COMP THREAD | READ RULES BEFORE JOINING

[Blair ;;]

The silhouette of Murderweapon's large body was only seen as she moved back into the tree. Her back rested against the tree. She smirked, her tail lashing across the ground then wrapping around her large paws. Her claws glinted with a red partial glance. She smirked slightly as she looked downward. There was a shadow covering her to the left side. The leaves of the tree she was under began to fall slowly. Not because of her, but because of the wind. She could barely feel the cold as the snow began to lessen. It was no longer a blizzard. Now, it was just a small flurry. The flurry of snow began to rapidly slow down. Murderweapon smirked at the sky. Finally, someone was actually listening to her. Nature, whatever this specimen was, had been listening when she had thought about the snow slowing. Either that or something was going good for her.

Westfall had never went good for her. I guess you could ask who Westfall is. Not very many cats from these parts knew. Her old clan was brutally murdered. A smirk appeared on her face. For once, she hadn't done the killing. But she had killed Westfall. When she was younger, she was in love with Westfall. He ignored her every move. As if she never existed. No one believed her when she spoke with him. She was always sweet to him. Everyone else was mean to him because he was different. He was rude to everyone he spoke to but he joked with the ones he was close to. Westfall barely even knew her name. That's what ticked her off the most. Murderweapon was always sweet to him, and for what? Nothing? When they became warriors, that was the first time he spoke to her. He chanted her name. That's what made her continue.

Murderweapon was always mean to everyone else, other than Westfall. Everyone could tell she was nice to him. She was always swooning over him. Her claws buried into the soil of the ground as she thought this. But no. He ignored her. He didn't even know. That one day when there was that fire with the murderous cat that was killing everyone, she had cornered him. Of course Westfall didn't know who she was, so he stared at her blankly. She remembers the whole thing.

Fire sprung around all of them. Westfall was in the corner of a den. Or at least, he had been backed into it. Murderweapon saw him. She approached him and he ran into the den. Smart, eh? She snarled at him as his eyes glazed with fear. "Who are you?'' he asked. Murderweapon's eyes flared. He could tell. He jumped back a little ways, staring at her. Murderweapon took anther step. She faced her head towards his. As if her claws weren't already unsheathed, they were even more so as she moved closer to his body. Westfall began to shake. "That's the problem. Do you know that I am your clan mate? I have gone on countless adventures with you. I knew you forever and all you do is ignore me. I really did know you, Westfall. My name's Murderweapon, by the way. My mom named me with because I looked murderous when I was a kit. I'm not a murderer.. Much." Murderweapon would have tried to make amends with him. But he didn't even know who she was. She was the one person that actually cared about him. He should know that. That she was someone who loved and cared deeply for him and he did what? Just ignored her? A hiss curdled in her throat. Westfall gulped. He really didn't know who she was. Murderweapon hadn't been joking when she said he ignored her all of the time when she tried to speak to him. It was real. Her feelings for him. She loved him and he let her go. She didn't love him anymore. The hatred in her eyes made this completely and irrevocably obvious. She hissed again as she took another step closer. Her red eyes glinted with terror as she was moving closer to his body.

"I-I really didn't know, Murderweapon. I'm sorry.." he said. Murderweapon snarled as he spoke again. Her hatred continued to boil within the darkness of her mind. She had loved him. For how long? Since she was a kit and was brought into this clan. Why didn't he see that?

"You're not sorry. I know you're not. Just take your death like the warrior I thought you once were!" before he could let out a blood curdling scream for help, her unsheathed paw slashed against his neck. Blood oozed from the wound as he jumped at her. Murderweapon, though, was faster. She tackled him to the ground and bit into the black fur at his neck. Blood was everywhere within minutes. Her claws scraped against the small pelt of his underbelly. She continued until she knew he was alive but he was no longer screaming. It hurt to much. He was hissing.

"You were once the warrior I loved, but no more! Why did I even come close to loving such a puny coward like yourself?" Murderweapon's eyes met his as she screamed as high as she possibly could. "Answer me!" Finally, after a few moments, Westfall rolled over. Blood was coughed up, the caked blood beginning to slow. His eyes were glimmering with hatred for someone he barely even knew who was trying to kill him. He was thinking, what is she, my stalker. He moaned with hatred and pain as he stared at his murderer. No matter what he said, he was sure to die within the hour. So he spoke in a hushed voice.

