Look into My Eyes -open-

[garnetrose]

A beautiful, petite rogue stepped out of the darkness that engulfed her. She blinked her bloody russet colored eyes, fire burning in their seemingly endless depths. She relaxed her muscles and allowed her fur to lie flat on her shoulders. Carefully lifting a dirty white paw, she placed it on a stone, her claws scraping across like razors. So peaceful she seems, but the tabby was powerful, this was Garnetrose. This was walking death, only many times worse.

She spotted a raven, glaring at the obsidian bird with bloodlust glazing her beautiful eyes. She crouched down, stalked forward, and stood silently, almost as if the rogue were no more than a statue, a tabby and white marble figure. Then, she leapt at the bird, her claws slashing its throat. The kill was swift and easy, almost as if the hunt was scripted and practiced until the final showing.

Lethal and beautiful she was. Short brown tabby fur sleek and well-groomed, unexpected of a rogue. Normally alone, for the exception of meetings, the only time she spent at camp. She took care of herself, not caring what happened to the "Clan". She walked alone, and always will.

"Where does the starshine show
In through the cloudy night
Staring at the moon
Begging for the day.

There she walks the nightlit pass
The same path of her father
Yet she wishes for her own path
But is unable to escape.

The killer inside the girl
Is beginning to show it through
Though she tries to fight
She finds the loss of time

Somewhere is the warrior inside
Waiting to unleash its power
But the dark inside the girl
Covers her ways."

Garnetrose was gifted in the arts of the poet. She had her favorites and misgivings of these words. But the lyrics told of her next time in camp, the next time as a warrior. She wasn't a true member, for the tabby she-cat had a small hollow where she made her den. A loner she was born, a loner she will die.


Word Count \ 344

[//Cindy// l u n a]

ooc; they seem to have quite a bit in common; they could be "friends", enemies, or nether. If they somehow became "friends" they could go out into Clan territory together and get into fights.

There was a certain tang to the air, a dangerous and mysterious scent that drifted through all of RogueClan territory. It was strongest at the well-marked borders, of course, but everywhere in the swamps and dark forests the smell was evident. It was part of what made RogueClan so formidable. Scary. But it's all empty threats - that weak leader would never harm a mouse. He probably thanks StarClan when he catches his prey. Shimmer had known the leader during her brief stay in the Clan. She hadn't liked what she'd learned. The place was full of toms who thought their big muscles owned the forest. Darkheart himself was a small cat - but the typical pitch black that seemed to mark out tough, evil felines. Shimmer had been out of place; she looked weak but was the only truly strong cat there.

Now she wandered through the territory, many moons after she had last slept in a den there. She enjoyed the freedom of her loner existence, and was only returning to taunt a weakling rogue. She wanted for find some big, dark, scary tom... and then thoroughly beat them in a fight. She opened her jaws and let the sharply scented air rush into her mouth, tasting its subtle messages. She wasn't terribly surprised to find what she did: the fresh smell of a she-cat. Of course both genders occupied the camp, and both were equally tough-looking. But the she-cats were just as much fakers as the toms, all brawn and not as much brain. Shimmer was a little disappointed, however, because toms were much more fun to trick.

Shimmer skimmed over herself with her clear, gray-blue gaze. Her long, luxurious fur was well-groomed and seemed to catch some moonlight. Her cream-white body and silver point pattern stood out as much as a ebony cat would in the snow - but she had no desire to hide. She loved to stand out, to attract attention from pathetic toms and jealous she-cats. She knew she was beautiful. Her long, graceful legs and dainty little paws seemed, at first glance, fragile. They were anything but. Well hidden beneath silky fur were plenty of strong muscles, and enough claw to do some serious damage. Shimmer let her cute ears perk up towards where the scent seemed to be coming from and heard an almost soundless landing, as if some cat had just pounced on a mouse or bird.

She decided, for no particular reason, not to call out and attract the feline's attention with noise. Instead, she padded forward towards where the other had to be. The nighttime breeze changed directions just then, and she knew that it would carry her scent and alert the other of her presence. Shimmer smiled a cold smile, her eyes glittering in anticipation for the fight and the adrenaline that was, to Shimmer, almost like a drug.

[garnetrose]

Another cat entered what claimed was her land, though the scent was almost unfamiliar. The very small tabby rogue whipped her head around to face the other cat, another she-cat. Garnetrose had heard much about the she-cat, especially her killer instinct, much like her own. Yet she trusted no cat, at least not without worth.

Her deep russet-colored eyes blazed with a hue that looked as if there was blood and fire making them. Small she may be, but one flick of a painful memory she recieves and she would twist the other she-cat's mind in knots. Her father was killed that way and so was her first apprentice Shadow. She was skilled physically and mentally, especially for a cat who had no mentor herself.

She unsheathed her claws and drew her lip back to reveal pointed canines, her backup to her claws and mind-twisting. She stalked up to the larger cat, her russet eyes gleaming.

"What are you doing here, pretty girl? What would you want with me, Garnetrose, the most powerful mind-twister in the territory?" she growled through her teeth, claws scrapping the soft ground beneath her paws.

One painful memory or regret. That is all I need to have this pretty girl begging for her death.

[//Cindy// l u n a]

ooc; there aren't really any powers or magical cats on this site...

Mind twister? Strange... Shimmer didn't know the phrase. Perhaps it was something like her own ability to deceive. Her acting was good enough that she could gain the trust of nearly any cat by pretending to be a kittypet or helpless young thing. But she realized that any cat who seemed so much like her would not fall for anything of that sort. She would tell the truth - and let the chips fall where they would. She couldn't help but smile as Garnetrose so concededly asked what Shimmer wanted with her.

"I did not come to find a cat. I came to fight. Not with you, but with one of the weak fakers that seem to infest this land. Unless you yourself are not as powerful as you seem to think you are, I have no desire to kill you." Her smile was almost polite, but the glittering evil in her eyes was anything but. The blue sparkled in the darkness, but it was not with beauty. She slid out her pearl claws, talons raking the earth. It was a subtle threat; she seemed only to be playing with the dirt beneath her paws. She didn't bother to show her fangs off; every cat had them.

Shimmer's tail was well under control. She made it flick back and forth with irritation, though the cat herself was far from irritated. She was enjoying herself and this moment. Perhaps she would fight this cat, perhaps she would fight some bone-headed tom who wandered by. Either way, Shimmer would get her adrenaline. That chemical soothed her system, let her survive without a fight for around a quarter-moon. Somehow she was able to make the addicting thrill last for days. She could already feel a bit of it being released inside her. Wonderful...

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