2 MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT + PURSUIT

[kuiper]

The sky has since taken on a sombre darkness. A cloud covering hides the rising moon from view, and up until crossing the threshold of twolegplace, Kuiper could not see more than a tree-length before him. Thus - rather than sight - he relied on memory, a fervent drive for survival, and the sound of RiverClan pawsteps hot on his heels to guide him there.

He did not intend to die tonight. It's too soon, and there is a lot more work to do on his itinerary. Making it out in one piece seemed feasible so long as his feet didn't fail him.

A stitch develops deep within his gut, and every pawstep feels more cumbersome than the last. But soon enough, he finds himself hurtling down the paved paths of the housefolks' home turf. The place appears to be devoid of twoleg activity - he quickly surmises that they must have returned to their nests until sunrise. Optimistically, he could figure out how to get inside a nest for the night and put a physical barrier in front of those who chased him. But realistically, he's a sopping mess leaving a trail of water on the ground, and the RiverClan cats were quickly bridging the gap.

Without any warning whatsoever, the blinding lights of a monster swerve onto the path, and they advance towards him at a ludicrous speed. Kuiper veers off the thoroughfare and makes a mad dash across a patch of flat grass where wooden fencing stands tall at a distance. His breathing becomes bated as he continues to run, gradually verging on the fence until he arrives at a small hole in the palisades. Not daring to look back, he squeezes through the opening, whereupon he ends up in a back yard of a twoleg nest.

At this point, he holds no frame of reference for how near his pursuers may be. They might have seen him scramble into the fenced-off clearing, or they could have lost him after the monster. Whatever the case, he scurries across the lawn and finds a hidey-hole underneath the nest's back deck.

Kuiper gasps for breath from beneath the wooden flooring, warily eyeing the yard through a crack in the boards.

// 5th reply finds him >:)
// open to non-clan cats and riverclanners chasing after him. @ a kittypet character, maybe this takes place at their home?
// direct continuation of this thread ​

 

[Redpath]

Heavy footsteps pounded after Kuiper through the remainder of the territory and into the twolegplace. Redpath wasn't wasting time on being light on her feet. She wanted him to know she was coming. To feel that sense of inescapable terror of a beast closing in on its prey.

She hadn't been in a twoleg place for some time, but she was familiar enough with the sort of layout they had. She definitely avoided the thunderpath. Not fucking with that, nope. Those funky monsters can have their stinky stone path. She chased alongside it, almost freezing up with dread when a monster nearly struck Kuiper.

She hated him, but that doesn't mean she WANTED to see him become a pancake.

Relieved that she didn't have to witness such a thing, she continued her pursuit. She was further behind now, but she could still smell him. She followed his trail like a bloodhound, arriving at the fence and finding the hole.

Instead of slipping under, she sprung onto the top of the fence and peered into the yard like a bird of prey. Her teeth were bared and her mismatched eyes were wild with wrath.

Where was he.

"You can't hide forever, child killer.." She growled into the yard, leaping down from the fence. Where was he.

"It's time to reap what you have sown."

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[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

to leave the water territory makes her uncomfortable in normal circumstances, but now it is a necessity. she stands still, surveying the land. briefly having her attention caught by a running monster, before going back to eyeing the lands. "no one returns to riverclan without him." its an order, with no room for disobedience. although, with the cats with her, she doubts she will face any. all hellbent for his hide, and she cannot blame him. she wants to be the one to kill him. to take him to her river and drown him, let the rivers claim another victim. mercy is not a concept that buck frequently dances with, frankly, she has not met a cat worthy of it. this tom is no different. she will make sure he rots and the maggots will feed on his rotten flesh.

the riverclan deputy watches redpath for a few heartbeats, watching the woman leave the forest and into the nest of the twolegs. she had supposed she caught the scent of the wretched bastard, and so buck will follow. she does not like to be so close with kittypets and their constant shelters, but if he was hiding out in here, they can't let him remain.

even the grass feels more gentle on this side, but she does not let it distract her. silent to try and hear him, the woman scents the air. trying to catch the scent of sin.
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[GLOOMPAW]

Gloompaw is lucky that her rage-fueled clanmates do not force her to turn back. Instead, she heeds Buckgait's orders just as much as any warrior. Part of her is left with her denmates, her own grief reflected in their terrified eyes. It was her place to stay behind and mourn. Peachpaw would've probably known she couldn't control the situation, and yet she chased Kuiper with all the intentions of avenging her clanmate.

The monster charged past, and the silvery outline of the murderer disappears from her view. The smell of exhaust masks the stench of a criminal. Blinking confusedly, her face then set into an honest snarl, teeth bared in hatred. He didn't deserve to get to run away from this.

Following Redpath near the twoleg's home, she slips through the fence's hole, scrambling onto the other side. Scarily enough, the idea of being away from the rivers made her nervous -- Gloompaw bottles it for later, and tests the air for any signs of the tom, any dripping water on the grass. She caterwauls angrily, tail lashing in frustration.