"You loved me once for the cat I know I am. . What did you do, stalk me? You're the murderer in this situation. I will not beg for your forgiveness when I do not want it. I don't care about you, Murderweapon. I never have and I never will. There was a reason that I never remembered you. . I don't know you. I never want to know you. All I know is that I want to die after your murderous attempt at killing me. I will not fight back, and I will not try to do so either! I hate you, Murderweapon. . I. ."

Just then, Westfall fell to the ground, dead.

His words were arrows in her skin at that moment. She looked up to the cats around her. One day, she would own them. They would bow down to her like she was their leader, because in all reality, she was. She was the one cat that would rise when everyone else fell. She smirked darkly as she removed her claws from the ground. She looked up at the cloudy sky. She liked the idea.. A cloudy sky. This was something that she enjoyed. Not being able to see the sun. It was too bright. Murderweapon's eyes glinted as she looked up. She was being spoken to.

Who did this little kit think he was? Boat cat? What was he, a moron? Who would call her such a thing. Her eyes flared slightly as she stared at him with a blank expression apon her face. When she realized he was looking at her, she stared at him. Her eyes were a darker red than they had once been before she had been staring directly into his eyes. Murderweapon continued to stare as she spoke. "Boat cat? Ttch. What a stupid prevailing thing to say. My name is Murderweapon. Yours is Fangpaw, you have said. Hmph. You don't look mean enough to be named after something sharp and pointy. Your pelt looks groomed enough to be done by the cutter's the twolegs take their kittypets to." Murderweapon's voice cut through the silence. It was dark, dangerous. The hatred was obvious as her voice spoke. There was a glint of terror in her eyes. It showed that she had a sudden hatred for this cat. She had barely spoken to him, but he wasn't welcome in her world.

Just about no one was welcomed in her world. What kind of cat would actually be welcome? Someone murderous, like her. Someone ruthless. A smirk appeared on her face. Maybe Barkscratch was that kind of cat. Ttch, not with that name. It wasn't the least bit threatening in her opinion. Fangpaw could be a protegee if he just learned how to act. His name was decent enough.. If he learned how to act his own name. It wasn't very. . Smart? Yes, that was the word. Smart. Or needless to say, dumb. Another smirk appeared on her face, her eye raising. She was waiting for a response. No one ignored Murderweapon. No one had the audacity to.

WORD COUNT: 1525

[Clove]

The snow whipped around him. The ground was getting covered by it more and more. He stared at the beautiful, frozen moisture falling all around him. He felt the cold crawling in his thin pelt and across his skin. He shrugged off the shiver. He couldn't relax here. He couldn't be warm. He considered going back. If this place was making him tense and anxious, what was the point? Wasn't that the reason he left camp? The scary black cat could kill him in an instant. Every fur on her pelt seemed to suggest a murderous feline. He looked off into the distance, through the falling snow, imagining where his clan was.

He narrowed his eyes at Fangpaw. He appeared slightly familiar now. Barkscratch had been caught between still hanging out with apprentices to strutting around with the warriors. He had chosen the warriors and decided to ignore the existence of apprentices. He wasn't experienced enough for one anyway. He was an apprentice himself not long ago. He was glad those stressful days were over. He didn't want to remember them. He almost wished he could erase them, but in some ways he cherished the memories, as painful as most of them were. He stared at the white snow on the ground. It burned his eyes.

He scowled and returned his gaze to the cats. Fangpaw was speaking again. A growl attached itself to his throat. Then he realized what Fangpaw had said recently. A clanmate. He swallowed his irritation. What right did this cat know what he was doing here? What was Fangpaw, only an apprentice, doing out in this weather? He wondered if he had anyone to worry about him. If he was from another clan, did he not have any relatives within the clan? Barkscratch wasn't really close to anyone. He kept to himself usually, although he did enjoy socializing. He loved his clan, and that was the truth.

