;x; Sea of Chalupas ;x; {Rocketto/Rockmask}

[Blair ;;]

Cyanide's bipolar attitude was back in the middle, and would easily change in a few moments, he knew. He was watching the other cat hunt. He didn't like just watching another cat hunt. No, he wanted to catch something himself. But there was enough prey for him to just sit here for a moment and daydream, yes?

The thought drifted back to him of his first hunting expidition. He was with his mentor and another apprentice, Firepaw. It was an odd name for the orange colored apprentice, but he didn't care. As long as the kit's mother liked it, it was none of his business. She had named him it, anyways. So of course she had to like the.. odd name that was given to the young apprentice. He would be a warrior soon. The apprentice was smaller than him, but about five moons older. He was a smart character, but very annoying. He didn't know how the mentor could take him.

It was his first hunting trip out. And his second time out of camp. He was still six moons old, and he was just being made a apprentice. He had never caught even one peice of prey, never tasted bird, either. He preferred mouse: mainly because it was one of the only prey he ate. Oh, and vole. But that wasn't the point. He wasn't really listening to his mentor, more listening when he explained how to stalk a bird. And, without warning, one perched on a limb just above them.

Cyanide didn't care what the mentor in front of him said as he moved into a hunting crouch, climbing the tree with stealth. At least, back then he thought it was stealth. It was a rather odd catch; he wasn't moving his sides nor his paws correctly. But, he moved closer and closer to the bird and, when he was about two feet away, pounced. The bird flew, but he caught it in mid-flight, pulling it to the ground and landing on his back. It stung for a moment, but he was fine, quickly ending the young sparrow's life with a touch of his claws to its neck.

"I could'a done that!" snarled Firepaw, glaring at Cyanide's mentor. "Why didn't you stop him?" It was as if it was the mentor's fault that he had caught prey and not given the older apprentice, almost a warrior, the chance to show off infront of this younger one. But the mentor stayed quiet, and Cyanide jumped to his paws, cleaning off his pelt and setting the bird down beside him. His eyes were narrowed at the apprentice, and his bipolar attitude was easily taking a turn for the worst. But he had better self control back then, when his mother was alive. He gritted his teeth and bared them into a snarl.

"It doesn't matter if you could have done it, I did.It doesn't matter how one catches it; what matters is that the clan doesn't starve." His voice was on edge, but it seemed fine probably to Firepaw, the insolent apprentice. At that moment, Firepaw had been at a loss for words, still glaring at the apprentice. The mentor of Cyanide was now purring with happiness, all ignoring Firepaw.

"I found that a very nice catch for a young apprentice, Cyanide. But you need to perfect your crouch." He then began to show Cyanide how to catch the bird, but he obviously wasn't listening at this point, only glaring at Firepaw.

Oh, how cruel it was not to tackle that Firepaw and teach him a lesson on how to not be so rude. But Firepaw had died moons later, when Cyanide was a warrior. Served him right, he guessed. he thought about how warriors died. Cats died. He looked down at the prey, a turkey. And silently, he wondered.. Did it have a family that now missed it? Had it had a life before he had ended it? Was it a nice turkey, with a great personality, or a mean turkey, rude to all the other ones and threatening to kill them? Did it have children?

He wondered if animals other than cats did have feelings. Well of course they did. But did they all have families. He looked down at the turkey. Male, because of how it looked and how big it was. It looked like it had once had a mate, but she was probably dead now. He was big enough to be living on his own, so he guessed that his family, if he had one, had all died or he had left them. Had he once lived as a turkey with so much family around it, but they were all killed off by warriors? He felt a pang of sympathy. He had killed so many innocent creatures, and just so his clan could eat. He felt bad about it. But there was nothing he could do now.

Cyanide silently thanked all the prey that he had killed, all the prey that the other warriors have killed, for their hides. For what they had given the clans. Without them, all of the clans would be dead. He knew this, that the warriors would be gone, as would the kits and everyone else. Even the other clans. He smiled at the thought as he stood, scanning everywhere he was. There was a vole behind him, he knew. He could scent it.

