All by myself. [open]

[||.Hawktail.||]

It was the dead of night, and the silver moon rose high above the forest, watching it like a hawk. Everything was quiet, and encased in a clump of ferns was a large black tom. He stood there, his eyes gazing out at oblivion. Claws raked at the soft earth, leaving claw-marks, nature's scars. The cat was alone, glancing around to make sure no cat had followed him. But this was not just any cat, it was Hawktail, deputy of OneClan. Hawktail's tail lashed around in the soft ferns, making small rustling sounds. Suddenly the tom felt very alone on the cold, dark slopes. It was as though he was the only cat in the entire forest. Frost littered the ground like tiny blades, giving the grass a silver glow. The only blemishes on the slopes were paw prints that had flattened the earth. For a second it seemed a though StarClan had graced Hawktail, but he realized that was impossible. There was no StarClan, not anymore. Hawktail let out a painful yowl and kicked at the glittery grass.
StarClan? Are you there? The black tom's voice rang out in the silence.
But StarClan didn't answer. They weren't there.

The tom gazed down at the forest from his perch in a large tree. It seemed so innocent, so wonderful that Hawktail almost felt happy. Almost. The reality was that it was not innocent, and darkness seemed to be rising. The forest had a fate, and it was so close Hawktail could almost taste it. The air smelled of a disaster waiting to happen. That disaster didn't seem all that far away. Hawktail didn't want the forest to fall into darkness, making each cat a murderous demon, but StarClan...No. StarClan didn't have a thing to do with this. StarClan was gone. They left. They gave up on every single mouse-brained cat that called themselves a warrior, and the feeling was horrible. Everything Hawktail had ever been taught was a bunch of stupid nonsense, and it made him angry. Why, oh why had he ever believed that a bunch of dead cats in the sky could really make all he troubles just fly away. He had been lied to, and he didn't like it one bit. He crawled down the tree and back into the ferns.

The soft ferns rustled as he emerged, tail lashing, eyes narrowed. He stood on the slope, alone at staring up at Silverpelt, cursing it for all it's worth. The ferns shook as a plump vole emerged. Hawktail just gazed at it, yowling, You haven't got problems, stupid vole! He hissed, and the vole scurried off to eat some berries. Hawktail thought about all the slumbering cats in the forest, who didn't realize that Hawktail was despairing in the dark, all by himself. He had thought about going back to camp to get some sleep, but he would wake the whole Clan. He would just have to wait until the sun emerged from oblivion and warmed his cold, black fur. An owl hooted as it flew from it's perch in a dying tree. It dived down, snatching up a mouse and disappearing into the forest. Hawktail suddenly yawned, gazing toward the horizon. There was something that he was looking at, but from looking you wouldn't realize what it was. Hawktail smirked as he licked his paw then turned his attention back to the horizon. There was a small light that was growing larger and larger. It was the sun. The sun was rising, and dawn had come.

[Exalok]

She'd never been afraid to not obey the rules.
Anyway, there weren't any. Not for her. She was a Snakehead, after all.
A sleek brown body darted from behind a huge stone, standing in the open for only a moment before dashing up a lonely tree. In those few seconds of perfect stillness, pale green eyes glinted red in the rising light of the sun, and a sly smirk crept across the she-cat's orange-streaked maw. She was ready to do something that wasn't allowed to everycat. It probably wasn't even allowed to her. But she didn't care much, really - only the power of being able to do it, of being the strongest, mattered now. She was setting aside her quest for vengeance upon the skies just this moment, instead concentrating on having a bit of fun. After all, any leader, however strong they were, were allowed some free time.
Or, at least, she considered it as such. Who cared if the Tribe needed her now? The only way some other cat could success her would be if they defeated her in battle, and that was something no cat had achieved for now - and, if her will was strong enough, until the end of her life.
She was on the territory rumored to belong to the rogues who had grouped together moons ago, intent on bringing the old ways back. Or the stories told so. It didn't have to be true. Anyway, she couldn't remember all of the tales her mother had told her. This was probably one of those fantasized dreams that the Tribe mothers created to make their kits play in imaginary battles. The Tribes were so settled, their places so deeply set - how could life have been any different before? Anyway, the 'leaders' of old were stupid cats. Only the strongest and smartest could rule over the rest. Loyalty, pride - pha. Weak feelings. All she cared for was the power, and she wasn't the most egoistic cat around.
Silent earth-hued paws stepped lightly on the ground of Slopesides, nary a pebble scattered under her gentle touch. She softly padded to another rock, having streaked down the single tree's burly trunk, and leaped atop of it, gazing out upon the dawn as the sun started rising above the line of the horizon. Such beautiful colors. Blood-like and blazing. A perfect picture of her revenge. The glint of confidence shone obviously inside her red-tinged irises, and she leaped down again, muscled form rippling like a thick, black-striped stream. She raced across the ground, sending dust flying in her wake, and latched onto another tree's trunk, claws sinking into its bark. Her quick green eyes scanned the terrain from her elevated point of view, and something immediately caught her interest - a black pinpoint not far away, also looking at the rising sphere of gold. A cat. Her curiosity would be satisfied, it seemed, as well as her need for a bit of excitement.
Silver-tinged limbs detached from the tree, and she twisted in mid-air to land back on her feet, agile body absorbing the blow from the fall. Again she sped off, like a dusty lightning streak, across the grassy ground, slinking low to the earth. Though she enjoyed sneaking up to stranger cats and attacking them, she always took the precaution of staying unseen. After all, though she knew that it was very unprobable - another egoistic thought - she just might find a match for her someday.
Slim frame slipped through the stones and thickening trees, creeping underneath the broad leaves of a fern to appear on the other side, much nearer to the cat than before. She could see him clearly now, even though his back was facing her. Stockily built, with many scars, and his black coat was smooth and unruffled. The thought 'handsome' hardly even touched her mind. Her heart had already been given to a Swamper tom - she would never give it again. It had disappeared along with her love's life, spread across the Thunderpath.
A soft, insistent hiss escaped her maw, narrowed pale green eyes and the smirk on her face underlining the fact that she was completely in control of the situation. She'd play with the cat first. Then she'd either go off and exasperate some other poor soul or finish him off. Might as well have some good fun for once.

