the illusions we create[open]

[valkyrie]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/2i1zal1.png] FROSTY WANTS TO PLAY If the devil had chosen to take the form of any sin and be a female then he would look something like the essence of lust standing before the breaking light. She was the illustrious queen of a winter’s bitter rein. The frost that nipped at your slowly dying body, capturing your ability to move, contemplate, and breathe. The snow would dance in her favor and the harsh winds that would normally blow for the season’s amusement wouldn’t dare to whistle by her. She was the ghost that skewed to the ground like ice sickles, a threatening beauty. A temptress, that swelled that feeling which sunk into your bloodstream and held a vice grip on your soul. She held a face of welcoming delight but those too pools of emerald that sunk into her ghostly head shined with devilish intentions. She was the birth of the word, curvaceous with each twist that danced along that goddess mimicking body; giving it the ability to enslave you to a solid stare that made you forget how to exhale. She belonged to no one but the wintery body that she was placed in; she danced, slithered further closer to her prey preparing to sink in her fangs. She was the danger mothers warned their sons about, she was possibly to be tomcat's end. Frostbite slithered forward with a defying force as the ground announced her presence to any sharp listener. Her paws gracefully pressed down on the moist earth that sunk under her weight attempting it hardest to support her. The morning air hovered above her, this ghostly mist covered the view making it hard to anyone to scout ahead of any dangers lurking. Of course at this very moment most little creatures would be tucked into their beds curled comfortably sleeping soundly as the sun peaked into view. Barely making any difference as it rays struggled to burst through the heavy white defense. It seemed the sun had returned to show us her love again, yet she couldn’t penetrate fully through the thick blanket over the damp forest. Depressed trees loomed over the petite femme reaching down as if the longed to grasp her. The she-cat was upon the word bored, it lingered in her head and danced ready to dive of the tip of her tongue. Yet he was willfully fighting that urge to let it conquer her, she would find something to bother, something to intrigue her or so she hoped. She was tired at glancing at the same females emotional, the same grouchy and aggressive male faces that did not intimidate her ever. It seemed their own faces only brought intimidation to themselves, as they were scared of what they were. Half of the clan that belongs to Frostclan didn't want to be "evil" she knew it without doubt. She saw it in their dilated orbs when they didn't strike when told or hesitated to kill even prey. It was a shame or perhaps she was just too apathetic, with good reason to be apathetic if that was the case. What reason did she have to feel? What reason did she have to pursue a mate and capture emotions that could render her helpless in the future? The white warrior let out a small sigh as she continued about her random route, thinking of schemes she could pull on naïve little cats. Her sapphire eyes glistened in amusement at the thought, it wouldn’t be long and hopefully she would be able to gain a mentor to bemuse her with their foolishness. She’d be able to make that little cat look like a fool in a second within her presence but a master when in the presence of others. A thrill danced down her spine as a smiled explained her thoughts, she couldn’t wait. ------------------------ Words: 631 Muse: Low Tags: Open Notes: Crappy Postie. Blewh

[Jisa]

The day was absolutely beautiful, despite the persistent mist that always seemed present in the forest. Strong rays of light burst through the light droplets of water in the air, making the air shimmer with vibrant light. If Gingerstrike tilted her head just so, she could make out the little rainbows in the air under the canopy. The ground was moist with the remembrance of a damp night and cool morning, but the temperature had risen to the comfortable degree where the warmth clung to her and raised the flesh under her pelt.

Gingerstrike didn’t stop to admire the view or bask in the glorious golden rays that broke through the tree tops to reach the warming ground, though. Her paws pressed gently against the soft ground, darting swiftly over gnarled tree roots and navigating through the underbrush. Her tail twitched behind her as her eyes searched the air above her, the gentle vibrations in the ground too distant to be bothered trying to locate.

Mice just wouldn’t do today, they were too small, too easy to catch unawares and end their tiny little lives. Gingerstrike longed for the thrill of rushing adrenaline, a pumping heart like the wingbeat of a hummingbird. A real chase.

She froze.

Just there in a shaft of light chirped a thrush, not much more of a challenge than a mouse, but it could fly and that made all the difference. It hopped and trilled again, pecking gently at the ground. Gingerstrike lifted a paw, her claws itching to unsheath and dig into the earth. She slipped forward, the sun catching her golden pelt. Unaware, the thrush hopped forward, singing happily to itself.

In the blink of an eye, Gingerstrike surged forward, gliding across the clearing in a single bound. Startled, the thrush wildly flapped its wings, screeching in alarm. Gingerstrike struck upwards and landed her claws into its body, dragging it back down to earth and biting down with well-developed jaws to end its desperate fluttering.

Satisfied, Gingerstrike picked up the limp prey from the floor just to catch her eye on something, or someone, she would have noticed had she not been so engrossed in the hunt. Content as she was with her results for the morning, Gingerstrike trotted gently toward the flash of white fur in the abundance of trees.

“Good morning,” she called out to signify her presence around the feathers of her victim.

