[forced perspective] immortalbreath.

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The scene from earlier was still fresh in his mind, the daze of battle like a mere dream to him. But it was far too real; he had the wounds to prove it. However, the tom did not wish to go gloating them around, and therefore curled up in the furthest corner of the warrior's den, a place he generally slept at. It was cold, and the snow from outside was partially expose, but the chill helped take his mind off the pain and the sight of his father dying once more. Snorting at the very thought, he stretched out painfully, tail not even bothering to lash in response. His red stained claws gripped the cold dirt beneath him, clenching and then releasing the brown material. There was already little holes forming, which reminded him of graves being opened and covered.

With a heavy sigh, Snaketongue lowered his head between his legs, eyelids drooping halfway. He was tired, cold, sore, and grumpy. Nothing could certainly cheer him up. Unless, of course, Immortalbreath decided to visit him. Not that he was that happy about the she-cat. She was an okay cat. She had proved that in battle, of course. But were they actually friends? Or merely fellow warriors that provided the basic help that fighters could give to each another? And why was he thinking about it so deeply? Annoyed, he slashed at a little pile of snow, wriggling his toes at the numbing cold that ran through his veins. Darn leafbare and all its hardships.

Ignoring the sound of his fellow clan mates, the black tom closed his eyes. He wasn't really going to sleep. Resting seemed like a better option, for he did not feel safe in his dreams. It was possible that his father would visit him in a nightmare and challenge him to yet another duel. Or maybe he'd dream about his lovely mother and dear friend, Lightningstorm. StarClan, why was he thinking so much today? His head already throbbed. Throwing a paw over his muzzle, he groaned, clearly at a loss with himself.

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[Sacrifice]

Today had been a painful reminder of exactly why she had come to the clans; after going with Snaketongue to get her wounds treating, and making up a convincing story about a rogue battle, she had watched the black tom go over to the warriors den, and she herself, she had decided to go back out into the forest. Sleep, it would be impossible now, not with memories so close to surface. She was not foolish though, despite her wandering thoughts, her paws kept her away from that spot, instead, taking her to one of the usual hideouts, a place where the average warrior wouldn’t be able to fit; even for her it was a squeeze. With a sneeze, she brushed the snow off her face, and climbed up the small ridge, overlooking the territory. At the moment things were calm, but she had learned exactly how fast that could change, and for no apparent reason for that matter. What exactly had happened? The haze of battle had made things focused only on fighting, but now, now in the silence of the territory, she found her thoughts circling back to the fight, and to the scars of the past it held with it.

It had started out pretty normal, aside from the fact she hadn’t been alone during hunting, and for a while, had been alright. And then, something came. There had been no mistaking the fact that they had been dead; she had seen the wounds that had killed them before, or that they were as dark as they had been in the past. Their taunting calls, the voices echoing in her head, it caused a shiver to run down the albino’s spine. How often had she heard those voices, back when she had been defenseless, back before she knew how to fight? He had kept them away at first, but that protection had only lasted until she was an apprentice; when she had to either learn how to fight for herself or die. Where did she really come from? Immortalbreath had never met her parents; she didn’t even know if she had any siblings for that matter. Her earliest memory had been that of living with the rogues. Normally, it didn’t bother her, where she came from. But now, it was like a nagging thought, always in the back of her mind, wondering, and not really helping anything such as being actually calm.

She had seen the looks; the open, gawking stares as the cannibal freak and the deformed silent freak walked into camp, covered in blood and wounds, both holding a bit of prey though. Everyone had gone silent, and they hadn’t stopped staring; it had made her pelt prickle, but it was solved with a single glare at anyone looking hostile; which had been pretty much everyone. The medicine cat hadn’t said anything; but her posture had been more than enough for the red eyed she cat; even the gentlest cat of MoonClan had thought this to not only to be odd, but also a bit creepy. Though, for some reason, as she looked at Snaketongue, she had jumped in surprise, muttering something about StarClan and signs and other gunk that she had stopped listening about a while ago. After applying whatever she did to make sure the wounds would heal properly, they had been told to take it easy, but, there were a few things that Immortalbreath had wanted to figure out first, and as usual, against orders, she had come out into the snow. Ok, she was out here, now what was she suppose to think about?

