Lost and Found[Ghost/Kenya + OPEN!]

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn knew the moment she smelled salty air that she had lead Ismo in the wrong direction. She had spent the most of her life living right outside Clan territory, but that didn’t mean she was familiar with all of it. Plus, it was growing difficult to remain focused when she was constantly distracted by having to chase down the third member of their strange party—Star. The young tom had been with them for a while now; it was hard to remember that he was actually a Clan cat. Star was never short of enthusiasm, and would find any and every excuse to dart off and explore some “new and exciting” development in their travels. Fortunately for her, Ismo naturally had more patience with the adolescent cat. When she wasn’t busy rescuing Star, she was sidetracked by thoughts of her handsome escort. In the moon since Star’s arrival, she had seen a surprisingly paternal side of Ismo. She found herself staring at his familiar scale-marked fur. Her pelt would tingle for hours after she woke up nestled into the warm flank of her companion every morning, and when he’d— Oh, there go her thoughts again. Quinn jumped ahead of the two toms, dashing through a copse of trees that marked the end of the forest. The Snowshoe stopped short, her kittypet tags clinking in agitation. Before her lay the ocean, and in the stretch of land ahead, the sea sliced into the shore in the unmistakable shape of a feline’s claw. Every loner knew that there was one territory you always avoided. Dread crawled along her spine. “Hang on, boys,” she mewed, gesturing them to halt with a flick of her tail. “I… I think we’re lost.”

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

Star was now well above apprentice age. Even in the short time from his clan he had grown. Quinn and Ismo would have a difficult time grabbing him by the scruff now. Even with his scent long faded and his size larger, he still acted like a kit out of the nursery for the first time. Everything was so wild and new! And it was all his if he wanted it! Atleast, how he saw it.

His jaws snapped closed as he just missed a squirrel. His claws were sunk deep into the trunk of a tree as he attacked his prey. "Quinn! Ismo! Did you see? Did you? I almost got the stupid thing!" He meowed loudly. Oops. Now all the prey knew they were there. He scrambled off the tree trunk, the patches of filtered light making his ginger pelt glow like a fire. Tail sticking straight up in the air, he ran to catch up to the two older cats. These older cats felt like clanmates to him now. He spent every day with them, following, learning, and much to Quinn's dismay, disobeying. That cat just loved to kill his fun! Ismo was much more patient with Star, which he liked. He felt as though Quinn were his mother and Ismo were his mentor. Star still missed home, but this new life was going better then he could of ever imagined.

Star paused at the heels of the other cats and lifted his nose into the air. Parting his jaws he pulled a strange salty smell across his tongue. "What is THAT!" He meowed, the lost prey no longer important. Stars brown eyes widened as he stared ahead. He had to know! Star's paws hardly touch the earth as he pelted forward excitement fluffing his fur.

"Hang on boys" Stop?! Now?! His paws slowed slightly as he thought of the consequences of running off. Were they in danger? What was out there?
"I...I think we're lost" If that was all it was, then might as well explore! His paws gained speed as he burst through the forest away from the other cats. The ground below his paws changed to a light color, and he skidded to a halt spraying it everywhere. Sand? Star crunched some between his teeth to see if it was indeed sand. There wasn't much of this stuff on his territory, but he knew of it. What really shocked him was the vast amount of water before his eyes. Slowly, as if approaching an enemy, he stalked towards the source. His white paws sunk with every step making his balance off a little. Still, he had to touch and taste it! Almost there...

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] The salt in the air was so thick that Ismo could almost swear he could taste it. From the description Quinn had given him of their destination, he didn't figure they were in the right location. But he was beginning to not care where this journey took him. With the clans utter distaste for outsiders, he would likely never find a clan leader willing to accept him. Een if they did, what then? Quinn was against living amongst the clans and the thought of being apart from her was something Ismo couldn't fathom. Her constant company after two moons left him wondering what life would be like without it. Her graceful and confident movements, her smooth coat and those blue eyes that seem to capture his very soul...no, being called a Loner isn't such a bad thing after all. Wait...why did Quinn stop? "Hang on, boys." He could sense the unease in her voice. Ismo's pupils narrowed and his muscles tensed. "Quinn! Ismo!" Star's outburst nearly made Ismo leap around. As the young clan cat made his run towards the water Ismo followed in his paw prints and quicky nabbed the ginger youth by the neck before he reached his goal. Ismo placed him next to a thick bush and stood between Star and the ocean. "Now Little One, this is no time to explore. Normally I would encourage your curiousity but it would be better now to learn a few lessons. Lesson one; silence is always a great weapon. You missed your squirrel despite your silence but instead of remaining so, and trying to gain another vantage point you announced your position further and gave up pursuit. Silence also helps when you are in a territory you do not know and are unfamiliar to the dangers. That leads us to lesson two; always observe your entire surroundings before making any move out into the open for any reason. Just as you were hunting your squirrel, something else could be hunting us. So for now, let us be silent and remain the hunters." Ismo leaned down and gave Star a playful nudge with his nose. "But you were very close to catching your prey and I am proud of you for that!" Ismo padded over to Quinn, keeping his eyes roaming their surroundings. "What is wrong, my dear?"