[valkyrie]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/2i1zal1.png] FROST MEETS THE FLAME Frostbite sucked in her breath as she head paw steps come closer to her presence. Her head turned towards the cat who had spoken softly to her, she had known it was a she-cat before she turned but which she-cat well that had been a mystery. The orange tabby had feathers floating about her paws and a feather placed lightly on her cheeks. Good morning eh? She didn't have to ask why the she-cat had been out this morning, hunting had taken place and the prize of prey was claimed by the flame before her. How ironic, fire to ice she was to this she-cat. Both deadly in their own way although she highly doubted this she-cat was atrocious for the hell of it much like her. After all ice was shunned further than a flame, flame provided warmth if used correctly, and light when it was too dark to see. Ice was shunned as they hardly aided with anything but keeping you cold and if you became too cold you lashed out at anything. This was Frostbite; she was too cold and lashed out anything that provoked her negatively. She parted her white jaws into a yawn as she watched the ginger; trying to recall her name was somewhat of a difficult task. Gingerstrike could possibly be her name but she wasn't certain, it was obvious that the female didn't know her name either so she decides it was best not to speak on names at the moment. Settling down onto her hind legs she relaxed into the soil her head slightly cocked to the left as she spoke softly, "Good morning, you rise like the sun the daughter of the flame." She amused her thoughts aloud, she could have gone about insulting the ginger but she felt no need to be hostile. Unless of course the female decided to be brave and listen to the rumors of the white cat standing before her, the ginger wouldn't be hostile to her either. Frostbite knew her reputation in the clan wasn't that of glory, she was beautiful, ruthless in battle, mildly skillful hunter, with a quick tongue but overall was considerate in her clan mate’s eyes. It was amusing to her how easily fooled they could be, it was rare when she was hostile towards cats. After all she had to keep her performance on going or they'd suspect something about her and well she couldn't have that. Frostbite had to have the upper hand among the cats she was surrounded by, thus she was pleased her clan trusted her so blindly not suspecting a thing. It would be hard to suspect a thing when she was just a "sweet she-cat with a fierce tongue" That was nearly every other she-cat in a clan, therefore she fit the profile perfectly. But the white furball had become bored of being gentle she had the thirst to be fatal was as deep as her thoughts that slipped by every time she encountered a cat. She longed to be the devilish thing she was seemed to be born to be. But was that what she really wanted or what she made herself believe she wanted. Frostbite shook her head slightly taking away those thoughts as she focused on the female before her. ------------------------ Words: 549 Muse: low Tags: Gingerstrike, Open Notes: ---

[Jisa]

Gingerstrike laid her prey down on the forest floor, brushing the feathers off from her whiskers gently. The gorgeous, graceful she-cat in front of her was a vision of white and blue. Her eyes stood out against the pale softness of the colour of her pelt. All the deputy could think was that the she-cat in front of her belonged in FrostClan, being that she looked like the embodiment of winter itself. Gingerstrike herself always thought she looked a bit out of place in the clan. It wasn’t just her loner blood that made her feel that way, no, she’d gotten used to the way of the clans, well enough that she had managed to become deputy by some act of StarClan. It was the fact that her fur burnished like the sun, red like fire. Most would think she’d be in SunClan, but this was where she had ended up and it was where she was going to stay.

There was something strange about the way the white she-cat spoke, likening her to the sun and the daughter of a flame, much like her own thoughts but worded more delicately. Gingerstrike felt innate power emanating from the warrior, as if it was kept just beneath the surface of that snowy fur. It was a little intimidating, and Gingerstrike was not prone to feeling intimidated. Gingerstrike shook her fur out gently and sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws.

“Ah, well, the early bird catches the worm and all that,” she shrugged.

Her speech wasn’t formal, just relaxed and subtly questioning, try as she might to keep it out of the lilt of her voice.

“I could say the same of you, after all. Just getting a head start on duties today. Are you just enjoying the weather?"

[valkyrie]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/2i1zal1.png] DON'T PROVOKE THE UNKNOWN Frostbite eyes followed after the prey she had put to rest on the earth's surface, taking time to carefully remove the feathers that were clinging to her whiskers. Her brows furrowed as the female seem to begin to dive within her thoughts, and the white she-cat couldn't figure if it bothered her that she didn't know what the cat was thinking or not. But her deep swim in her thoughts only lasted moments; her body shifted from side to side tossing her fur left and right before she sat down wrapping her long thin tail around her paws. It had been done in such a swift movement it had almost startled Frostbite how quickly she had dove into her thoughts and then retreated as if it was a simple task. Yet Frostbite didn't question it she too could do that and perhaps any other cat could although it was unlikely to happen with many cats it was still possible. When the she-cat spoke again she felt a feeling reel out with them but she couldn't detect it fully but she knew something was there. Therefore the marble statue nodded in agreement at the feline before her. It wasn't until the she-cat had asked her purpose that Frostbite eyes roamed over her again. She felt the urge to snap out, 'what did it matter to you?' But she knew better there was absolutely no need for such reaction after all there wasn't any tension presence that she could pick up on. She reluctant to say that she was just wandering but Frostbite had been doing more than that. She had been plotting, plotting the end of many of her clan mates just to keep her entertained before her day of performance started. After all every actor or actress needed a break? She had taken hers with a walk and a brain scrambling with ideas of how she could turn cats against each other, and take her rule. Not that Frostbite wasn’t impulsive enough to make these things happen, she just needed a reason to act on her thoughts. Aside from the fact that she was honestly too into her role to break it just yet, besides Frostbite wasn't going to be deadly unless of course someone provoked her. She was the rattle snake shaking her rattle in fear striking warning yet she didn't strike unless you came to close and well no one was coming to close yet. But when they do.... she thought as a thrill slithered down her spine and escaped through her tail. Till that day arrived she was to be bored with all this "consideration" she apparently possessed. Attention averting back to the ginger cat as she spoke clearly, "Wandering about looking for the company of silence so I could clear my head. You'd do the same wouldn't you if things were being bottled up inside your head. Those thoughts twisting into knots as you over looked them because it wasn't the time to fully examine them." ------------------------ Words: 500 Muse: low Tags: Gingerstrike, Open Notes: ---