Memories, was that what she wanted to think about? Why would she want to think about that though? On the way here, although for the most part she had stayed away, Immortalbreath had made sure that they hadn’t missed anything in the clean up, overturning a stray patch of bloody snow. Despite the scars, physical and mental, it had been a gloomy thing, watching the tawny tom die. When something that was part of your life for so long is killed once more, no matter what has happened, you are bound to feel some remorse about it. And despite what had happened, Immortalbreath was still firm on the thought of StarClan; they would have helped if there had actually been something like that. It did seem though, that the dark place existed. Fine then, one thing did indeed exist, but what was she suppose to do about it? It wasn’t as if she was going to tell anyone about it, no way in this world was anyone ever going to get what happened from her. Snaketongue wouldn’t be telling anyone either; she had seen his expression when his father had been killed again; it had mirrored her own look.

Snaketongue, she had heard him speak, but were they…friends? Or had he been doing something he saw simply as his duty, or something out of revenge? And had she saved him because they were friends? Or had it been for one of the reasons above? It was so confusing, and her thoughts were all straying back to the same thing it seemed; she couldn’t tell really with that tom. The first time she had ever been able to read him was today, and that was because she knew of battle oh so well, after that, it had been pretty blank. And then the herbs she had eaten probably didn’t help her concentration either; fatigue was flickering to life all through her, as well as the typical throbbing of a new wound. Maybe it was time she finally got back to camp and slept, she wasn’t going to the gathering tonight, that would be a sign of weakness on MoonClan’s part. Even as she watched, she saw the group head out, and it wasn’t until the last cat scampered out, did she start making her way down the snowy path, being careful not to slip on the surface; taking a fall was not high on her priority list.

At last reaching the camp, Immortalbreath shook off the snow that had gathered on her pelt once more, and looked around the camp; a good amount of warriors were gone. Maybe she really would be able to get some sleep after all then, if she decided to sleep, sometimes resting was easier. Making her way toward the Warriors den, Immortalbreath glanced at the now empty fresh kill pile, and shrugged. She wasn’t hungry anymore, it really didn’t matter that there wasn’t anything there. It wasn’t as though this was the first time that she had gone without something to eat. Stepping into the warriors den, pelt bright against the darkness of the den, Immortalbreath’s gaze flickered over to Snaketongue, whom was simply resting she saw, before going over to her own nest, the corner opposite of the toms. Head resting on her paws, Immortalbreath’s gaze was just slits of ruby, as she watched the entrance and exit of the den, as though she was monitoring who was coming in and out; actually, she was. However, that didn’t mean she wasn’t paying attention to Snaketongue, who was, aside from her, probably the only one who wasn’t asleep right now. She was just watching him with her other senses; she trusted him enough not to have to watch him with her gaze.

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Snaketongue flicked an ear in response to Immortalbreath's arrival, shifting so he was facing her without actually staring at the she-cat. At least they were somewhat alone, save for the couple of cats that had remained behind, sleeping. He felt a little safer, knowing that a cat that had helped him in battle was there. Huffing at his awkwardly morphing thoughts, he rolled on to his back, sort of curled up in a C shape. His tail wriggled only on the tip, ears flopped against the ground. His hind paws pulled up against his sides, adding the comical appearance of this rather silent (though not so silent anymore) tom.

For a moment, his bare rump lay in the little pile of snow he had slapped earlier. But eventually, the chills that sent shivers through his spine caused the tom to hop up, angrily fluffing out his fur and giving it a shake. Tip toeing just a little ways from the white powder, he settled down again, inadvertently just a weensy bit closer to the white she-cat.

As he lay curled up on the ground, the tom couldn't help but also stare out at the entrance of the den, though he looked like a ball of black fur with two little stars for eyes, rather then a pile of snow with two drop of blood on the top. A passing warrior that had returned from hunting gave a shudder, walking past the two rather quickly. Snaketongue snorted, unamused. Well screw the lot of them. He had just fought for his life with Immortalbreath. If only they knew. Maybe they'd give them some sort of respect. Or maybe they'd just call them insane. Wouldn't that be touching?