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn, so engrossed with trying to pinpoint their location by memory, was able to block out Star’s excited chatter for the first time since they crossed paths. It wasn’t until the young, fox-colored tom bolted past, just a flash of orange and white, that Quinn snapped back into reality. Panic gripped her throat, and her fur fluffed in terror and alarm. But Ismo dashed past, reminding her yet again how fast the tom could move, despite his bulk. Her fright settled. Ismo could handle Star. Star had told them that he and his siblings had never known their father, so Quinn was grateful for the caring, strong, and paternal figure he could find in Ismo. The half-wildcat dragged his captive back away from the water. Quinn doubted her companion had ever seen an ocean, but at least he had the sense to stay away from it. Star had certainly grown in these few moons. It was hard to imagine that she could pluck him off Ismo’s back with ease back when he was on the cusp of his apprenticeship. Now, she could see under his flame-hinted fur the hardened muscle that their travels had given him, built over his naturally sturdy, Warrior-bred frame. While he hadn’t yet matched her in size, he nearly compared her in weight. While Ismo lectured their Clan-born friend, Quinn paced nervously. Her dark ears swiveled in all directions, picking up every sound she could over their discussion, and her blue eyes glinted as she tried to piece together memories bits of conversation she had with other loners. A hostile, almost Clan-like group of rogues lived in the area by the bay, but she could not recall what they were called or where they camped. They needed to get back towards the Clans—yet how could they without running into trouble, when she didn’t know where they even were? She turned back toward her boys, eyes a hard, steel blue. The Snowshoe fixed her gaze on Star, hoping the seriousness of the situation was conveyed through her expression. “I’m sorry, I’ll show you the big water some other time, Star…” They were too vulnerable here on the shore. “…but we need to leave, now, and find a place to lie low for a little while, until I can remember the way back.” She shared a long look with Ismo, one that she hoped he could translate as meaning that she would speak with him more in private.

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

"I'm not a kit!" Star scoffed as Ismo released his grip after dragging him away. Star listened to Ismo with only half his concentration as he peered around him to the vast never-ending water.

"Lesson one; silence is always a great weapon."

What was out there? I wonder if there is giant fish!

"Silence also helps when you are in a territory you do not know and are unfamiliar to the dangers."

Not even Otterkit would be able to swim that! I bet it goes on forever!

His copper eyes darting back to Ismo at the end of his lecture. Remain silent and be hunters? "I can be silent!" He meowed loudly sticking his nose in the air as if he'd already accomplished something great. Star's voice wasn't the kit like squeaking and chirping it had been, but it was not the strong voice of a warrior. Ismo and Quinn were sure to have their paws full with him, even a seasoned mentor might find their claws scraping the ground. Star had the heart, but lacked the method and patience. With a audible snap of his jaws, he closed his mouth determined to make Ismo proud. He considered the Tom his mentor in every way as he was the closest thing he had outside of clan life.

Star padded gingerly up to Quinn, and stopped himself when he saw the urgent stare of her eyes. He tilted his head trying to understand without speaking. At her promise to show him the water, he started to meow "Whe-" But cut himself off. Silence! I am the silent hunter! Star dropped into his hunting crouch, which he had mastered by now. He stalked a few fox lengths away from his companions trying to scent for prey. It was impossible here with all the wind and the salt. Giving up he stalked his way back, still satisfied he hadn't spoken yet.

Star pushed himself between the two cats, swinging his head back and forth to each of them. Why was she looking at him like that? And why does she want to leave so soon? Sure this place smelled strange, but it was amazing! There was so much of nothing out there compared to the dense trees! A great place for battle practice! His paws itched to just run out there and practice his battle moves but he knew Ismo would just drag him back again. He sighed and with his ears flattened against his head Star stared intently at the water line.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo sighed at the younger cats outburst after his lecture but was impressed at the silence that followed. Perhaps the Ginger youth listened after all. If Star would only practice patience he could grow to be a great warrior indeed. He shook his head ever so slightly making his beard seem to twitch, then brought his attention back to Quinn's stare. She knew something was wrong but wouldn't or couldn't say now, likely to avoid scaring their companion. "Where would you recommend we go? There was a small burrow at the root of an oak some distance back but that is all I can remember that would give us any good cover." Ismo did his best to keep an eye on the brush and Star and was relieved when a large ball of orange fur pushed in between Quinn and himself. What could have Quinn so upset though? All Ismo could smell was salt, earth and trees. His tuft tipped ears picked up no abnormal sounds and even noises from the few prey animals Star hadn't frightened away. Ismo cursed his lack of knowledge concerning these lands.  He leaned towards Quinn and spoke as softly as he could. "Yes, I think that burrow might be a good place to lie low and...reorient ourselves. Unless you noticed something else along the way."

