Posts by FrostFur77

[justify]Darkmask edged dangerously close to the border, the potent DarkClan stench unfolding in her nostrils like tiny billows of smoke. The vast territory stretched as far as her dusk blue eyes could see, a dark wood looming overhead of the long moorland grass in which she hid, like a towering skeleton enclosing all forms of life within its fruitless branches. Hesitant, the ebony she-cat carefully placed one forepaw beyond the treeline, marking the doorway into DarkClan territory. "No Calvary?" Her menacing laughter rang through the branches and the trees with ease and clarity, though the fur along her spine began to ripple with fear.[/justify]

Confused as to where the gritty snarl had arisen, she merely gave her cryptic reply. "My name is Darkmask, and I wish to join your Clan." She lowered her head respectfully, though silently she swore to have glimpsed two beady eyes glaring back at her from the gloom.

"I swear." A look of wicked delight played beautifully upon the she-cat's childish smirk, as though she were unwavered by the warriors' lean muscles, broad shoulders, and ghastly appearances. Their grim outlines slowly beginning to take shape as they emerged from the shadows, Darkmask instantly swept past the treeline and fell lightly beyond their border with just an easy flex of her muscles. She was in.

Amusement pricked at the dark beauty's pelt, though the female did her best to conceal her wicked laughter from the intoxicated Medusa. "Are you drunk?" Any flicker of spirit had faded from her pale blue optics, astonishment slowly spreading across the she-cat's lifeless expression. Medusa was singing? Dreadful, absolutely dreadful. As though there were real sincerity entangled in her query, the she-cat cautiously pressed forward, edging closer to the lioness's staggering form. [color=white][size=8]"I say to you truly, after witnessing the tragedy that has given such horrendous sound to my ears, nothing after today could proceed to amaze me. Noth- worms?" Her ears flattened to her head, fearful that Medusa would finally slip from her good sanity at any given moment.

Hayy little friend :3

Darkmask had glimpsed Jerome's great silhouette from afar, circling aimlessly through the sleeping pine and barren landscape. However, she hadn't predicted that his arrival would bring such mournful sound to the cats of DarkClan, nor that the bullet which held in his flesh and bone carried a death sentence for all those who dwelled there. A word engraved in lead, engraved in scarlet red. Though the day had come and gone, it felt more like the passing of an age to the dark soldier. Lucky old dog. Jerome had made a first hand encounter with the bloody savages, their names unspoken in this mysterious labyrinth, but written in white letters deep in his very skin. It was thought to be forbidden in the wood to even make the slightest contact with their kind, besides their presence being weak, and scarce beneath these trees. Jerome had done the unthinkable, and the humans had greeted him with a wicked smirk, and an itchy trigger finger. Above all other cats, he now had now grasped a wisdom of their lowly species. For this reason alone, Darkmask had developed hatred for Jerome. To be pierced by the tainted pellet, to taste human blood, to be touched by one, was something that she had never endured. Her dusky stare, cleansed in silver starlight, observed Jerome from a distance. If she had desired his friendship, or any friendship for that matter, then she might've felt sorry for him, aware that the loss of Medusa must have added to the guilt of possibly luring the humans to their homeland.

Edging closer to Jerome's sprawling mass, Darkmask hesitantly extended a mangled forepaw to prod the wounded warrior awake from his slumber. "How is your injury healing?" Her monotonous rasp gave held little foreboding, though a cruel gleam in her eyes might say otherwise.

Darkmask joined the gathering cluster on the lonely hilltop, after weaving her way silently through the tall meadow grasses below, navigating through the endless sea of green until the dirt path beneath her paws bent upward and she was caught in the sun's rays at the slope's peak. She had caught little bits and pieces of their conversation upon her arrival, and after seeing the little smirk wavering on Mangus's face, she knew that something must be dreadfully wrong."You're awfully chipper today, Mangus. Dear dear, how strange! One might even begin to fear for your health." There was something sobering about Darkmask's childish leer, as she cast a sidelong glance at the Clan lieutenant through narrowed blue eyes. She curled up beside the elder's powerful hoofs, recoiling almost immediately at the icy rage that sheared through her body at the touch. Cocking her head, the ebony feline greeted Prongs kindly, though her brisk mew yielded little expression or warmth. "Hello, great one."

