would it hurt to tell one more cat? Most in the Clan knew her too well, they grew up with her and she was far too friendly for them to know anything else. "Well, my... my mother's name is Dovepelt. She has white fur like me." She wanted to avoid thinking of such things, but it was too late. "I don't know my father. Dovepelt never told me who he was." Her dull yellow eyes traced the ground as she walked. "And Littlekit, he was my brother."

A nearby movement caught her eye and she looked up a little, seeing a frog jump away from their path. Her tail low to the ground, she felt little desire to go after it. Maybe she could try hunting later. She wasn't in the mood anymore.