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn seemed to snap out of whatever panic-induced trance she was in at the tones of her boy’s voices. She’d grown so close to the two toms that she hardly ever felt the need to switch on and off her protective masks. When she needed to appear calm and in control, she had failed in that moment. The Snowshoe she-cat was comforted by Ismo’s closeness. She passed her muzzle across Ismo’s cheek and breathed the familiar scent of his fur, feeling her worries melt away like drops of rain water falling from a leaf. Star pushed between them, dragging her attention away. “I’m sorry,” Quinn mewed. “I don’t think we’re safe here.” She nodded at Ismo’s suggestion. “That’s a good idea. I’ll explain more on the way, we just need to find a place where we’re not so exposed.” She got to her paws and gestured for them to follow, but couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more than two sets of eyes on her.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Dbg.png] Diesel padded along the shore, the salty foam of the waves brushing past his paws at an even pace, keeping the sand wet and cool. He had dragged the Fledgling Sledder out of Raider’s Run for some training. The smart-mouthed young tom had a habit of unintentionally picking fights with all of the wrong cats, and finding himself on the wrong end of their furious claws. Diesel didn’t know if Sledder was some kind of masochist or just plain stupid, but it didn’t do the Fledgling any good to be smacked around so much that he wasn’t fit for training. Not that Diesel would go easy on him, the apple green-eyed tom just preferred his comrades to be mostly whole—physically and mentally. Already, the harsh trainings had changed the Fledgling brothers Talon and Kite into something else entirely. He didn’t want to think about that. The older Raider had Sledder running through the hot sand in the middle of the beach. The heat was without a doubt painful to the sensitive pads, but quick, jerking motions of the paws would only make a cat run in place. Strong, fluid movements were needed to make headway through the sand. It was a good exercise for a sarcastic brat like Sledder. Flashes of motion ahead caught Diesel’s attention. He turned his wide head toward the source. An apprentice-sized tom with fur the color of a fox’s pelt streaked toward the water, and, close on his tail, a massive beige tom sprinted after him. Moving quickly before they could be spotted, Diesel ran up the beach toward forest cover, cuffing Sledder about the ear to get the Fledgling to follow into a thick copse of ferns. He crouched low in the shadows, eyes flashing. “Tell me, Sledder,” he whispered, barely audible, “what do you see?” The Raider wanted to see how Sledder could assess the situation before they accosted the intruders.

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

Star's jaw began to ache with the effort it took to be quiet. He was apprentice age after all, and apprentices don't make mistakes! He took his copper eyes off the big water when Quinn said they had to leave. Star shook his head furiously. How could they leave? Surly there was nothing more dangerous than clan cats, and they were so far from home! Star couldn't take it anymore, he voice burst out sounding rather whiny and more like his younger kit-voice. "But Quinn! We can take on some stray kitty-pets!" He jumped up and placed his paws on her shoulder. "Pleasssseeee" He said through clenched teeth.

