Enter the Shadows

[Yoko]

"All clear?"

"All clear," replied the golden brother.

They emerged from behind the pile of rubbish coolly, an odd pair. The shorter gray tom with black spots strutted confidently in the unfamiliar territory. Meanwhile, the taller golden tom, also patterned with black spots, pranced forward, swinging his head from side to side. They were hardly being quiet.

"Do you think we have the wrong place, Drake?" asked the golden one.

"'Course not," replied the gray, "How can we. We followed them directions perfect, didn't we?"

"I guess so, but this place gives me the chills. It's so quiet and empty," the golden one said, looking about with wide eyes.

"Cool it, Tybalt! You're fidgeting will get us busted!"

"So you think this Snaketail tom is really the tom? He sounds like a total hotshot! What would someone like him want with Auntie Helen?"

"Who knows? I've seen toms with stranger taste," Drake replied, then he flicked his tail up and stopped moving. "You hear somethin'?

There was no way to scent beyond the stench of housefolk rubbish. All around there were piles of trash, and for a moment even Drake found it hard to "be cool". His ears flicked and his eyes swept the area.

"Who's out there?"

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Look at the two kittypet toms, wandering around the dump like they knew where they were going. Foolish morsels probably thought they were alone, but they weren't, not with the two dark shapes that were trailing them like shadows through the filth. The two cats ghosting through the garbage and debris were kittypets themselves, but they did not consider themselves anything so demeaning as the pets of a human. They were above such things, they were. Yes, Nyx and Ciar belonged only to each other, and that was how it always would be. It couldn't be any other way, you see?

The two cats - or was it one cat in two bodies? - continued to slide quietly around the two toms that they were stalking. These kittypets were new to them, for usually they targeted much older or younger prey, but the two wouldn't turn down any chance for mischief. Something about the toms seemed familiar, like they were more alike to their pursuers than to the other kittypets that the two wraith-like cats had encountered. It might have been their spots, those long, sand-dune markings on coats that bore no resemblance to their own dark-spotted pelts, but were familiar just the same.

But if they thought their similar build and heritage made them equals to their followers, then they would be wrong. Nyx and Ciar had no equals, only inferiors and annoyances. As one, the two shapes suddenly broke off in different directions. They made no signals, and they needed none. They knew that they had the same thoughts in mind.

At the silvery tom's mew, one shape let itself be glimpsed, skimming over the trash to dart behind another pile of garbage. Then it appeared again, but this time on the other side, as a black tail disappearing behind an overturned barrel. Was it one cat, or was it two? "Who indeed?" A black shape flashed past directly in front of them. "Wouldn't you like to know." Something rattled behind them and to the right. Mocking laughter drifted through the air, seeming to come from all directions at once. "Who is this? Who are you? If you tell me, I might tell you!"

[Yoko]

Tybalt literally jumped back at the sight of them. His pelt bristled and his ears flew back. He snarled, doing his best to act like a wild cat. But when he glanced to see if his brother had his back, he saw that Drake had merely twisted his head to see the two. The silver spotted tom hardly looked bothered and in fact he looked rather smooth. Cursing his own rashness, Tybalt straightened up and tried to look tough anyway.

"Name's Drake," the silver brother mewed, then jerked his head to the side, "He's Tybalt. What brings house pets like you to these parts? 'S a long way from house folk."

Tybalt did not understand Drake's attitude. He thought his brother was street-tough. Why was he being all cool around cats that were clearly stalking them. The golden tom didn't like the look of these too. They looked...sinister.

"Well well well, what have we here?"

Tybalt's head jolted to his right. Not as sinister as that voice. Two tabby toms slid from around the corner of one of the piles. A tall, fuzzy, cat with amber eyes was the one who spoke. To his right was a slightly shorter tabby with icy green eyes.

"Tsk tsk," the tall one mewed. "They're practically kits, Lizardeye. What would young kittypets like you be doing wondering about this filthy place?"

Drake was startled. Four? This could be trouble. The tall cat looked friendly enough but the stare of that shorter one was giving him the creeps. They looked curiously ungroomed, yet they carried themselves in a way that was not frightened or threatening. Most street cats were real protective of their hiding places, in Drake's experience. He wondered if these were the Clan Cats Helen had spoken of. Now for the tough part...does he reveal their mission? What if they're told to go away? But there was no chance that they could get out without an explanation either.