Cyanide moved into a crouched position and stealthily -- it really was stealth now -- moved towards the vole, his eyes peeled for wherever it was. He saw it's brown pelt, nibbling a nut. It was a female, and it was skinny as a bone. It wouldn't be very good prey, but oh well. At least it was something. He stalked closer and, when he was a good half a foot away, broke into a jump and onto the vole's back, killing it with a bite to the neck.

Oh, one of his favorite things to eat: vole. He would eat this one when he got back to camp. He hadn't eaten all day anyways; it would be a good thing to do since he had caught the rest of the prey.

[1032. Woot.]

[Clove]

Splashtide wasn't an easy apprentice. He regrets acting the way he did. He hopes he isn't mean. He knows he's hard on cats sometimes, but he just wants his clan to be the best they can be. He wants to be honorable and worthy of praise. If he's not a strong cat, younger cats won't have anyone to look up to, really. He pads across the dead leaves. They crunch under his paws. He digs his claws into the trunk of a tree. He pushes himself up with his back paws. He's climbed the tree for no particular reason.

He scans the area they're in sharply from the branch. He reminisces on when one day the clan was busy with activity because of a badger sighting. He's never seen a badger to this day. Apparently, they're big, ugly, and smelly. He doesn't really want to meet one. He's also heard they're hard to fight. He doubts any would be here since he's been told they're only found above the ravine. Half of him wants to fight one someday, with help of course. Even he would admit some things can't be done alone. He lays on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment.

Mousewhisper scuffed her paws against the ground. She was staring at her paws with a pained look in her eyes. She seemed to know her apprentice's hatred for her. Splashpaw was glaring so hard it might have caught her fur on fire. His tail was lashing. The leader had called a meeting. It appeared that she had given in to the silver apprentice's request. He hardly listened to the ceremony.

He nearly jumped out of his fur when the leader announced that she would be his new mentor. He certainly couldn't have an attitude around the leader. That would make him a bad cat, wouldn't it? As the ceremony finished he scurried after her.

"Why did you make me your apprentice?!" He asked in horror. She turned and smiled gently. It made him feel warm inside. No cat had ever smiled at him before.

"Because I think you have potential, young one," She meowed.

"Some cats might think you're mouse-brained," He countered, staring at his paws with embarrassment.

"I just gave you the wrong mentor. You need a wiser, more experienced cat, and I think I can handle you," She purred. He never felt so warm inside before. She was right. He grinned.

-Moons Later-

Splashpaw pranced behind his mentor, the leader. He is around 11 moons and expecting some kind of assessment soon. The pair of cats are out in the ravine forest.

"When I was four moons I saw a creature in the fresh-kill pile that was called a rabbit. Will I ever get to catch one?" He asked suddenly

"Maybe someday, but it's not likely. Rabbits are very rare, especially in leaf-bare. He sighed as he continued trekking through the snow.

"Well, foxdung."

"However," She added, which caused his ears to perk up with extreme interest,"I can teach you about hunting them, just in case." He had to keep himself from bouncing up and down with happiness. He was a mature cat now that's nearly a warrior, if all goes well.

"That would be great!" He purred.

After she taught him everything about rabbits, he thought he'd be tired. In contrast, he was eager to hunt. He hoped he would come across a rabbit to impress his mentor. He wanted to do something major before becoming a warrior to impress the leader and the clan.

They hunted for a while, but Splashpaw had no luck in finding any rabbits. He was kind of depressed. She told him he has plenty of moons ahead and that he should be excited that he could possibly be a warrior soon. Having his mentor who also happens to be leader mention that made him very excited indeed. Suddenly, she stopped and started coughing. He was at her side with worry.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing to worry about, I just have a little cough," She meowed, smiling. Her smile looked weak however. For the first time Splashpaw noticed how her fur seemed less groomed and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. He tilted his head to her ear and dropped his voice to a whisper, even though no one was around.

"Are you low on lives?" His tail tip twitched, afraid of her answer. He knew most leaders only share their number of lives with the deputy and medicine cat, which the fact means the most too. Being her apprentice, he felt he had to the right to know as well or at least have a vague idea.

