Posts by Flight | Skulls

OOC: None taken XD.

IC: "I'll help, too," Flight meowed stridently, padding confidently after the two. "You'll need someone to scoop up the prey you can't carry."

Flight frowned at the trespasser, then shook her head at Maxwell. "Thanks, but no thanks. We'll take her to CollateralDamage, get her fixed up, and probably keep her as a Peasant. Or we could just wait until she comes to and get her over to the border; we have too many she-cats as is." She paused, waiting for one of them to weigh in.

"We'll be glad to have you," Flight purred, smiling back at her niece. She enjoyed thinking of the young she-cat as family; she was lovely in her own special way, and even though Flight wasn't connected to her by blood, she felt as if she was, and truly loved her as a niece.

Flight nodded brusquely. "Lead the way, Maxwell." She hadn't had much direct contact with the monkey, but a monkey in the Skulls warranted that she know his name.

OOC: No muse.

Flight brushed mice together with her paws, then grabbed the tails in her mouth, gently so as not to rupture the bodies. She padded from the Herb den, clutching her slimy bundle and glancing around for a flat place to put it.

OOC: I wasn't really going to post here.

"I can tell," Flight commented, smiling faintly. Kits amused her greatly, and she was used to their antics- having a brother who aged backwards helped with that. "You'll be a great help to the Skulls." Jedi was completely ignored; his scowl went unseen, and her full attention was quite intentionally fixed on Ductkit.

Flight strolled toward the two sacrifices, smiling thoughtfully. Anyone might think she was wondering what to select from a heap of prey. In a way, she was, in fact, doing just that. Unsheathed claws clicked faintly against the rough stone floor of the cave. Her eyes, hardened into chips of ice, glittered as she gazed at the two heathens. The black-furred she-cat slashed precisely, but almost nonchalantly at first the blue tom, then the white one, each on the forehead, neither strong enough to do more than scratch the skull.

Flight glared back at Charon, seething inside but not daring to interrupt the ceremony. Her promotion counted for nothing to those who refused to believe she had earned it. You would think scratching out the eyes of a tom who had taken over the High Positions' minds would earn her respect- she certainly had- but quite a few toms treated her as a Peasant who had broken a minor but unforgivable law.

Flight silently padded toward the group, frowning slightly. It appeared some intervention was needed here, and while she wasn't sure if she could provide it, she might as well try. "Hello," she purred, stepping deliberately in between the Skulls and the Future. "I don't believe I've met any of you yet."

Flight smiled at him, an unmistakable hint of warning in her eyes. "I'd be more respectful to your superior, young Future. That includes me as well as the two gentlemen beside me. I suggest you cool your tongue and your temper before they get you into more trouble than you're already in." The black-pelted she-cat sat, curling her tail over neat paws, viewing him with a face that was decidedly cool.

Flight half turned, fixing the tom with a frosty stare. Arson's quip behind her made her feel threatened, but she firmly kept her back to him. She would not be intimidated.
"Perhaps you've forgotten." Flight's words were clipped, her tone as cold as her eyes. "I am no longer a Peasant. I have been promoted to Skull, and as such, I stand on a level with you. The rule you quoted belongs to RadicalClan, which has different ranks for toms and she-cats. Nowhere in the Skulls' law is it specifically stated that the highest she-cat is above the lowest tom. If that were true, Scythe's mate, who was a True Skull, would be a lower rank than any male Peasant. If you say I am below the Future behind me, then you are as well. I will not stand to be treated as scum any longer. I am your equal, and have earned the right to be treated as such. If you need proof, ask Nebuchadnezzar, Voltaire, or Collateraldamage, because it's clear you wouldn't take my word for it." The Skull was sick and tired of being treated as a Peasant. Too many toms refused to acknowledge her accomplishment and promotion. Flight turned back to Arson, allowing her fury to show. "You have no right to threaten me or any Skull. Sheathe your claws."