"We ain't kids, pal," Drake mewed, putting the record straight. "And we came all this way to find some tom named Snaketail. Do you know him?"

The amber-eyed tabby looked startled. "Why yes in fact...you're speaking to him."

Lizardeye studied the four cats intently. He had not anticipated that this place would not be safe from non-Clan Cats. After all, this was quite a distance from two-leg place. Yet there were four here. He wondered if this compromised all their hard work this morning, but he doubted it. The well-fed kittypets did not at all look frightened and startled as they should be.

The silver-spotted tom's words caused a small ripple of shock in him. Had Snaketail's nightly activities finally caught up with them? But the odd words of the young tom had not explained why there were so many cats here. The cold tabby stared at the two cats, who looked so incredibly similar. Judging by the words he and Snaketail had overheard, they did not have the same reasons for being here.

"And what about you? What's your business here?" he mewed icily.

[Mousy]

[OoC:// Is it OK if I come in here?]

White, Near mused, was not the right colour for sneaking. He wished he had his sister's dark pelt, or, heck, any pelt colour that wasn't white. Even brown would do. Brown! He sighed, wondering why he had actually followed these foolish cats this far: if he wasn't with Fireshadow, Toadpelt or Swiftstorm, he certainly wouldn't be safe.

Come to think of it, where was Fireshadow?

He didn't know.

It wasn't that it troubled him; he didn't really mind. Just, he was used to travelling ShadowClan's territory with one- or all three- of his friends.

Oh well.

Usually, as well, he would be with his sister. She was back at the Loners' Barn. Hmm. It was odd to be out without her, but, somehow, he welcomed the quietness. His sister would usually chattering away like nobody's business by now.

He knew the rules of the forest; this was ShadowClan's territory, so he couldn't hunt here, so he wouldn't. He just came here to admire their territory. He liked the marshes. He would amost always get his pelt pretty darn mucky, as well. Then, no-one at the Loners' Barn would recognize him, and he could play some cruel tricks.

It mightn't have been like him to abandon his sister, but, heck, he wanted to be on his own for once. It was better than having to stay by her side all the time. Somehow, he didn't like to stay with her constantly. It seemed immature, but she was annoying sometimes. Particularly after the dog incident. Oh, that had been embarrassing. Very embarrassing. Outsmarted by a stupid twoleg's dog! But, never mind that.

As he looked around, he saw the ShadowClan toms. And a threatening dark tom. He didn't recognize him for a second, but, as he stepped forwards, he became more and more familiar.

Grey body, pocked with scars. Dark green eyes. And, spreading over the left side of his face, a terrible, terrible burn scar, looking like fire itself.

This was the one Fireshadow had told him to be careful of.

Hawktalon. Not a kind cat. Not at all. He could easily kill Near if he wanted to. But Near also knew that he had an apprentice. How rediculous. A sensitive young cat, being trained by this brute?

"Oh dear..." he muttered. He considered his options. They were: stay and get injured. Run and get caught.

Running seemed more pleasant.

[Yoko]

ooc: You're quite welcome Mousy. :3 But its easier to rp with you if your cats aren't already locked in some kind of mortal danger. Don't worry, our kitties bite and scratch just as much as Hawktalon, so Near won't be bored.

Lizardeye was further distracted by a flash of gray fur. He had been certain that he had spotted all the cats here but...He momentarily brushed aside the interesting twin kittypets and followed the gray through the stench of this place. Rounding yet another pile of trash, he caught a glimpse of Hawktalon cornering some small white cat. This one looked less groomed than the other kittypets, and less plump as well. Possibly it was a loner.

"Hawktalon? You weren't going to use unnecessary force on such a near kit, were you?"

From behind him he heard Snaketail's shocked mew, "There are more? What is this a kittypet convention?! All right, every cat had better clear out of here, immediately! Or you'll be forcibly removed!"

That may not sound so threatening in Snaketail's elegant wording, but the tall tabby backed it up with a rather fierce growl and his fur was fluffing up to twice its size. The taller tabby's amber gaze blazed with hostility.

Snaketail is quite a good actor, Lizardeye mused. There was no way his brother would seriously harm the silver tom and his golden companion, especially if they had any connection with Helen. But he was convincing enough to full any ShadowClan Warrior as well. Lizardeye brushed these thoughts aside and crouched, battle-ready, on Hawktalon's other side his cold green gaze fixed on the twin cats, but he made no move until Snaketail leaped out at the silver tom.