He glanced at Murderweapon. He need to keep an eye on her. She looked extremely dangerous. He kept his distance. He snorted at hearing Fangpaw call Murderweapon "Boat Cat". How creative. He couldn't figure out why, but it probably had something to do with the water. He shook his head, deciding not to think about it too much. There was no reason.

He turned in surprise at spotting another apprentice, Sparrowpaw. He recognized her better than Fangpaw for some reason. He smiled in a friendly way and gave her a nod. Wasn't she apprenticed to some grumpy older She-Cat? Whoever it was, Barkscratch probably didn't like. However, he wanted to get to know Sparrowpaw better, if he could. The other cats meanwhile, he could do without ever talking to them again, or in Murderweapon's case, never seeing. He was willing to fight, but he was afraid.

Barkscratch lifted his head to meet his gaze with Fangpaw's. A thought crossed his mind in wondering if he should tell other warriors about the apprentices leaving camp. He might try to get them to go back, but they most likely wouldn't respect his authority, if he even had any to begin with.

"I just wanted to get away for a while, that's all," he meowed. He dismissed the younger cat with a flick off his tail. He doubted that would be the last he heard that cat's voice. He found himself standing between Murderweapon and Sparrowpaw. If Murderweapon suddenly showed the meaning of her name, he would be the one ripped to shreds. The apprentice could run away. He tried to look nonchalant about it. He guessed he just had some sort of protective warrior instinct.

His brown tabby pelt bristled at the sound of her voice. A growl rose in his throat again, but he did not let it out. He didn't dare. Then, once he heard what she said, he let out a sound of amusement. He smirked at Fangpaw, hoping the strange She-Cats words would have some kind of effect. He shouldn't feel that way, but he couldn't help it. He sat down slowly. He winced as his fur slowly got used to the shock of the cold.

First, he heard the noise. His ears drew back. He could barely register what was happening. He was rolled over all too fast. The wind. It was the wind. The loud, almost painful sound. He dug his claws into the ground. He slipped a few times before he hooked them into something that wasn't covered by snow. He found himself up against a bush. The wind ripped at his thin pelt. It had to pass soon.

The snow was blinding. It was falling thick and fast. It only seemed to get worst. The island seemed to swell with the mass of sticky snow. He glanced down through the wind ripping at his face. He could only see white. He couldn't even make out his pelt. He narrowed his eyes. He couldn't see the other cats. Were they alright? Had the wind blown them away? He put force into every muscle and tried to move, to no avail. He grunted and tried repeatedly. He eventually gave up and relaxed against the bush. It was a blizzard. He wondered how the clans were reacting. Were they all being affected?

After a while he opened his eyes. He was crouching on the ground. The wind was still blowing at odd intervals but nowhere near as violent as before. He stood up carefully. His muscles ached. He almost fell down. He shook his pelt of the snow coating it. He had never been so cold. Ice and snow coated the bush that he believed has saved him. He wondered if Starclan had played any part in what just happened, and what it could possibly mean.

He began moving forward. He discovered things dancing in front of his vision. He shook his head. Fear crept into his body. He couldn't see. He was blinded. He stumbled around, not sure what to do. His brain started functioning, and he stopped and crouched low. He perked his ears and listened closely for any sounds of life. He became increasingly worried at the heavy silence. He tried to calm himself. Perhaps they were just slower to recover. They could think everyone else is dead. He started to panic again. They could be dead. The wind could've blown them in the water and drowned them. They could've been blown off a cliff or into several trees, jarring their insides.

He focused on himself. He had somewhat deep scratches on his side where he had been shoved into the bush. Blood was seeping out, but the wounds weren't too deep or bad. He licked the cuts as best he could manage. His eyes felt watery. He slid through clumps of bushes in a probably mouse-brained attempt to find the water. He hoped a drink of water would help him, or dunking his head in it. He practically jumped when his claws clacked on a hard surface. He flexed his claws. The island must have been coated in ice. He vaguely wondered if the ice could've frozen cats. He pushed the thought to the very back of his mind.

