Post by venomfang on Feb 17, 2006 20:08:15 GMT -5
Venomfang
Shadow Clan
Warrior
Twenty Four Moons
Masculine
A dark brown pelt had been adorned to Venomfang, a rather dark and glossy hue indeed. Bold, tabby markings streak through his fur, making him look as if he had always been the ideal stray. His broad muzzle is white, and that is the only pattern that breaks away from his classic tabby markings.
Venomfang
Venomfang is what his name sounds: harsh, cold, and spiteful. Taking orders isn't always his strength, and demands a reason why he should go do that deed. He can be rather flirtatious around the certain female population, but is quite an ass. Around toms, he is competitive, ruthless, and aggressive. He hates being overranked by males, and often challenges them over pride.
Drip...
The skies were a deep blue, almost black, but only the tint of navy held it onto the last remaining hints of color. Little white spots glittered in the soft hues of the beyond, acting as natural night-lights for all the creatures that were creeping through the dark night. The moon was gone, along whith the eerie moonlight that bleached the forest with the light that it stole from it's sister, the Sun.
But the lithe, muscular feline who bathed in what little light that was put off by the glinting lights didn't have time to sort out who had been stealing from who, especely when dark matters were in the air, and on his mind.
It was happening again, the attacks. Small groups of warriors would go out to check and enforce the borders, and the next day they would end up limping back, trailing blood, or murdered. The skilled ways that the terrorist, or terrorists, killed the felines so swiftly prooved that there was more than one way to skin a cat. The gruesome deaths had been kept confedential from the lesser-known members in the clan, so it wouldn't scare them.
The dead, skinless bodies of his old comerades were littered around the red clearing, and the stench put off by the carcasses were unbarable. Venomfang gagged, and winced as he saw the features of his old friends. A horrorfied gasp was emmited from his maw against his will, it was Cloudfoot, his brother who's lifeless body lay still on the ground, blood still seeping from his form.
Livid green eyes turned to the heavens, so he would not be able to gaze on the sickenting sight of his dead siblings. His dark lids slowly began to open, to gaze out at the stars, but instead, a terrible scene met his eyes.
The skins of the dead warriors were blowing from the trees above him.. Slowly rocking back and fourth in the chilled midnight breeze... Venomfang gasped, the black and white hide of his brother fell slowly to the ground, soaking in the little puddle of blood that had accumulated from it's discharge.
He would not be able to share tounges with his brother again, it would have been impossible. Slowly backing away into the thicket that he had entered by, the tabby male streaked away, to go warn the leader.
Drop...
Winter
)