Darkmask broke into a steady trot when she saw the crumbling remains of Nochi, but it wasn't until she drew close to the fallen warrior that she realized she had come too late. Murdered. Horror twisted her belly in knots, its icy fingers claiming her throat and grasping it so that this devastation had choked the very breath from her lungs. She cared little for the members of this Clan personally, nor did it pain her to see a warrior come of age, wither away, and die. It also never frightened her when one was killed in the line of duty, this of course was part of life. See, Darkmask had broken away from her ties with her old companions, long, long ago. Yet there was something different about this one, something that made her bones shake when she reached out to touch Nochi's flank. Perhaps she had only grown wary of the murderer. Groping for the right words, the black maine coon merely gave the brute an ugly sob, saying between gritted teeth. "Go peacefully, brave warrior."

Dog stench, she was sure of it this time. Or so she thought, for a strange, fishy odor had also caught on the morning breeze. [i]RiverClan?[/i] "Who is this?" Darkmask was more perplexed than she was angry when the miry riverbank came into her view, for it was rare that they had come across a stray pup foreign to their land, and one that was not their own. How odd. She now had a great vantage point of the scrawny morsel from the opposite shore, her paws completely swamped in the river's grimy filth. Darkmask's back recoiled to form a perfect arch, a small tremor rippling through her body when she set her hostile, blue stare on Juno.

Darkmask had crossed over to their shore, knowing that there was to be considerable bloodshed if they pursued RiverClan, but over a flea bitten, dust mongrel? What a waste! This all seemed rather frivolous to the black maine coon at first, but when the promise in Lancelot's words touched a place in her memory, all the shattered bits of stone began to piece themselves back together. She wondered if their beloved Sir Lancelot had always been planning, strategizing, and calculating every swift movement that contributed to DarkClan's forward march into Riverclan domain. Certainly, this had not just occurred to the Clan leader on a spur of the moment. Lowering her head in silent reverence of this thought, she spoke gravely to their fearless comrade, Admin. "When will this battle commence, if at all?" Darkmask didn't want to sound desperate, but she sensed that it was a question that had provoked the interest of every individual in DarkClan. If it were left unsaid, it would be agony for them all.

track

We meet again, little friend '3'

Everything's a cowboy movie in the world of little friend CB
Absolutely! Big friend olaf here, reporting for duty! :P

Maybe Darkmask and fossil could venture out into the wilderness together when the rest of the Clan is asleep, but end up getting caught in a little bit of danger when they cross paths with a wild boar.

Too true my friend. Could it begin with them sharing a word or two over a piece of fresh kill?

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Though Darkmask's tainted mew was rather dismissive of the subject, her pale blue optics were still trained on Admin's frail silhouette. She lingered near the narrow passage for several heartbeats, vaguely intrigued as to why the ranger had taken ill to a weak mind and failing spirit.

Traack

"Yes, which is why it's truly perplexing to see you, a warrior of both venom and animosity, wither in the face of a complete fantasy. As you said, it's quite often that ghosts appear to you with your gift of the sight. Why should this be any different?" Darkmask had a lurking suspicion that Admin was withholding the truth of these wretched nightmares from her Clan. It was as if the ranger were suppressing some demonic species from their view, one that had been carefully tucked away in the far corners of her mind until this day, now free to feed on her deadliest sins.

"I haven't a clue. Would you care to enlighten us, Admin?" The impenetrable muscles rippling along the dark warrior's shoulder blades were perfectly outlined against the moon's milky light, her ebony features haloed by the embrace of its gentle rays, as though her pelt were tipped with silver stardust. What was Admin so afraid of? Perhaps she feared that if she released the evil which possessed her, it would only damage those who dwelled in DarkClan, both mind and bodily. Darkmask's steely gaze flicked from walker, to her little fiorelle. Ah, so that's how it is. Certainly Admin wouldn't want to compromise her children in anyway, for if word got out that the queen had been corrupted, it would surely tarnish her family's good name.