"Irrelevant," Flight replied calmly, recovering her tranquil appearance and turning once more. "I named two other sources, both reliable and in positions of power, who could confirm my claim. The point of including Nez was not because he was a high position- which, as you so succinctly point out, he is no longer- but because he could be trusted to tell you the truth. And though there may not be much reason to you for my interruption, I saw it necessary to avert what seemed to be rapidly evolving into a brawl. Do you deny the necessity of keeping the peace?"

"And I was to know that how?" Flight demanded, ignoring Arson's threats. "It didn't look like you had things under control. I offer my apologies if I stirred things up even more, but from what I saw, you were going to start ripping each other's fur out. From what I've heard, the Future behind me still intends to. If this is under control, I'd like to see your version of chaotic." She wasn't sure who the 'little bastard' was that Arson was referring to; beside the rude threats and condescension, she didn't want to confuse herself.

"Hmm." Flight strolled from the undergrowth and set down the mice swinging in her grip. "While I enjoy the occasional slaughter as much as the next cat, this is a kit. She's causing no trouble whatsoever, besides being on our territory; taking her in is out of the question, I suppose, but isn't our policy to chase intruders off where we don't accept them as members? We all want to be cruel at times, but turning her out would be giving her a crueler fate than taking her in would be. It's doubtful she'd find her mother, and we would be shoving her away to die slowly." Flight shrugged, showing she didn't really care either way. She was offering a suggestion, and if it was turned down, she would join in the murder. "Let her waste away, pathetically crying out for her mother to save her, chased away by all clans she comes across. Let her squeal for mercy as she is dragged, weak and lonely, down a badger's set or into a dog's pen. Why have her die in this manner, bright- eyed and hopeful? Let her know some real pain first," Flight finished, eyes glittering, suddenly eager to force this kit away to die slowly from sorrow and starvation. "If she makes the mistake of returning, sure, torture and kill her. We could even rough her up a little before shoving her away."

Flight frowned at him, finding his stuck-up, condescending tone irritating. "Was it, now? A group's thoughts and decisions can always be changed. You seem to believe, too, that I would have listened to the consensus beforehand. I was only here long enough to hear a small part of it, too little to realize that a decision had been made, and I doubt you would have taken kindly to me lurking around close enough to hear a greater part of the exchange. Am I correct?" It seemed Dioscuri was petty enough to nitpick on her every move. Perhaps his twin was different, but she doubted it; from the little she saw of the two of them, they were of one mind. Wonderful- yet another set of idiots to make her life miserable.

"Sometimes it isn't possible to enter something early," Flight replied calmly. "I take slight offense at the fact that you assume this is what I always do, after only having been associated with me twice. True, I have entered a few conversations late; true, you have been involved only in those conversations in which I have." She cocked her head to the side, considering for a moment. "We have gotten off on the wrong paw. Clearly, both of our lives will be made rather difficult if we continue in this vein. I propose a truce; neither judges the other, leaving opinions out of conversations and becoming open to forming new opinions. Do you agree?" She would rather make a truce with the more outspoken of the twins than dread any encounter with him.

Flight sighed. "I was attempting to offer an alternative for the kit's fate. Dioscuri here disagreed with me quite stridently." To the tom in question, she shook her head slightly. "I leave the truce offer open for now. Take it if you wish." Turning wearily, the she-cat picked up her catch and departed. She no longer cared what happened to the kit in question. Fortis, Dioscuri angered her.

Flight emerged from the nearby undergrowth, a sparrow's wing in her jaw. She frowned briefly, then dropped her bird and shook her head at Kyka. "Did I forget to tell you about Futures not being allowed out of camp without a Skull? Never mind. I'll escort you back. Did you catch anything today?" She smiled genially at him, enjoying the crisp morning. Little was on her mind, her thoughts were clear; it was just a normal day to her.

OOC: Low muse XD.

Flight frowned in concern at Kyka's stammers. "Are you okay?" she asked, padding over to him and sniffing for any sign of sickness. "Is something wrong?" Something hit her mind, a startled realization, and she frowned more deeply, worried. "Is another Future picking on you because of who your mentor is?" The words came out as a growl. Several very arrogant toms refused to accept her promotion, treating her as a Peasant and turning up their noses at her protests. She fought down a burst of fury and peered curiously at Kyka.