She simply nodded and flicked her tail, telling him to continue moving. There was a growl. Both cats stopped. The leader stood in front of her apprentice. A large red creature loomed over them. Splashpaw recognized it as a fox from the descriptions he'd been given. Although he had only smelled stale sense before, the stench is unmistakeable.

Right when his mentor let out a fierce hiss, the fox lunged. It clearly wasn't daunted. Scared out of his mind, he turned tail and made a mad dash for camp. He realized half way that the leader hadn't followed him. He knew she was weak, yet he just ran. He probably wouldn't have stood a chance against the menacing beast anyway.

Later in the night, clanmates dragged in their leader's dead body. He didn't bother wondering if the deputy would get her nine lives yet. He huddled in the apprentice's den, hiding from the clan's vicious glares. He had said nothing to anybody. He hadn't bothered to get a hunting patrol. He had just hid in his den with no explanation.

He stared up at the stars outside. "I will avenge your death, Maplestar," He spoke to himself and to their ancestors. He wouldn't let her down, after his horrible betrayal.

His ears perk up. He goes into a crouching position. The bushes are rustling. Could it be a fox? He tenses. He remembers his training. He opens his jaws and scents. Not fox. Then what is it? He's never smelled this before. Maybe it's a rabbit. He only saw one on the fresh kill pile when he was very young. They don't come around often. He's never caught one, obviously. His mentor taught him how to, just in case. He slides down the tree quietly. He waits. Without warning, a brown bundle comes hurtling from the bush. He stares in amazement at its movement. He doesn't lose focus though. It isn't expecting him. Having the element of surprise, he pounces.

As he digs his claws into the rabbit's back, the creature kicks its hind legs. It doesn't make noise like mice and snakes. The prey's eyes are wide with panic. He's so fascinated by seeing a rabbit alive that he almost forgets he has to end its misery. Horrified with himself, he buries his teeth into the back of the neck. He likes the taste of its warm blood. He pulls away as it goes limp. He feels kind of bad to kill such a vibrant creature. Then he remembers that it is just another piece of prey to feed the clan. He looks around for a good place to bury his blood soaked morsel. He strains to remember if rabbits are buried or if they're supposed to be brought right to camp. His mind pulls a blank, so he digs up the ground and protects the enticing smell of the flesh from foxes. He finds himself immensely relieved it wasn't one. That would have been terrible.

[Blair ;;]

Cyanide began to look out to the ravine in the forest. Rockmask seemed to be zoning out, so there was no reason to stay with this idiocy of a warrior. His claws would probably unsheathe, and he might take a life. That was something his inner mind kept him from doing most of the time. But who knows? He could lose control any day. Any time, any moment. It didn't matter. He looked back as the warrior took the life of a rabbit. Hadn't they caught enough today, than to just kill an innocent rabbit? They could have killed it when they actually needed it. A soft growl rumbled through his throat.

"Why are you taking the life of an innocent prey peice? Sure, we need prey. But how many pieces have we both caught in this prey trip alone?" Cyanide said flatly, staring deeply into the other warrior's eyes. There was no reason for him to be killing another when he had given them so much prey. The bipolar part of himself was keeping him from clawing this cat's throat out. Seeing blood splatter onto the leaves, in the heat of the cloudy day that was among them. His claws absentmindedly sheathed and unsheathed without a thought in his mind. Splashtide's blood into the quiet ravine, flowing through the water and into another clan's territory, telling them to not mess with his own clan.. He wanted a purr to rumble through his throat.

Cyanide pushed the thoughts away. What kind of self control did he even have? He must, to be thinking such things about this warrior and not doing them, have quite a bit. Not very much, but enough to keep him from killing him. Cyanide doesn't remember killing any warrior. He had wanted to before, yes, but not actually have done it. He doesn't like killing warriors, no matter how sadistic he looked. He wasn't that insane. He was no warrior of CardinalClan, having only wanting to kill some cat.