[||.Hawktail.||]

The shards of frost that littered the ground melted in the bright sun. The last stars in Silverpelt vanished into a lavender sky. Hawktail's rough, pink tongue rasped over his sleek fur. In no way did Hawktail's sadness and anger disappear. They had only begun. His claws raked the soft earth, and his midnight hued auds pricked as the song bird's sweet melody fill the air, promising a true newleaf day. There air was cold and crisp, filling Hawktail's lungs as he took in a deep breath. The dark tom's tail curled around his large paws as he exhaled, forcing the air from his lungs. It was a nice morning so far.
Hawktail's sleek bodice was about to move back to camp, when his dark auds pricked once more hearing a twig snap loudly, but he thought it was a mere mouse than had come out of it's den to feast on whatever it could find. His eyes moved to the ground, watching his apws silently. He was blind inhis left eye, which was pale blue, while the other was moss green.

A loud hiss reached his auds and he whipped around, snarling and caterwauling, only to find Exalok in front of him.
Oh! Exalok! He bowed to the leader
Maybe she could give me the answer I've been looking for. He thought, sighing and glacing up at the lavender-hued sky.
It was not that he really wanted to be chatting with a tribe leader, but he needed an answer badly. Plus, who was more wise than a leader?
Exalok, I need advice...If you are willing to listen.
But perhaps she would would not have the answer. She was a tribe cat after all, and they didn't know a thing about warrior code or StarClan. Mangy old Tribe cats.
Hawktail would rather have all the tribe cats driven from the forest, but this was his hour of need, and he needed help.

Hawktail's cold eyes stared at the hostile cat. Who gave her the right to come onto OneClan territory and give him a hard time.
Bare with her, Hawktail. If she doesn't stop, turn tail and head for the camp and send a patrol to beat the life out of her.
There was tension in the air, Hawktail could sense it. It wasn't a good feeling, but Hawktail was older than this leader by quite a bit, and stronger. Hawktail didn't earn his scars by sitting in his den all day. He earned then by fighting and being a true warrior. He had a flash back to that wonderful day when he heard his leader say "Hawktail is deputy". It was one of the fondest memories he had, one of the only good ones, at least.
Hawktail gazed at the beautiful leader. He had a mild crush on the she-cat, but he knew it would never work. She wasn't in OneClan, for starters. And she must have given her heart to a tom already. She could have any tom she wanted.

[Exalok]

As soon as the sound had escaped her maw, the ebon tom had whirled around, snarling right back. Ooo. Interesting. She just might get more fun out of this feisty cat than most of the loners she usually happened across. Finally. A feline worthy of proper attention. He might even fight back for once.
But when he set eyes on her, he bowed and greeted her, using her name. What the fark? Her thoughts were obviously expressed in the confused mumble she created, one fine eyebrow arching high on her forehead. How the frik did this tom, rogue or loner, know her name? Usually, only the Tribe that the Snakehead belonged to knew what to call their leader. The other Tribes didn't bother calling cats from an opposing group by their names. Insults suited them fine when it came to that. And she'd been looking forward to answering a few of his own, since he'd looked like he would be a challenge, unlike the other softies she usually met. Why did fate always have to send crap in her path? She'd never get stronger if all she could fight would be idiots.
The tom spoke again, tainting the still air with his breath. The Swamper Snakehead simply gazed at him, a dull, disinterested glint in her pale green orbs. In the end, he was hardly worth wasting her breath. Some stupid rogue asking for advice? She'd have seen everything.
Or perhaps... perhaps he wasn't a rogue. Perhaps he had come from that rumored group of cats. OneClan. The StarClan bringers. But wasn't StarClan only a myth? A dumb story to make kits wonder? And she was hardly willing to listen, but there wasn't much else to do. It would probably take a long time until she came across another cat, and she'd get bored of it all before then.
He had cold eyes, though. Mebbe he would fight if she spiked him up enough. But for now, she supposed, best to settle for diplomatic matters.
"Fine," she mewed, still standing, her scornful gaze boring into the black tom's head as she smirked again. It just might turn out fun in the end.
She settled down on the dry, deprived ground, rump set solidly against a flat rock, and her black-ringed tail curled around her footpaws as she sat. Her massive jaws were set into an amused half-grin, partly closed eyes glaring disdainfully at the cat who had bothered trying to get her to help. Oh, yeh, she'd have some fun. She always did. Never missed out on a single moment of it.
"Fine, I'll give advice."
Her tufted ears were flicking about, picking out minute sounds from the background of flatland noise. The exasperating chirp of a cricket somewhere nearby, the twittering of a lonely songbird in one of the trees scattered across the land, the harsh caw of a crow far in her own bit of territory - the rustle of prey in the ferns just behind.
Quick as a flash, the muscled she-cat twisted around and leaped, landing deep in the ferns. A high-pitched squeak rose from the sudden quivering of the tall, broad-leafed plants, and the sharp snap of bones crushed between powerful jaws cracked through the air. Exalok slipped back out of the ferns, unknowingly holding the vole that the tom with bicolored eyes had seen before. A thin smile of pleasure was pasted on her maw as she dropped her kill and dug in, ripping the little thing to shreds as she ate. Her ears were still pricked, though, showing that she was listening, even if her attention was concentrated on something else and she didn't really care about the cat's problems.