"I'm a good fighter!" Star meowed rocking her shoulder with his paws. "Quinn? Quinn? Quinn? Quinn? Quinn? Quinn? Quinn? Just a few more minutes!" As he turned his pleading eyes to Ismo hoping the tom would understand the horrible desire he had to investigate, his head jerked up catching the blustery wind. His eyes couldn't see anything, and his nose only picked up salt and fish. But there was something else... He sniffed again, but couldn't make it out over everything swirling around him. Nothing. It was probably nothing... He jumped back down onto all fours. "Okay. I'll agree to it as long as we get to come back one day! Promise? Promise on Starclan??" He meowed sounding very serious indeed.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/SLDRbg.png] Sledder panted heavily with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His pelt was soaked with exertion as he paws slid on the burning sand. Water was the only thing he could truly focus on with the sun in his eyes. The sea looked so tempting but he knew it was filled with salt which he couldn't drink. Diesel had dragged him from Raider's Run to make him run through this heat. At first the running hadn't gotten him anywhere. His paws slipped and slide all over the place gettting the nasty stuff in his pelt and eyes. Soon enough he had gotten the hang of it "Stupid cat! Stupid soft cat! Why can't you fight me like a real raider? " Those had been Sledder's own words before they had started this. Sledder's mouth was to dry to yowl insults but he was still thinking them. Sledder's frame had filled out. Though he was still a thin cat, he had grown bigger and more powerful. The claws of the raiders only succeeded in making him angrier. New scars covered his flanks, but with every loss he took something new away. Slowly Sledder was starting to win. Especially against Kite. That tiny kit never really seemed to get any bigger or stronger. Out of every swipe of Sledders claws, half were aimed at Kite. That little runt will never get anywhere. Just wait.. One day no one will be around to see. And I'll kill him. One less weak link with us. I'll.. A cuff around the ear brought Sledder back to realty. He turned to follow Diesel into the brush. The sudden shade on his pelt felt amazing as his sizzled skin cooled. Sledder's paws were burnt from his struggle in the sand leaving him unable to feel anything underpaw. He crouched next to Diesel, his smart comments kept to himself as he caught his breath. "What do you see?" Sledder strained his blue eyes through the brush until he made out what Diesel was indicating to. "I see.. and hear" he meowed emphaziging the word, "A young mouse-brained ginger cat. A tom. There is a huge sandy brown tom to his left... and a pretty little she-cat to his right. I think she's a kittypet" His tail whipped back and forth in anticipation. "They look lost. and Frightened" He said noting the she-cats distress. Sledder pulled back his lips in a toothy grin.Obviously they weren't from around here.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo's skin lit on fire as Quinn rubbed against his cheek. A massive shiver ran down his fur as he breathed in deep, inhaling Quinn's sweet, soft scent; but froze solid as something very odd added itself to the mix. He took in another whiff and that scent was still there, but faint. Damn being a foreigner! Not knowing the smells of these lands were beginning to become a pain in Ismo's stubby tail. His hackles rose and his claws extended and retracted. He turned to Star as the young cat finally voiced his continued desire to explore. "This is not a time to act like a kit Little One. Although you have not been initiated as an apprentice, you are of age and must have an attitude to match. One day, maybe we can return here but for now it is not safe. We might be in serious danger and we need to leave now. No arguments, no debates. You will follow Quinn and her instructions without question. A good warrior, whether from my land or one of your clans, must know when to follow orders. Do you understand?" Ismo looked hard at the clan cat, leaving all softness and patience from his eyes. He shifted his gaze to Quinn, letting a little warmth flow into the previously cold silver. "The burrow was in that direction," Ismo tilted his head back towards a thicket of trees and brush deeper in the woods, barely visible in the distance. "You lead, keep Star close. I will follow a few fox lengths behind and keep an eye out for whatever may be out here. Something is wrong but I can't tell what...Star!" Ismo's attention flew back to his young companion. "Remember, silence is key. It means life, or if you fail...death." He wished he didn't have to be so serious with the young cat, but Ismo felt it was his duty to teach this would-be-apprentice. And in lands like these, lessons must be learned quickly, so maybe putting fear in Star would help with that; tempering his wild spirit could save his life one day.

[sil]

Diesel shot Sledder a sharp glare, the darkness of the shade made his green eyes flash. He’d had enough of the Fledgling’s attitude. Diesel wasn’t one to speak more than necessary, and he was required to do a lot of excess talking with this young tom. With a deep growl, the Raider slammed a paw down on Sledder’s muzzle to keep him from crying out, and he raked a hind claw down Sledder’s flank.

“Imbecile,” he hissed in the Fledgling’s ear, keeping his front paw clamped on the younger cat’s jaws, “you need to see more than who is simply there. The lamest mouse can look at three cats and see three cats. Look for what you can use to your advantage. Learn to gauge the limits and weaknesses of your enemies with a glance. Now pay attention.” He brought his broad head lower, closer to his ear, and began to work out their plan.

When he was satisfied that Sledder understood, Diesel got to his paws and gestured for the young tom to silently take his position. The silvery tabby moved through the undergrowth with the grace of a panther. If the Raiders were ever interested in actually learning to hunt, Diesel would excel at it, most likely due to his EastClan heritage. For now, his skills were used to hunt a different sort of prey.

He came closer to the trio of cats, stalling once he knew his scent was downwind of them. Their various scents reached him, and they all smelled like loners. When the she-cat and the Fledgling-aged tom moved ahead of the larger tom, Diesel made his move.

He slid into the clearing, and closed the distance in one, fluid leap. He crouched between the huge, beige tom and his companions, his thick fur fluffed and his teeth bared in a vicious snarl. His whole frame trembled, and, while he appeared overwhelmed with fury, his dull green eyes flitted from one cat to the next as he measured their reactions.