He wondered around to get his muscles working again. He felt like the ice had seeped into his body deeper than fur and skin. He could still barely see. He guided himself with his whiskers and what he felt on his skin. He heard a scuffling. He became excited and broke into a run. He didn't have time to react when his paws hit something unexpectedly. He was confused and tripped over himself. He went tumbling. He shot his claws out and slid across the snow. His eyes burned.

He blinked a few times. A wetness trailed down his face. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. He opened them and jumped backward, crashing into a tree. A sharp pain jabbed his skull. He was going to die now. Some object had torn his head open. He was going to bleed to death, right here, where there was no one that would care. He had trouble seeing. He didn't know which way camp was. He could guess, but that would be risky. He disliked dying in another clan's territory even more. At least here, it was neutral. He wasn't trespassing. His clanmates had tread on this piece of land at one point. Curse this place. Were the clans suffering too?

He was still alive. He didn't feel any blood. He opened his eyes. The imagines made him tense before their details came in view. Before he could observe his surroundings more closely, a fit of coughing overcame him. The burning in his eyes stopped and was replaced, but the same sensation in his throat. He fell to the ground in a coughing fit more terrible than anything he experienced besides being in the middle of the storm.

He was choking. He couldn't breathe. He worked his lungs hard. He imagined his heart was beating unusually fast. He fought to make the air travel smoothly. It refused. He would die after all. He would rather die of a wound. He prayed to Starclan. He was in their paws now. They could take him or leave him. He almost wished for the former when a pain jolted his stomach.

He tried to stand up. He managed to get on his paws. He swayed. He didn't feel attached. Was Starclan taking him? Was he dying? He couldn't seem to steady himself. He stumbled forward. He ran into another object, one that felt different then what had hit his head. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what was in front of him. The attempt was futile. A sudden gust of wind caused him to fall. The scratches in his side burned when he collapsed into the cold snow. He laid there in agony.

Barkscratch allowed a peacefulness to come over him. He could be with the cats he had known and loved when they had been alive. He could tell that one She-cat how much he loved her, if she didn't already know. He could see his brother, though only a kit in Starclan, and tell him how empty everything was.

He sighed as his muscles relaxed. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Starclan cats all around him. He frowned when that was not the case. He saw trees and bushes. They were coated in snow and ice. They were slightly blurry, but he was seeing better than before. He didn't bother moving.

Word count: 1685 or 1800

Whichever you want to beat.

[Blair ;;]

Murderweapon realized that she hadn't moved for a long moment. She twitched with harsh annoyance. Why were all the cats gathering on the island? Of course it was neutral territory, but there was no reason for them all to be crowding upon this island. She wasn't really part of the conversation, but it was beginning to get on her nerves. All I came out here for was some peace and quiet. But what do I get? Cats from all different clans acting friendly as hell around me as if we aren't enemies. What is this? She looked up at the white snowflakes as they fell, larger now. They were in huge clumps. It was almost as if it was about to begin to blizzard. Eh. That would be awesome, for it to begin to blizzard.. Or is it blizzarding? Is that even a word?

She began to fight with herself in her mind, but stopped in the middle of it. Her muscles shook as she sat up. She looked around at the other cats. She could tell that they were afraid of her. Or at least, a little bit afraid of her. Maybe they weren't afraid of her. Maybe they were just.. Seriously offended that she wasn't talking to them. A smirk appeared on her face. Stupid cats. They only know how to live, and not how to murder. Westfall was too much like them. He didn't know how to say enough, how to shut up and stop acting like a child. Her claws ran through the snow. If only he hadn't ignored her to the point that she wanted to kill him, maybe he would be still alive, sitting beside her and nuzzling her. But no, that was a sick and stupid dream to be a part of. Westfall had fallen into a dark trap called Murderweapon's claws. And he would pay.

Her blood red eyes looked up at the cat coldly. Fangpaw. He was originally from another clan. BlazeClan. Or was it.. I'm-So-Stupid-Clan? It doesn't matter. But now it stays in RussetClan. That is the most cowardly clan, and it meets for a cowardly apprentice. In a tree, no less. How.. idiotic. She walked to the side of the tree and scraped a small claw across the bark. Easily, it tore down the side. Her lips curved into a smirk.

