a hundred times over | carrionplace

S

SNOWMASK

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It's an annoyance maybe even a grievance at this point. But she doesn't find herself wanting to beg for anything. Afterall she never sought to join here to seek anyone's approval. She doesn't need it and frankly she does think that these cats need to apologize for their behavior especially when it comes to the other clans. She still remembers when Halfshade told her not to apologizefor them. Then who would? Who can smack some sense into them? Right, she doesn't need their approaval. "Don't need it and certainly never asked for it..." The former rogue and show cat spoke with a frown as she slipped along the pineforest. Whoever is keeping an eye on her she is ignoring for the sake of her own sanity. Really she has half a mind to snap at them and make them feel bad for following her almost everywhere. But she has a goal in mind this afternoon and that is to make her way to that place of rats. The one that is no longer off limits. Her muzzle parts as she scents the pungent odors. But she isn't here for the rats. Disgusting smells and dead things often attract other creatues and she pulls her ears forward.

With silent grace the molly easily moves along the thin brush, silvery gaze lingering here and there before she glances to her guard. "Since you are here you are going to help me. See that crow over there, I'll move around in front of it and you are going to scare it from behind. Straight into my claws. I'll signal." With that she shifts her sleek figure, making her way along the side of the silver linked fence. Her silence is easy her posture controled and when she is there in front of the bird her tail whips to the side. With luck the guard is smart and she watches as they launch forward. The crow gives a squawk and starts to take flight at an angle and then Meli-, no, Snowmask jumps up into the path of the bird. Her claws dig into the birds chest, jaws snapping down on wings and they hit the ground. The squawking ends soon and the crow is dead. Shaking herself she glances at the guard and she smiles brightly. "Good show!"​
 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​
retro to pitchstar's death//

call it whatever you wanted to call it, but if pitchstar didn't trust someone, then likely there was some semblance of a good reason. in this case, chilledgaze hadn't had long enough to truly observe snowmask, even with a new and full name, to see just how untrustworthy she may be. chilledgaze didn't make a habit of having clanmates who they didn't trust enough to not stab them in the back. and trust was certainly earned. from what they've seen, snowmask only seems to have crictism for shadowclan, yet they've yet to see action. or loud words with some force behind them. had they seen that, then maybe snowmask would have caught their interest much more but for now, they seemed to be observing. they're hidden, as a shadowclanner is good at being sneaky, before they make themself known.

"good show indeed. and an interesting tactic."

they note, with a slight raise of their eyebrow. they look around with a twitch of their eyes and a huff outward. the carrionplace. we truly are that desperate, aren't we? they nod to their own inner voice as if answering themself. they were that desperate. until the break of the new season, they would likely remain so. hunger did very crazy things to the brain– pitchstar is proof enough of that theory.

"the kits will surely enjoy that catch."

the queens, then the kits and elders, then the apprentice and then the warriors. that's how it went. that's how they needed to survive. they... would get through this. they had to.
​
 
( ➳ ) Assigned to guard Snowmask, one of the few times her brother actually asked her to something and it was this. Adderjaw can't stand the prissy little molly and all her outsider-speak, all her kittypet-softness, her cowardice and her complete non-understanding of ShadowClan's ways. Yeah, she'll keep an eye on her alright. Catch her alone and chase her all the way off the territory, maybe. She'd tear the molly to shreds, but she doesn't want Tornadopaw to lose a mother (there's a tightness in her chest at the thought) so scaring her off would have to suffice.

Yet Adderjaw finds herself merely following along as Snowmask slips with a surprising show of stealth through the pines, curiosity for once outweighing hatred. Adderjaw knows this path, but what is Snowmask doing heading to the carrionplace? A lot of full-blooded ShadowClanners wouldn't even go there by choice.

She finds herself hanging back, unaware of the third cat which lie even further in hiding; perhaps Pitchstar didn't trust her fully, perhaps the deputy was themself curious. No matter. When Snowmask addresses her directly, Adderjaw finds herself surpised -- not by the molly addressing her, she hadn't put much effort into actually hiding. No, it's her words that catch Adderjaw off guard. There's more conviction and authority to them than she would have expected, and Snowmask is hunting. Finally, something respectable. Not a half bad tactic, either; wordlessly, Adderjaw follows the other molly's lead. She watches curiously as Snowmask stalks along the fence with a careful precision. Perhaps she's not as useless as she seems, if only she could get over her cowardly hang-ups. Still not a ShadowClanner, though.

At the signal, Adderjaw is quick to move, barreling towards the bird with none of her usual subtlety, heavy paws thundering against the ground. It works perfectly: Snowmask kills the bird swiftly and effectively, a worthy catch of a much more deserving warrior than her. The crow will make a far better meal than about anything else they could find in the carrionplace. "Not bad," she says gruffly, wary eyes still watching Snowmask even after Chilledgaze reveals their presence. Perhaps she's underestimated the freshly-named warrior.​
 

Outsiders, clanmates, she wondered how much one's allegiance truly mattered when it came to trust. Her body still aching from the raid, each step was a sore reminder that even supposed friends could betray one's faith and for her own safety, she'd isolated herself somewhat from the rabble of day-to-day politics in ShadowClan. Snowmask's position was not one Ferndance would contest, how could she? Moons ago, she had been in the other's position, a rogue seeking shelter in the cruel marsh for one reason or another. Their reasons were different but the outcomes were the same, yet, the ticked tabby could never recall being watched like a hawk in her first moons. Having her own motivations for scouring the Carrionplace, the warrior soon poked her head up from a pile of rubbish as the commotion of a caught bird echoed in the stale air. Twoleg little sat atop of her head, the peel of some yellow fruit unknown to the she-cat, and as clanmates came out of the woodwork to congratulate Snowmask on her catch, Ferndance clapped the sides of her bicoloured paws together. "Oh that's lovely." She wriggled out of the mound she'd found herself in and moved closer to the three.

All sorts clung to the tabby's fur that day, the content reeking far more than any dead leaf or stray bug ever could. Even Ferndance noticed it, her nostrils permanently flared in a display of indignation against the stench of the carrionplace. She would sort herself out before she entered the Warrior's den again that day, but a groom could wait. Emerald eyes oggled at the black bird, her ruddy tongue licking at her whiskers as she wondered what it would be like to taste such a large animal. Moons had passed since anyone had gotten a good feast in ShadowClan, she was no exception, even if she tried to sneak bites into her prey here and there when she was lucky enough to find it. She heard her stomach growl in protest for ignoring the instinct to simply snatch it and run, helplessly, she blinked and offered a lazy smile to the mother. "So are you going to give it to the kits?" She asked, out of genuine curiosity as opposed to any suspicion she had of the other. Whether she was just as selfish as some of the other ShadowClanners or not didn't really matter in the end. As long as she knew where she stood, she didn't care.

​

 

Turning her pale silvery eyes to the deputy she smiles lightly. It is a tactic she learned from her former rogue mate. They had hunted birds often enough and normally the two of them were successful in the endeavor. Getting a not bad from her guard, Adderjaw seems to make her at least a little bit prideful. At least she is able to have some kind words thrown her way. Shifting her paws then she lightly prods at the bird but before she can pick it up another shows up and then questions her about what if she will give it to the kits. "Well I assume that the elders need to eat first but if someone already fed them then I can head over to the nursery with it." With a small shrug of her shoulders the woman then picks up the bird and starts to head back to camp. Afterall she is sure that if they find anything else to hunt someone else can get it.​
 
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