When he was sure all eyes were on him, he savagely spit out, “You are trespassing on my territory! And now you won’t leave without first facing the consequences!” His short tail made a jagged gesture through the air. Sledder’s signal.

----

Quinn sighed at Star's insistence. It was hard to stay mad at the little mouse-brained runt. He was so far away from home at such a young age. The Showshoe she-cat oftentimes felt like the mother he had left behind. Whoever she was, wherever she was, Quinn almost felt sorry for the queen to have to deal with such an energetic tom.

She allowed him to push gently on her shoulders and rolled her eyes at his pleading voice. When he jumped off, Quinn bent over and touched noses with the tom. "We will come back some day, I promise." Turning to Ismo, once again thankful for the lecture that seemed to at least... somewhat...settle their young friend, she nodded in agreement to his instructions.

Quinn moved to take the lead, running her tail along Star's spine to catch his attention. That was when the fourth cat burst into the clearing.

Every strand of his tabby-and-white fur vibrated with anger and hostility. He was a large, solid tom whose muscles rippled under his scar-covered pelt. Mewing in surprise, Quinn quickly thrust herself between Star and the furious newcomer.

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

"You really promise?" He meowed clearly satisfied with her answer. Before he could finish his statement, Ismo started lecturing him. Star looked down at his paws and pressed them rhythmically into the earth as Ismo scolded him. He couldn't help that he was excited! "I will be a good warrior!" He huffed lifting his chin. "You'll see! When I get my warrior name!" Star padded over to the other side of Quinn, ready to leave for once now that Ismo killed the mood, but he was still determined to show Quinn and Ismo he could be usefull. Like a warrior.

As Quinn moved forward and ran his tail along side Quinn, Star put his muzzle in the air and drew in the scents over his tongue. What? His eyes partly closed as he concentrated on the scent. It was the same one from before! "Quinn! Ismo! I sme-" He never got a chance to finish before a huge fierce tom burst out of the brush, with his pelt bristling. Star froze with fear. His copper eyes widened with panic and his own fox-colored pelt bristled in alarm as the cat spat threats. In only a heart-beat Quinn was in front of him, shielding him. Star craned his neck around to see the tom. Ismo was huge himself, but wasn't nearly as threatening looking as this cat! He watched how the stranger stared down his two companions, and separated Ismo from Quinn. Star stepped forward from behind Quinn and hissed, keeping his lips drawn back over his teeth. I'm not afraid. I'm a warrior. I'm not afraid. Star swiped a shaky claw at the tom. "Stay away from her!" He spat behind rare hostile eyes. This was his family. I am not afraid! He lifted a paw to move forward but was surprised by a second silver blur bursting from the forest. How many were there?