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[Sacrifice]

Hiding an amused glance as Snaketongue adjusted himself, something that shone ever so faintly in her red gaze; Immortalbreath watched the others after Snaketongue had rearranged himself. How in the world did snow get in here? The only thing she could think of was the wind, but wasn’t it blocked by the entrance? Maybe it was just the luck of the clan; snow in the warriors den. At least it was in the back for the most part though, nobody that was worth anything slept back there. Oh yes, as the remaining cats shifted slightly, almost as if knowing the two freaks of the clan were there; she knew the thoughts of the clan as well as everyone else. It was mostly directed at her though; nobody knew of her past, and that alone made her a mysterious character. Add in the rumor of cannibalism; you have the perfect story to scare kits and apprentices alike. In fact, now that she thought about it, the black tom beside her, thanks today, probably knew more than anyone else did, even though he had only heard words; a single word could portray a thousand pictures. But then again, he might have been focused on his own battle as well, she didn’t know.

There was only the soft sound of breathing in the warriors den; but as already proven today, silence was not a problem for Immortalbreath. But it seemed to be for the other warriors; the ones who had been asleep until she had come in. Now, almost as though they were afraid of the two, one by one, they rose up, one looking back with a disgusted look at the white she cat, and then flinching as her eyes met the red eyes of the she cat. Typical spineless warrior, couldn’t back up their challenge. Raising her head up slightly, eyes narrowed, Immortalbreath seemed to invite the other she cat to come and try something; she seemed to dare the other cat. As if she hadn’t fought enough already for the day, but these weren’t scary cats, their fighting style was all the same, ingrained into them since kithood. Grinning faintly once more, Immortalbreath watched as the rest of the cats glanced back at the two of them, and then trudged off, as though they didn’t want to breathe the same air as the two oddities of the clan; maybe they were afraid that without their comrades, they were going to get eaten or something.

”Spineless bunch they are.” Immortalbreath muttered, as she watched the last cat back out of the den, not wanting to turn its back on the two; fear sparked slightly in its gaze as the calico noted that she was indeed, the last ‘sane’ cat in the den. Eyes narrowed in the dark, Immortalbreath snorted faintly, shaking her head, though in amusement, annoyance, or something else, even she didn’t know. To say it had been a day would be a drastic understatement, but anyone who hadn’t been there and happened to hear the story would simply scoff, and say that it was all made up, that the truth was something that those two just didn’t know. And maybe it was true, but like with normal, what exactly was the truth? Maybe the definitions went paw in paw with each other, it was hard to tell. As she watched the warriors pass outside; she didn’t miss the shudder from that one who had glanced in; amusement flashed in the gaze of the white she cat. The actions of the clan cats had always been amusing though; that was why they were so fun to torment. Probably the whole reason she acted the way she acted; if one was to really think about it.

Not being sure exactly what the tom beside her was thinking about though, or if his silence had returned once more, the white she cat continued her watching of the entrance, the snow lightly falling after having stopped. When was it going to stop?! She wouldn’t be able to stand too much of the cold white stuff; even now the amount outside was testing her patience, and her battle skills it seemed. All the more reason to hate it; not that she needed any help in that matter. There were very few cats that she trusted to an extent, and the only one she did that was in the clan was over in the other corner; never before had she really accepted how exiled she really was. It seemed that the tawny tom had been right, even in death, he still kept his hold over her, exiling her from the world of normal, and altering her until being a freak was the only thing she was good at. It was a sad life indeed, but what else was there? She couldn’t run anymore, and going back to the rogues, that was never going to happen. Never again.

Wait, was she admitting she was lonely? Where did that come from; she had never had those thoughts in the past. The herbs must be doing something to her mind, making her thinking sharper and more in depth then it usually was. Blast those herbs, this day had been as odd as they came. First hunting with someone else, then getting into one of the most dangerous, but not the most, battles of her life, and now, back in the warriors den contemplating things such as how lonely she was. She had always been a loner! This was nothing new for her. Huffing mentally, Immortalbreath cleared her mind, focused on just watching, thinking seemed to be an enemy at the moment. Part of her wondered if it was the same way for the tom not too far away from her; but with a mental shove, she brought her mind back to watching, and watching alone. It would do no good thinking about what she didn’t know, or couldn’t change. A fraction of her mind though, wondered if she had actually done something that had never been done before, had she made a friend?

