Blood. He looked down at his paws, crimson caked his fur and claws. Blood pooled around them as it seeped from Goldenclaw's neck wound, the lifeless cobalt stare locked onto him as the warrior took her last breathe. Her body fading slowly as the Dark Forest molly lost her final life, disappearing from this world to the next. His malachite daggers dug into the ground as he watched her leave this world, pain racking his own body from the wound she had given him. Not his first scars, but definitely not his last.
Blood again. This time, it had been Tansyface's. He had clawed at her after she had egged him on. His dark claws had met her ember and ebony fur, slashing against her ear. He had refused to kill her, a crack in his nearly perfect armor. A flash of anger had become sorrow for a brief moment, but soon was extinguished as he turned his back on his former clanmate. Kai was the stone-cold killer that the young apprentice had dreamed off, but he felt hollow and incomplete. That was when he had decided that this life wasn't for him.
Blood pooled at his paws again. This time as he and Tansyface escaped from BloodClan. He had left the life of a tyro behind. The guard clawed at him as he bleed out onto the concrete floor. The crimson fluid sticky against his chocolate fur. His copper gaze remorseful as he left the life of savagery behind him. A life wasted as the tom's body went limp. His corpse left there to rot.
All of his sins had left him to wonder. Was he truly a good cat? Many would say he had grown since his youth. Now, a level-headed deputy with a kind heart. However, his anger still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make its appearance. It had clawed its way to the surface a few times since his youth, finding its way into his heart. With this war ahead, tensions had grown within the clan's walls. His mate, Briarthorn, hadn't been around lately. The chocolate tabby missed the brown tabby dearly and knew she was his rock in difficult times. Their children had been a welcomed gift, but even they couldn't stop him from becoming angry.
The deputy looked at the border of DarkClan. His copper gaze was full of anger. They had gone against the code and StarClan. The ebony leader had given them nothing but grief. A few of the DarkClan cats had been kind and hadn't stolen from them, but many had. Even a former ShadowClan warrior, one he once deemed a good clanmate of his, had broken his trust. The bengal's fur rippled with anger. His malachite claws unsheathed, a snarl forming on his maw as he stood in place. His tail lashing behind him furiously, slashing against the ground as it moved. Owlflight knew that war was nearly here. What if he just managed to slash the throat of Pitchstar? He would lose his own life in the process, but it would finally end the battle. The war would rage on until nothing but a bloody battlefield was left. Corpses would lay in place and crimson would pool around each body.
All he wanted was peace to reign again. He wanted Briarthorn and his kits safe. He wanted his clan safe. Owlflight would find a way to make this happen, even if it cost him his own life. With a huff, the chocolate tom turned from the mountainous clan and started to make his way back towards his home. Perhaps he needed to be brash like Tigersparks. Fighting for the peace that he so longed for. His thoughts were demanding action, but the diplomatic side of him demanding that he remain stoic and respectful. His heart yearned to fight the demons that threatened his happiness, his home, his family.
As he walked back, his fur clung to his body once more. His tail relaxed behind him. His anger faded from his copper gaze. Any cat that hadn't witnessed his breakdown wouldn't have a clue of the anger that was chained inside of his heart. The former killer was poised to fight once more. His past self was demanding blood be shed for crimes committed, but for now, he wore the mask of Owlflight. The kind, calm deputy.