''Did I hear you say.. RussetClan?'' She spoke in a calm voice. It was not a very soothing voice like you may think. But it was not a huge snarl, to tell them to stay back or she would kill them just as she killed anything else that got in her way. It was more of in the middle.. For her voice, she meant. For some idiot like Fangpaw's voice, it would be the strongest snarl that he would ever show. Or someone like that other cat who had been speaking earlier.. Who was it? And what clan was it from? She glanced over at the slightly muscular tom-cat. He was a tabby with yellow-green eyes. He looked evil. As evil as most of these cats could get. Maybe he actually had a spinal chord. And he actually knew how to speak. She turned away. She saw yet another cat in the clearing. She recognized it easily. Sparrowpaw. Sparrowpaw of RussetClan. She was also a tabby, but with a different pattern than the other in the clearing. Her eyes were light green and from this angle, looked huge. And she seemed to zone out a lot..

Murderweapon shook her head, then looked up at the three. Fangpaw was sitting in it, and she realized that it seemed like Fangpaw was the leader at this clearing.. Or whatever this was. Maybe it was an unbeknownst meeting that no one knew about except this small layer of cats. And how exactly did she find out about it? Well, Fangpaw was not going to be the leader of it for long. Without a word, she reached up her paw to hit a leaf. It fell within one strike onto the snow-layered ground. Hey eyes furrowed. Hm. That wasn't what she was aiming for, but it would work. She looked at the branch that the leaf had came from. She then raised up on two of her four paws, a paw catching another leaf, but this time, not falling. She let two of her front paws rest on the branch that the leaves had out shot from, surveying the tree. It had many branches, and was laced with snow. It had small claw marks that were obviously Fangpaw's, but were slowly getting covered by snow. Her eyes narrowed, and she moved agile-like towards the trunk of the tree.

When she was at the trunk of the tree, she ran and jumped onto it, her claws embedded in the bark. Snow fell from the tops of the limbs of trees as she climbed. One piece of snow lightly fell on Fangpaw's head, but she barely even noticed. She reached a few limbs above Fangpaw on the left side instead of the right, where Fangpaw was, and sat down. It was larger than Fangpaw's, and it seemed.. easier to hold. She began to pluck the leaves off of it slowly. She groomed her short haired black pelt, glancing down at the others.

"Hm. Climbing up here sure was . . entertaining.'' she said, smirking at the white plump of snow that had landed on Fangpaw's head. She had just noticed it now. And boy was it hilarious. Thank you for whatever dropped that piece of snow on Fangpaw's face. she said. Some cats thanked StarClan. She didn't understand it. Why would you thank StarClan when it was obviously yourself that was doing this, or another cat? It wasn't some spiritual being from the above region or below region of the Earth. It was the cats that were alive. Screw StarClan. She thought. I killed Westfall and I will become the leader of all four clans without any help from StarClan or the Dark Forest. Neither of them even come close to existing. When you die, you die. It's nothing that keeps you dead and makes your spirit haunt the cats that happened to be alive. You just fade into black. That's it. She ranted. "Do you two want to climb up as well? I'm sure you will find it just as . . fun as I did, eh?" Her voice almost seemed to echo throughout the island. There weren't many cats on the island, just the few that were near this tree, talking to her.

She glanced up at the dark sky. It was no longer a lighter blue. It was getting dark, and there was absolutely no sun that you could see. The moon was vague, but it was covered by clouds. White clouds, that had snow falling. It was almost actually becoming a blizzard. The wind was blowing harsher than it had been earlier. She tried to shield herself, her ears flattening against her head. Curse the wind. Curse everyone who made the weather. Curse StarClan, curse everything. She hated anything that ruined her day even worse than it already was.

''It feels like . . It's about to start becoming a blizzard. You guys think the same?'' There was an odd change of tone. Her voice wasn't as mean, it was more conversational. But it still had a murderous glint. Something that told the other cats around her to stay away, but at the same time it was hinting that she actually had a soul. Who knew? She sat her lower body down on the limb, continuing to pick the leaves off and let them fall. They were not falling on any cat.. Even though I kind of want them to. Of course, if they fell on any cat, she would have to hear them whine like a measly kit.