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The tom glanced around, then looked over at his companion. "They act as if they are frightened kits," rumbled the black warrior, who crossed his front paws neatly before him. He surprised himself, talking as much as he just did. But, when this she-cat was besides him, it felt correct. Although his voice was a bit strained. He'd have to go easy on it. Flicking an ear, Snaketongue watched the snow fall, wondering if it would ever ease up the wild cats. Were they being punished? Or was mother nature just wanting to pour as much snow as she could on the wildlife?

Either way, Snaketongue did not enjoy it, his upper lip curling in distaste to extend such a fact. His eyes drifted back over to Immortalbreath, wondering what she was thinking about. They both had apparently done a lot of thinking today, though he wasn't sure what she had been contemplating. Realizing that staring, towards her anyways, was rude, he looked away. Now his focus was on the shivering cats outside, who were unable to bring themselves to share a den with such odd creatures. A sadistic smirk crossed his muzzle, eyes narrowing. Hah! Such fools, choosing to numb themselves out in the snow rather then staying somewhat warm in the safety of the den. They were truly imbeciles.

Lashing his tail, the little warrior lowered his head back down, eyes closing. At least it was nice, and quiet. And that tom that always slept with his rump in Snaketongue's face wasn't there. StarClan did he hate that tom. If he could, he would've pushed him off a ledge or something. Anything to get rid of that blasted tabby cat that insisted on snoring and shoving his backside into people's faces.

[Sacrifice]

Quiet in the warriors den; who would have thought it to be possible? There was usually always at least one cat, usually the one over somewhere who snored all the time, in here, making some noise. If anything, the wounds, they seemed to frighten the other warriors even more. Before what had happened, they had at least been considerate enough to share then den, even if it was only to keep themselves from freezing. Now though, as Immortalbreath watched them shiver and tremble in the snow, a faint touch of satisfaction flickered in her gaze; she had had enough of the snow and cold, she couldn’t feel her toes for the most part. They could either share or freeze, and judging by the looks that she was receiving, as well as the tom beside her, it looked as though they were going to freeze. What would make this better though, would be if the leader or deputy came up, and then reprimanded the whole group for being foolish, and that there was nothing wrong with sharing with fellow clan mates, and basically forcing the cats back into the den; ignoring their obvious fear, writing it off as defiance. It would be…very entertaing, that was for sure.

Like before, Immortalbreath showed no surprise that Snaketongue had spoken; it was almost as though he had always spoken, with the amount of excitement she raised. It had always been better to go with the flow though; and if any of the imbeciles would stir up a fuss. One that, as she glanced back at the other warrior with a faint touch of amusement, she would end as soon as she found the one who had started said rumor, there were a lot of things you could do and still never actually touch a cat.
”In a way, maybe. Frightened kits would at least try to poke what they were afraid of before running off. And then keep coming back for more, if they weren’t yelled at.” Immortalbreath said with a shrug, eyes back to the outside. Staring was rude; and despite what many thought, manners had been drilled into her during the younger parts of her life. It just hadn’t ever shown up until there was a reason to be polite; a reason to actually be considerate of someone else. It was something that was old to her, but with the time that had passed since she had last used them, it felt rather new.

Gaze considering as she watched the shivering cats outside, Immortalbreath made a semi-amused sound.
”They are probably afraid I’ll bite them. And the wounds probably make them afraid of what you could do as well. Since they all apparently know all about me. “ Immortalbreath muttered, shaking her head slightly, before grinning a pointy grin in the direction of the shivering cats, watching as they jolted back slightly, before simply blinking, and then placing her head back down; content. It was quiet here for once, but she wasn’t going to sleep. Resting would do, and although the other cats were outside, she didn’t trust them. There had always been one who had taken it upon himself to get thorns in other cat’s nests; including her own. If she could just figure out who it was, then maybe they could have a talk about it; if she knew the other cats as well as she thought she did, then it wouldn’t take too much to make them quit. Who knows, maybe she’d even find out who was the one who happened to snore all the time; she wouldn’t mind having a little chat with him either.

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