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/SLDRbg.png] Sledder's sharp tongue had gotten him in trouble again. Diesel's paw slammed down onto him with a force that kept him silent no matter what he did. The pain of his claws burned though him and Sledder struggled to get loose. When Diesel finally let him go, he slowly got back to his paws and gave his wound a few swift licks as the blood soaked through his short silver fur. He held back the growl in his throat as he moved into position to wait for Diesels signal. Sledder flattened himself against the ground, gritting his teeth agaisnt the stinging in his flank. Sledder stared intently forward, and bunched his mucles as Deisel confronted the strangers. He eyed them, and heeding Deisel's advice watching the cats movements for signs of weakness. The kittypet was lean, with a worn collar. Maybe she wan't a kittypet. All three seemed to hold their own. In a few heart-beats Sledder had worked out his own plan. With the signal came, he was ready. Sledder burst out of his hiding place straight for the she-cat. The young tom would be to easy, and the older cat would be far to much of a match for him. Sledder hit her with teeth and claws, grabbing her throat and knocking her from her paws. She was even smaller up close. With his jaws secured around her throat, he let his claws rake from her shoulder to her back leg, turned her fur the same blazing red as his own back leg was now. He released his grip from her throat and replaced it with his reddened claws to keep her still. Turned his head, he hissed at the ginger tom warnng him to stay back or he would receieve worse. That cat was no more then a kit! Small, defenseless. He would be an easy match, not that the she-cat was any better. "I wouldn't move if I were you" He whispered, bending his head so only she could hear. "My. What nice feathers." Sledder's jaws clamped onto two of them, snapping them easily in his jaws. The fluttered to the earth, broken. His silver tail flicked back and forth with smug pride as he gazed triumphently at the large tom and Diesel. One move from him and she'd be dead before he would reach her. His jaws parted in a wicked grin as he gave a blood-stained paw a swift lick. Looking back to the other raider, he waited for further instruction, one eye and ear to the two toms. He would not mess this up. This would be his chance to show the other raiders what he could do. That he could spill blood as efficently as them. That he was unafraid, strong. His claws pressed down tighter on her throat as he invisioned himself being a captian.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo slid to a halt as a large tom leapt into their midst snarling. He set himself as the stranger hissed threats that were all too familiar. But something was off; there was the scent of blood in the air. Then the second attacker burst forth and was pinning Quinn to the ground with his teeth against her throat. Ismo's heart leapt but he held his position waiting for another attacker and knowing even if he tried to save her, the first tom would make his move on his exposed flank. Ismo cursed how bad the situation had become. There was nothing we could do. Our numbers are too few and they had the jump on us. I must get us out of this mess or we will all likely die. His eyes flicked back to the smaller silver tom. His mouth was streaked with red, a smug smile showing his teeth, and his claws were placed carefully onto Quinn's throat. Attacking him would mean her death. Even if he could avenge Quinn and break the smug runt in half, his companion would be digging into Ismo's flanks and the advantage would still be his. His size could only help so much against an opponent obviously seasoned with many battles. But their had to be something! He dropped low, his muscles bunching and sending the scale markings along his fur rippling. His lips pulled back in frustration, showing all of his massive teeth as his one inch claws dug into the ground. Then he saw that smug smile again...and an idea hit him. "We are no concern of your's Warrior." He addressed the obvious elder of the two attackers; keeping his stance firm and balanced. "We simply were turned around and were leaving. We noticed no markers and thus if we are indeed in your territory then it was little fault of ours. As such, you had better tell that scratching post on top of my friend that he should go home before I snap his spine in two for harming her." Ismo shifted his head so his silver eyes met those of his young foe. The only emotion he let filter into them was his controlled rage. He slid an arrogant smile of his own across his glistening fangs. He made his voice level, with a tinge of humour. "Know this you young fool, if she comes to anymore harm, I will indeed do just as I promise. It will happen here or, should I manage to escape this, I will hunt you until you make a mistake. I know your scent now, and after you are limp at my paws I'll make a nice little meal out of you and leave your carcass for the birds. Your master here cannot save you from me. His strike will come long after mine and you stand no chance against me." Ismo returned his attention to the tensed ball of muscle that was the elder tom. His eyes emptied and his smile faded into its former snarl. "Unless you wish to end the life of your arrogant puppet there, and risk yours in the bargain, let us go and pretend we never met. Otherwise your options are only slightly more varied than my own. If you move to take me then it will be a bloody brawl indeed and expect neither of us will fare well after if either survives. A move against this ginger kit would leave you open, as would one towards my partner and then I would have you. If you die here, so will your ward. And my move against him will end him and lead to a blood bath between you and I still. You are a fighter, that is plain to see. But there is no clean ending here for anyone if a fight truly starts. The choice is yours; we all die, or we all forget this ever happened."

