HIS KINGS AND HIS MEN — private

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    it was easy, for her, to feel nothing. it was easy to feel no sadness, no regret, no grief. it was easy to feel nothing on the inside when you fel nothing outside.


    she'd never felt things like others had, no hunger, no exhaustion. she felt no pain, and struggled to feel any sort of way when others felt it. she couldn't empathize with them, she couldn't say she knew how they felt because she didn't, she never would. she felt nothing and this made it easy to cross the bridge, the line. to go from trying to psychopath.


    she'd seen so much pain in her life. quietstar was a siamese mass of pain. sheogorath had done nothing but inflict it. her son, the very reincarnation, was uncaring. her children suffered and died, one by one. mangledheart, who she considered a friend at the end of her life, had suffered so much. and the more she saw this, the more she grew numb and tired.


    the snow fell in a torrent, and her fur, only a shade darker then it, almost blended in. it was late and the world was a cocktail of white and darkness, a mixture the feline felt comfortable in. she'd been heading back to camp, the dead body of a rabbit hanging from her jaws, just as white as she was.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=none; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px;font-size:8pt;line-height: 150%;][justify]in contrast to the gray girl, with her gray world, adderpaw found himself red. he was easy to anger, quick to judge, and felt contempt for most of reality. while she felt nothing, he felt too much. and, in hindsight, that's respectively what made each of them dangerous to a point.


    he experienced loss at a young age. his siblings both fell dead due to an idea that was his own. their deaths weighed heavily on him. heavier on his parents, one of which whom died and the other who vanished and was never found. his family was gone and he struggled until he learned to channel it.


    everyone left him eventually - that's conclusion he came to. his one friend had been snowpaw, a girl with a coat as wintry as he name would imply. adder never found out what happened to her, only knew that one day she'd vanished. he didn't feel it his place to cross to shadowclan and ask where his friend had gone. it was obvious to him he wouldn't like the answer.


    dapplestar had been the only other one he'd ever let himself care about deeply. the bond had started rocky, brought into the world on a raid where both had shown their colors. dapple had been fierce, calculated. he admired that. he'd been forward and unconventional. and she had liked that. when they got back, she'd taken him on as an apprentice. moons passed and . . . well she'd died before her demotion. whoever sheogorath had turned over to them was not dapple. he would never believe it was.


    that last one was what had bred what he felt for palemoon. at first, she'd done nothing to deserve it. in the beginning it'd just been misdirected anger at who she had rallied herself with. but then, after the tyrant was dead, she'd gone and brought him back. every death he'd cause, every cat thrown into mourning - it was all her fault then. and everyone else may have been able to look past that, but not he.


    it took one that had experienced the agony of loss to see it for what it really was. only those could pick out the individuals that did the act of hurting. palemoon was one of those people now. she may not have understood, but her son - or whatever he was - put the deaths of many on her shoulders.


    she was a killer, even if she didn't strike the blows.


    paley was walking back, a shadow just barely visible in the blinding white of leafbare's frozen rain. how she could act so solemn and careless was beyond him. for all he cared, she belonged in the cold. that's what she was.


    "you may be welcome, but you're not wanted."


    the words weren't in his usual tone. they weren't burning with venom, nor shouted through a megaphone of rage. no, they were calm. they were precise. in his eyes, he was speaking the truth.
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    "good."


    the response came immediately, her tone matching the toms. her gaze seemed to darken almost immediately, and her eyes never moved off of him as she stopped. she stopped the rabbir, pressed some snow over it's body. she never removed her gaze from his frame.


    "you think i want to be wanted? i'm not exactly the hearts and hugs type, if that wasn't obvious. shouldn't you be in bed, you're an apprentice, you've got training." it wasn't an order, or even a question. just an observation.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=none; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px;font-size:8pt;line-height: 150%;][justify]she must have been happy in life then. she didn't want people to yearn for her presence, and ironically nobody did. certainly not he. should she just fall over dead then and there, he'd have been the happiest cat alive. still, she kept breathing, a fact proven by the air ghosting from her mouth when she spoke once more.


    "you seem more the type to cause suffering and not care. i'd feel bad for you if you actually had a mentality worth pitying," the masculine scoffed. her next words brought a twitch to the close narrow of his viridian eyes, but not much more.


    "why should i be held back by rank when you aren't by age?" a clear rhetoric, and one he didn't wait to receive an answer for. without a beat he continued, "why are you even here? you can't tell me it was because riverclan was too much a burden to you. you don't feel pain. emotions don't drive you to do anything."


    from where he stood in the slowly cascading flurry, the girl before him seemed to almost be swallowed up in the falling snow. a good thought that was; he being eaten up and blinking from existence forever. thunderclan would be safe then. as it were though, her soft slated gray stood strong in his eyesight and continued to remind him of everything she stood for. closing his eyes would be a reprieve, but also and ill move in the face of a killer.
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