Drake had no clue what was going on. Why were all these cats so intent on following him? He had never seen any of them in his life! A bit annoyed now, his expression was that of a scowl as Snaketail threatened them. Didn't he care at all that Helen was having his kits? But slowly, Drake caught on. Ahhhh, I got 'cha.

Tybalt looked scared witless. He had no idea what was happening, and Drake thought it might be better for it to stay that way. Smugly, Drake replied, "You wouldn't dare!"

Tybalt gasped, "Are you crazy?!"

Snaketail pounced, Drake shoved Tybalt away and darted just out of Snaketail's claws. Tybalt looked ready to stand and fight, but Drake snarled at him.

"RUN YOU DUNCE!" he hissed, circling around to dart for the exit. He was a little concerned for the twins and the loner, but hey, survival of the fittest!

As he dashed for the entrance behind his brother, he glanced back and say that cat, Lizardeye, standing between the twins and the way out. He looked pretty fierce for a quiet cat. Then Snaketail's jaws nearly ripped open Drake's tail and the silver tom bolted out of there. So long, you stalkers!

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

The dark-colored cats left the silver kittypet's question hang for a bit, as if they were considering whether or not to answer. In reality they were simply waiting to make their new acquaintances wonder where they were, but they didn't have the chance to follow up on it because soon another pair of cats appeared from the nearby swamp. These cats looked quite big and powerful, and their unkempt fur bespoke of a rough life. Slobs, had they no respect for their own appearance? Both shadowy cats ran a pink tongue over their black, faintly spotted fur as if in response to the thought. Then they slid silently out from their hiding places and climbed atop a plastic crate to watch the proceedings, as if they themselves had nothing to do with anything that was going on.

The big toms were talking to the other kittypets, and it seemed like the so-named Tybalt and Drake had been looking for them. Or one of them, at least. Did it matter to them? Not really. Pursuing the matter might be something to do, if it proved worth their time. Although the other tom looked quite sharp-eyed, so it would probably be more trouble than it was worth. He was talking to them now, asking after their reasons for being where they were. Mange-furred thing was asking them what they were doing there? What, was this their patch or something? Fitting if it was, although neither twin cared either way. One of the cats had yucky, fuzzy fur, and the other one had a bald patch on his tail. How unimpressive.

"Business?" the two drawled inquiringly. "How dull. You make it sound like a chore. We like games much better." Swivelling their eyes over to the sound of new arrivals almost at the same time, the young cats saw yet another scruffy wild cat and a younger, smaller one as well. What a crowd, there were far too many cats there for them to be interesting any longer. At this point it was just annoying to still be sitting there while these cats bickered and mewled at each other.

Oooooh, the scruffy cats were getting violent. That was interesting, but it was too interesting now. The two cats were after a bit of play, not getting dirty or bloodied. That would be so bothersome, yes. Much too inconvenient to get into anything resembling a fight, it simply wasn't on their agenda. Getting to their paws in one synchronized movement, the two cats glanced in opposite directions and hopped down from their crate, heading idly towards the exit before noting that the bald-tailed cat was standing there, silent but looking quite serious. "How bothersome," said one. "Most annoying," the other replied. Both blinked at the tom and yawned rudely before turning as one and streaking back the way they had come, most likely heading towards what ever other way that they had found into the place. Their game was over, so they left the stupid white cat to his tormentor and let the scruffy tabbies do what they would.

[Mousy]

Hawktalon blinked. Usually, he would be able to come up with an articulate comment about strange cats such as these ones, but, great StarClan, they were taking weird to a whole new level! He looked over at the white loner tom, blinking. He shrugged his skinny shoulders.

In the spur-of-the-moment, Hawktalon decided to be nice.

"You should leave here, young one," he warned, an edge to his voice. The white tom nodded.

"Th-thank you," he said, ducking his head and running back towards the Barn. Hawktalon chuckled.

"Foolish cat," he mewed, then padded back towards camp.

[/color][/blockquote][/justify]

[Yoko]

Lizardeye thought it rather odd of Hawktalon to be so kind, but he blinked in knowledge that it was none of his concern. He turned tail and left the gray warrior to whatever business he had to attend too.

Calmly, he glided out of the two-leg dump and followed his brother and the cats he was chasing without any worry at all.'

ooc: Weak Close >.<