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Dbg.png] When Sledder leapt out of the darkness on cue, Diesel relaxed his tensed muscles and dropped his act. He met Ismo’s furious silver eyes with indifference. Maybe, if Ismo had threatened a lesser Raider, they would have been intimidated into retreating. But Diesel was utterly apathetic. He would have laughed at Ismo’s ignorance, calling him a “Warrior” and assuming he cared what happened to Sledder. Little deterred Diesel from his work, even at the risk of his life. He commended the loner for trying to appear calm, but Diesel knew better. Diesel was in control of this situation. The dullest kit could see the feelings that the two older loners had for one another. And while he doubted these beige- and brown-hued adults could have sired the little flame-colored tom, the young cat was obviously as important to Ismo as any kin. That was Ismo’s mistake. These were the weaknesses that Diesel wanted Sledder to see. Speaking of which, the swirl-marked Raider spared a glance in the Fledgling’s direction. He groaned inwardly at Sledder’s handiwork, and sent him a glare that clearly said to take it easy. Of course, other prisoners had survived worse (Brodie came to mind), however he hopped the she-cat was still able to walk; they absolutely could not let her die. It was in Diesel’s experience that cats with nothing to lose made remarkably dangerous enemies. “A move against this ginger kit would leave you open, as would one towards my partner and then I would have you… But there is no clean ending here for anyone if a fight truly starts. The choice is yours; we all die, or we all forget this ever happened.” Diesel turned slowly back to his larger adversary, the greens of his eyes sharping, becoming icy sheets of malevolence. Grinning, his teeth flashed in the shape of unsheathed cat’s claw that was stretched the width of his shortened muzzle. He backpedaled carefully toward where Quinn, Sledder, and Star were huddled. “No, you see, no one has to die. That decision is entirely up to you,” Diesel meowed. His claws extended and he reached out the remaining tail-length towards the little tom. Snatching Star up was easy enough, despite his squirming. Diesel dragged Star underneath his chest but had to use both front paws to keep the fighting tom subdued. “Stay still,” he warned gruffly, pressing his claws into the thick fur of Star’s scruff. Diesel looked back up at Ismo. “This is how it’s going to work. You’re going to stay exactly were you are. If I see so much as a whisker twitch in our direction, the she-cat will die.” He flicked an ear in Sledder’s direction. “Please don’t give my energetic, claw-happy friend an excuse to spill more blood. He doesn’t require much motivation to finish the job. She’ll be returned to you if all of you accede completely.” Another wicked grin spilt his jaws. “A Raider’s promise.” His rules set, careful to never remove his gaze away from Ismo, Diesel bent down, attempting to sink his teeth in Star’s scruff. While Star was certainly no kit, Diesel’s shoulder and neck muscles were strong enough to drag him until they had distanced themselves from Ismo.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn smelt blood a heartbeat before Sledder attacked. Swinging around, her tags clanking with a harsh metallic twang, a rush of silver tabby fur exploded in her face. Pain seared through her as the Fledgling’s battle-hardened claws sank into her neck and a hiss died in her throat when her muzzle was thrust into the mixture of soil and sand. Dust particles clouded around them, filling her open mouth and stinging her eyes. Before she could even put up a struggle, Sledder followed up his pounce with vicious swipes of his claws, tearing fur and flesh. Instinctively, she tried to cry out, but instead inhaled more of the grit. Quinn coughed miserably instead, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. She imagined she were somewhere else—back in the forest, sleeping, tucked into the warmth of Ismo’s comforting flank with Star slumbering against her other side—until the Fledgling’s onslaught ended. Her injuries burned with such ferocity that she didn’t dare move; she barely heard Sledder’s warning. Heart sinking, Quinn watched two of her precious feathers—the cardinal and a blue jay’s—float in broken spirals to the ground. Seeing the symbols of her lost friends being destroyed in front of her hurt her more than any physical wound. Ismo and Diesel began to converse, but it was hard to concentrate. She focused on Star’s fiery pelt and brown eyes. “I’m alright,” she mewed hoarsely, as quietly as she could, “just stay calm for me, okay?” She wished desperately that she could see Ismo, but her neck was held immobile, and she could only catch glimpses of his scale-marked fur when she strained her peripherals. When Diesel grabbed Star, Quinn instinctively bucked, blood streaming down her pelt, and snarled out, “No!” The weight of the Fledgling atop her back and the extent of her injuries sent her crashing right back down to the ground, her wounds burning and straining against the tender flesh. The Showshoe she-cat breathed heavily through her nose, watching Star with terror gripping her heart. She needed to calm down. Stay objective. Find a way out, a way to help Star or to make an opening for Ismo. She just…needed to wait. She prayed that Ismo would not do anything rash.

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

Star stared horrified as Sledder’s needle sharp claws raked down his companion’s side, his copper eyes were wide, reflecting red. Quinn was strong, and brave. She stood tall and always knew what to do. She was pressed into the ground, her blood mixing with the sand under their paws. The silver cats unsheathed claws were pressed into her throat. “Quinn?” he squeaked, his body shaking. Star’s ears noticeably trembled as he tried to get closer to her, only to be stopped by a menacing glare from her murderous capture. “Leave Quinn alone!” He meowed, his voice cracking under his distress.

Sledder’s silver paw whipped around and caught Star on his muzzle. His face stung and Star quickly stepped back shaking droplets of blood from his now reddened nose. Star looked up again to see another set of claws coming towards him. He hissed and unsheathed his own claws taking a quick swipe, but Diesels were faster. His claws dragged Star underneath him where he felt himself being pressed into the ground just as Quinn was. He heard Quinn yowl, and tried to blink the sand from his eyes to find her, or Ismo. He could see Ismo, who looked calm, but furious all at the same time. Twisting his head through the sand, he got a glance at Quinn to. Star panicked, twisting and clawing whatever he could get a hold of to free himself. Nothing helped as he found himself pressed down harder almost unable to move. The feeling of gritty sand filled his mouth as he tried to bite at the raiders paws.