Cyanide was running through the territory, without a care in the world. He was an apprentice, and his mother was still alive. He was going to find prey for her, and he knew that he would find some in the wealth of a great spring. His claws unsheathed as he ran, slowing down to check for scents. His mouth silently parted. He didn't smell anything, except a small scent of another warrior. It didn't smell like himself; it smelled of blood and bird. The scent wasn't very familiar to him, but he knew the scent. It was the scent of a CardinalClan warrior. His teeth bared. A warrior, trespassing in his territory?

Cyanide began to run closer until he could smell it. It was a female warrior of CardinalClan, stalking a bird. And this was his territory, of IronClan! Why would they be in his territory? To trespass? To steal prey? And who knows how much prey he had already stolen? His claws unsheathed, his eyes burning with severe hatred as the warrior sprung at the bird. But Cyanide was faster. He sprung without warning and boiled over the black colored CardinalClan she-cat. She yowled, staring back at him.

Cyanide clawed at the bottom of the warrior's stomach. It yelped, jumping away, then clawing harshly at his own face, biting into his neck for a quick death bite. That was the only thing that a CardinalClan cat strived for: death. But Cyanide wasn't going to die. He was strong. He bit into the back of the black warrior's neck, his fur flying, kicking at his backbone with his back legs, throwing him against a tree. "Give up, you disloyal peice of fox-dung!" Cyanide hissed, continuing to bite at his neck. The warrior was strong, though. It kicked him against a tree, causing him to be dazed for a moment.

In the end, Cyanide didn't end up killing the warrior, but injuring him greatly. Who knows what kind of prey he would have brought back for his bloodthirsty clan. He never knew who that warrior was, but it seemed that Cyanide could have been the end of that warrior.

[/i]

[Clove]

I HATE MYSELF
SO MUCH
I TYPED A ROLEPLAY THEN CLICKED THE X ON THE TAB
GRRRRRRRRRRR

-------

Merciless Hunters

Splashtide didn't flinch. He rolled his eyes and let out a sound of amusement. He was starting to get tired of that other cat. Oh well, he would just have to deal with it.

"Well, if Starclan didn't intend me to catch that rabbit for the clan, they wouldn't have let me, or brought it my way, would they?" He wasn't sure he believed his own words.

"Besides, is it any fairer if falling rocks or foxes take young apprentices or haven't lived, or brave senior warriors who would've deserved to be honored as elders?," he questioned in a tender voice with an underlying dark tone. As he continued speaking, the tenderness was gone. His voice was dark and serious.

"Warriors kill prey, and prey feeds the clan. If prey did not die to feed us, they would eat themselves out of food. We would all die and not produce enough young. We might even feast on each other. It's the way it works."

He ended his condescending speech then turned and padded away, not having anything else to say at that moment. He might have went a little too far with that rant. He was certain Cyanide was already aware of that, Splashtide just thought he would remind the other Warrior of the reality. If the warrior felt treated like a naive kit, then so be it.

No permanent harm done.

Warning: The possibility of starvation and cannibalism are mentioned.

Read if you dare....

Dark Places

He patrolled the space, recalling where he hid the prey. He could never admit it out loud, but perhaps that had caught an abundance of prey. The catches were plump but that meant the clan's bellies would be well and full. No eating each other today. He snickered at the strange idea. If it came down to it would he kill and eat Cyanide? Or another cat?

He pondered for a moment.

Only if he was truly starving would he dare resort to such a ghastly thing. He knew he definitely wouldn't be another cat's meal without giving him or her a challenge. With any luck, he and his opponent would kill each other and be eaten by different cats. Assuming that could ever be a possibly, he hoped his flesh would feed strong-willed and noble warriors who would search endlessly for a place of abundant prey and a new camp to make a living at.

He shook off the strange thoughts and directed his mind elsewhere.

Moving on...

Egotism

He had always wanted to obtain a rabbit kill his whole life. Several moons of training and hunting had prepared him for this day, and he wasn't going to let the other warrior get to him. He had earned that rabbit. He was fulfilled in that aspect. There were others waiting for him, and he had a feeling Starclan wouldn't fail if he remained a fierce and loyal Warrior, worthy of being admired, trusted, and adored.