He could not walk the earth free of accusation. She may not trust her clanmates for certain things, but she does trust them to bring him to justice.​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Redpath better have done as ordered and informed the clan of what happened and Cicadastar before galavanting off after them or so help him he was going to give her an earful when they got. The dark form of the RiverClan warrior rushed swiftly alongside the dappled deputy, pausing to turn to Gloompaw at their heels with venom in her gaze and a jaw set with clenched teeth; seeing the usually cheerful youth like this was a rarity and he hoped to never have to witness it again. "Gloompaw, you'll stay near me or Buckgait, do you understand? No running off on your own." Briefly his orange gaze darted to their new deputy and then back to the apprentice before dark paws tread quickly over smooth stone and broken concrete into the depths of the two-leg place. A spring put him up onto the battered picket fence that wobbled treacherously in places under his weight before leaping down along with the red warrior growling and stalking about. "Quiet." His tail raised, cursing threats and ranting would no sooner alert their prey than send him running; he mulls over the brown molly's remark with an almost snide grin. 'No one returns to RiverClan without him.'
Ah finally, a language he spoke. While Cicadastar was no pushover the fact he opted for peaceful solutions was both admirable and frustrating and Smokethroat would respect and follow his decisions but in this case he feels quite justified in slaughtering this apprentice killer.

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[BEESONG]

beesong did not think he would ever find himself back in the twolegplace, after making the riverside his home. but fate is a funny thing, dragging him along by his whiskers in pursuit of a murderer. a monster who had intruded upon riverclan's sacred lands and drowned a child without remorse. a child who should've had many moons of life to come, a child who had friends and a family that would now have to prepare a too-small body for burial. fate is funny, but above all, fate is cruel. beesong must be cruel, too, if his clan is to be safe by tomorrow's sunrise.

claws scrape uncomfortably against the asphalt of a sidewalk, the medicine cat's silence haunting as they follow their hellbent clanmates. jaw clenched tight and eyes narrowed, cold fury leaving veins frostbitten in its wake. a monster swerves in the patrol's path, narrowly missing them by a whisker's worth, and the murderer is granted a chance to hide from his condemnation. the reek of a murderer overtaken by the nostril-burning fumes of the monster. but beesong does not mirror the snarls of their clanmates, facial features stiff, forbidding.

buckgait tells them what they already know; riverclan will not leave without delivering justice. "i know." beesong's glacial vocals resound from behind the deputy, too composed. he clambers beneath the fence, dragging himself to the other side. the faux grass of a twoleg's lawn tickles his paws, the sensation little more than a ghost. his mouth parts, gathering the scents surrounding him; flowers from the twoleg's garden, a dog's dung, and the river. the river, and peachpaw. a snarl threatens to rip itself from his throat, but he swallows it quickly.

his sharp gaze rakes over the yard, searching with a cold methodicalness. a flash of silver catches his eye, between the cracks in the planks. without a sound, beesong stalks over as quiet as possible, and aims to plunge his claws beneath the deck and rip kuiper from his hiding, with all the controlled poise of a cat hooking a fish from the river. "found the rat." beesong's voice is eerily calm, nearly cheerful in its delivery and directed at his companions in retribution.​

 

[kuiper]

Steady exhalation keeps the rogue in a state of poised immobility, transfixed to the dank soil beneath the platform's protection. The lull of the night assists in his ability to remain composed, but there's an apprehension straining his heartstrings nevertheless - an intuition which contests his momentary seclusion, a perception implying that those who sought him were less than a stone's throw away.

Through a crevice in the planks peers a lone icy iris. It deliberates on the hole in the fence he had crept through, watching its circumference closely for indications of movement. If it weren't for the threatening remarks made by the one perched atop the fence, Kuiper would not have caught on to their presence until the particularly young clan cat made their entry through the gap.

There looked to be four in total. A red femme accoutred in unbridled hate. A she-cat who fell on the more austere side of things. The juvenile who looked fresh out of the womb. And a heavily scarred tom draped in black. All of them unified by blood lust, bound together in their shared idea of retribution.

The sheer animosity painted onto their features instils a heinous triumph deep into his veins. It's as if they truly believed terminating him would bring about an amendment to their status quo. When the clans kill one another day by day, devastating families and loved ones, robbing innocents of their future lives, it is quite paradoxical to see these Riverclanners react this way when the same is done to them.

Observing their respective trajectories and physical make-ups, the tom envisions an escape route. As motley a crew they were, their collective aggression posed a grave threat should caution be thrown to the wind.

His plan matters little in the end. A fifth cat, one he held no awareness of, tears him from his shelter and out into the fray. Pain shoots through one side of his midsection from the claws which punctured his flesh, while the other side is dragged across an array of jagged pebbles before reaching the grass.

By now, his anchored breathing has devolved into rattling heaves. This does not deter his venomous gaze, which latches onto his aggressor's green hues. Knowing that he has less than a moment to act before they're all set upon him, a low growl rolls out from his throat, rapidly growing louder until it becomes a scream-like yowl. He yowls again, shorter this time, before thrusting himself towards @BEESONG, tilting his head askew and aiming to snap his fanged jaws shut around cheeks.

The cries were intended to alert the twolegs who resided in the nest. And if the dog bowl atop the deck was anything to go by, his backup plan will soon come swiftly and powerfully.​

 

[Redpath]

Redpath had never seen Beesong angry like this before. Normally she would be shocked, but right now, only wrath shone in her eyes. She hopped from her perch and bolted for Kuiper with claws extended and fangs bared.

She was upon him like a feral beast, desperate to rip into flesh and spill blood on the grass.

She hadn't noticed the dog bowl, or really considered that twolegs would intervene. She would bite them too, honestly.
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