“Stay still” He heard the tom’s voice above him order. He struggled to gain some footing to push away but lacked the strength and skill that Diesel possessed. Sharp teeth sank into his scruff and he cried out as he was dragged back away from the rest of the group. Struggling again now that he was able to see where he was going, Stars ginger pelt bristled out making him look twice his size. “Quinn! Ismo!” He yowled twisting back and forth the tom’s jaws. Nothing he did would seem to break his hold, but he could tell it was a strain for him to be dragged. Fear scent started to roll off his pelt when he realized he probably wouldn’t get out of this. Quinn and Ismo wouldn’t be there to save him this time. Star struggled again to free himself, feeling the jaws of Diesel grip his scruff tighter.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/SLDRbg.png] Sledder waited with unusual patience for Diesel to send him more instructions. Diesels head spun around and looked from the captive she-cat to him, which was followed by an infamous glare Sledder had known well from other raiders. He sighed and eased some pressure off her throat, so at least she wouldn’t suffocate. “Oh she’s fine..” He grumbled under his breath. He would of loved for her to be his first kill, but orders were orders. Not that she would make it as a raider anyways. The ginger tom might. He clearly had no real training, but being a fledgling would quickly replace any softness he had. Plus another cat for Sledder to practice with. The cats pelt was unmarked as well. That would also quickly change for any kit who became a fledgling. No cat was a cat without scars anyways. Sledder turned his silver head and gave his should a quick lick where he could see the pale pink lines of his own scar parting his silver tabby pelt. Out of the corner of his eye, Sledder spotted the younger ginger tom. His small paws were shuffling towards them. With a swift glance to the she-cat under his claws, Sledder grinned and whipped around and attempted to snatch Star to. He only just made contact with the cat’s muzzle, but that sent him backward anyways. Stupid cat. When I was his age, I wouldn’t of stopped at a scratch! Sledder turned just in time to see Diesel reach for the tom and pin him under his own white paws. The she-cat below him cried and struggled out when she saw this, and Sledder was almost relieved that she wasn’t dead yet. Diesel would have his tail if she was. Sledder pressed his full weight back onto the she-cat causing her to collapse back into the sand. She would not escape him, or she would be sorry. “Silence!” He hissed. Sledder swiped his claws along her cheek to keep her from yowling out again. He knew Diesel would be unhappy about it, but when was that tom ever happy? She wasn’t bleeding that much anyways. A Raider’s promise he heard Diesel say while dragging back the other cat. What good has that ever done him? If Quinn died, it would be that beige tom’s own fault. He thought eyeing the large cat. He should of kept a closer eye on her.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo wished he had remained in his home forests. There the trees were tall, leaf-bare was long, the scents were familiar and no one else paid for his mistakes. But instead, he was off on this foolish quest and Quinn had been wounded every time they came across another cat because he wasn't detecting threats fast enough. His failures have put her life, and young Star's, at risk. Unacceptable. he thought. He had to regain control. Ismo barely restrained a hiss as he watched the younger assailant swipe at Star and bring his claws against Quinn's cheek. Only the many moons of training that he had gained under his father kept him from making a fatal mistake. He had to fight back the rage and keep calm. Anger fogs the mind and is only helpful if a fight actually occurs. He had to stay focused. But the larger tom crept towards Star, denying Ismo any chance at a strike, and snatched his young friend. Ismo's heart leaped into his throat. He had to do something, he had to protect his friends, he couldn't just stand for losing someone he loved...but what could he do? “This is how it’s going to work. You’re going to stay exactly were you are. If I see so much as a whisker twitch in our direction, the she-cat will die... She’ll be returned to you if all of you accede completely. A Raider's promise." Ismo's lips curled into a snarl. What is a Raider? Never mind, that isn't important. This tom's promises mean nothing. But I am going to have to make a choice; Quinn or Star... As the lead tom continued to move farther away it seemed Ismo's choice was being made for him. But until the small tom was left alone here, there was little he could do. Ismo shifted in his frustration, feeling the loose sand beneath his wide paws. Then a thought occured to him, but he had to be quick. He met Star's fear filled eyes. "No matter what happens my little friend, be brave and don't give up hope. There is strength in you, a Warrior's strength, I can see it." And just as he finished, Ismo scooped sand into his paw and flung it in a wide arc at both his foe's faces. He followed directly behind the debris and knocked the small tom off of Quinn, using his large maw to grip his neck and pin him. He placed a paw on the young cat's front shoulder and then face, sinking his claws into fur and flesh. First he pulled his paw down Quinn's assailant's side, just as had been done to her, feeling the tips of his long claws scrape against a rib as the smaller cat tried to breath. Then Ismo's other paw raked down his face. Times up Ismo thought. So he used his rage and adrenaline fueled strength to lift his target and fling him as far as he could towards the larger tom. He followed with a strike at the final foe's flank, hoping against the odds that he could save both of his dear friends.