Splashtide arrived back at the spot he started and wondered how it would be transported. The snake, although not the biggest they can get, would still be the biggest of the haul, with the rabbit following. He supposed it would be wise to take the largest prey items to camp first, then come back for the smaller pieces. He was a healthy, strong warrior, so he doubted it would be difficult.

He wondered if he should voice his thoughts to Cyanide.

He flicked his gaze to the other tom. He snorted. What kind of name was that anyway? He realized he had no idea what a "Cyanide" was. He almost wanted to ask, but other clanmates might know, and he wasn't about to risk appearing unintelligent.

----

Notes: Splashtide is such a jerk, but he's good inside.. even if his arrogance suppresses it ~

Wouldn't the threat of cannibalism because of starvation make an interesting plot? However, that could get weird and disturbing.

[Rofl]

[Blair ;;]

CAN I EAT YOUR CHARACTER? 8DDDDDDDD...
Lol no. xD
Like the plot idea, but of course. . I don't think some people would. And I don't really want to eat chu. D: I don't feel like you'd taste good.
Also, I apologize in advance for . . this. You'll see. I don't like talking bad about other member's chars. xD But Cyan be bipolar~!

Cyanide began to speak, but was silenced by the cat's rant. Of. . cannibalism? Is that what that stupid cat was talking about, eating each other if it came to starvation and all the other cats were dead? His eyes slightly quivered at the thought, his stomach seemed to hurt after. Eating someone like that. . Why would they do that? They were all creatures of the forest, the same creatures. StarClan definitely would not want them to eat each other. His quite pelt looked darker as the cat stalked away, walking away from him. What a moron. His eyes prickled with hatred. Why would someone of such. . idiocy, walk away from him? It wasn't fair. His blood boiled.

Stupid, stupid cat. Why would he ever even think like that? Maybe he was a killer, like a cat of CardinalClan. It was very possible that he was. Maybe he was a cannibal, only after to eat the same of his kind. Disgusting little maggot. Cyanide looked over at Rockmask. Maybe she was just as mad at him as he was. Of course, maybe she was just sitting there and deciding not to talk for the rest of the time. He lashed his tail, remembering the cat walking away. Even his name was annoying, it didn't fit him one bit. Oh wait, if you thought about it enough, it met him just perfectly.

Splashtide. It was a subtle name for a subtle person who didn't know how to take care of themselves. Who didn't know the warrior code or StarClan or anything. If he thought that Cyanide was a weird name, he should think about his own. It was vile, disgusting. It sounded like he was something to drink and to bathe in. Like an ocean of some sort. Like something his mother would spit at. Cyanide's mother would definitely not like Splashtide. Nor would she tolerate his idiocy. She would understand Cyanide and how much he hated Splashtide's stupid, mouse brained guts.

Oh, and that cat was so happy he had caught a rabbit. He would probably never catch another in his life. Or even in a different lifetime. It was just a freak thing. That rabbit probably had maggots just like the cat that caught it. Hopefully, Splashtide would be so happy about his catch that. . he would eat it. And he would get all the maggots infested in him and he would die without Cyanide's need to kill him. Cyanide's claws raked into the soft ground. Perfect. That would always be the perfect plan. Maybe he would actually be a great cat to be near. . A smirk.

Of course, his stupidity didn't get the best of him. Cyanide glanced at Rockmask, then at the prey. "I'm going to head back around the territory. . Alright?'' He gave her a moment to respond, and when she didn't he picked up the prey that he had caught into his mouth and headed to the east, further away from the cat that he had just talked to. He didn't want to run into his idiocy ever again. His ears prickled with annoyance. He reached yet another soft spot in the dirt and began to dig, burying his catches.

He could still see the tomcat in the distance. He rolled his eyes. Idiocy in the making. What was he thinking, anyway? Probably how to kill the other cats. . Cyanide's blood boiled. If only the leader would believe him if he said that he was going to soon kill the rest of the clan. . But Cyanide lied too much for that cat to believe him.

[663 words.]