When she was a kit, she didn't even think about whining. No, she was strong. She was born with a sister, a white kit that she barely even remembered. Was it a she-kit or a tom-cat? She couldn't remember. She could have never lived up to Murderweapon's expectations.. Even though Murderweapon as a kit was naive, she swore one day she would kill both her father and her mother.. And of course, when does Murderweapon not keep her promises?

Murderpaw had just finished hunting. Or, trying to hunt. She had collapsed from how tired she was. Since she was an apprentice, her muscles had not came in as good as they would be when she was a warrior. She was so, so tired. She wanted to dream of Westpaw, and how beautiful, sweet, and sensitive he was.. How great of a apprentice he was.. Within seconds, she was asleep.

Murderpaw slept for twenty minutes when she was awoken by her mother, a paw prodding in her side. She rolled over, then opened her eyes slowly, looking up at her mom. Her mom looked extremely pissed. Murderpaw sat up. Great. I'm going to get abused.. Again. She was used to it, though. It didn't matter anymore. But this time, it was different. "You are so useless! You mean nothing to this clan! Why are you even alive any longer? Because our leader is too soft pawed to kill you. I should have a long time ago. You fell asleep on the job again?!" Murderpaw frowned. That wasn't what she expected. For the first time, she cowered away.

Her father towered over her as well. "Murderpaw, I am very disappointed. I am going to tell your mentor that you have fallen asleep and to demote you from becoming a warrior for the time being, or any time after that. I don't want you in this clan. You should become a loner. Snowkit, your brother, was always better than you. He was beautfiul, and he had to die. Why couldn't you have died instead?"

"I'm sorry I fell asleep, Mother! I didn't--" Hatred was filling her voice, and she got smacked with an unsheathed paw. She fell to the ground, blood falling off of her cheek.

"Shut up!'' Her mother snarled. "Just shut up already and die! I am going back to the leader right now and command you are murdered, just like your name says! I knew it was an omen!'' And the two walked away, snarling to each other how they so much hated their daughter.

Murderweapon remembered the whole thing; How much her mother hated her. How much her father despised her. She remembered just after, how she killed the both of them. A smirk appeared on her face. Why were they so stupid, so dumb, to get in the way of Murderweapon? In any case, they should both have died even more than that. They should have killed themselves instead of her having to do it. If there was a StarClan or a Dark Forest, the would be going to the lighter. How dare she hit me! Thought Murderweapon, her claws embedding into the bark. One day, if she ever saw her mother again, she would kill her a million times over. She did not deserve to live. She didn't even come close to deserving it. Her teeth bared.


Oh, they are so, so stupid. She thought. She then realized what Barkscratch was doing. He was falling at the blizzard. She kept her claws in the bark, but realized how harshly the wind began to move. She tried to hold her own like Barkscratch had, her eyes closing. She wondered if the clans were being effected. Were they running for dear life, or dying? What was happening? It felt freezing. It wasn't as bad as when she was on the ground, because now she had leaves and limbs around her. A few limbs knocked around her body, but she ignored them. All she wanted was to stay warm.

Barkscratch wasn't dead. She could tell. But he sure was freezing. A layer of snow surrounded him. "Barkscratch!" She yelled, but her voice wasn't loud enough. The snow was blocking it. It was keeping it from getting any louder. She snarled at the wind. Stupid mousebrained weather! "Barkscratch, try getting in the tree and getting higher! It's safer here!" Her voice carried more this time, but it seemed to still not be reaching the tabby cat. She didn't want this blizzard to take a cat's life.

And if the blizzard did take a life, it should take Fangpaw's. She narrowed her eyes and pulled her body closer to the branches.

Just then, the wind slowed to a stop. It wasn't a complete stop, but it was a stop no less. The snow was still falling just as fast as it had been earlier. She glanced at Barkscratch, who had his eyes closed, ready for whatever being there was to take his life. Not today. "Hurry, it's a pause! Get in the trees before the blizzard starts up again!'' It hurt her voice to yell as loud as she was.

Word Count ~ 2275