DISTURBING THE PEACE | sharpeye

[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing hated to admit it, but he was familiar with the Twolegplace. More than he should be. The Skyclan warrior had been here many times before, slipping between the soft cracks of nightly curtains like the the gentle breeze massaged within fur and whisker. Despite the acerbic words that had taken roost in his lips, he held an airy, gracile elegance to him, as though a bird cursed with a serpentine tongue. Still, a great, heaving temper belie the wispy pelt and the exotic heterochromatic eyes. It was a wonder how he had never gotten caught by the fickle-minded hand of a Twoleg, but the cat took care to evade even the slightest scent that stank of synthetic... whatever it was. He didn't have his colorful vocabulary to help him describe what was purely unknown and unfathomable.

The same acrid stench he was so familiar with shadowed the rough-pelted Thunderpath. Chrys' keen nose could sense that pervasive trail of scent on every kittypet he came across, no matter how hard they attempted to scrub it out like it were lice jumping and hopping through their hair. It rounded them out, almost, and nestled in between ungraceful breaths and unrefined words. It was the varnish to the rough wood, in a sense. He quietly padded alongside it, as if he trembled along the drawn lines of a tar-and-oil streambank. He always wondered what the Thunderpathw as even made of - it was too hard to be the pebbles of a river and too rough to be the face of a boulder.

Rushing monsters whose roars rattled within a resonant ribcage ran past him. Despite being apex predators, capable of crushing the brittle, birdlike bones of the feeble feline, their gaze never hounded his own. Almost afraid to match the stare of he who walked below - though Chrys could never sense any fear in the shiny-coated creatures. They were a mystery, just like the rest of the Twolegplace. As he swiftly crossed the Thunderpath, he ran into an outstretched path. The Twoleg nests seemed to scrutinize every twitch of his whiskers, as though they were the Argus-eyed owls that flitted through the forest, with smoldering-coal walleyes. Observant yet unwilling to participate, cowards in their own self-righteousness. Still, he ignored the prickles of unease that rippled through his pelt and continued on through the concrete jungle.

He once tried the odd dropping-like pellets that the kittypets often ate - it was a while ago, and he had been searching for something else, but curiosity had gotten the better of the cold-hearted warrior. It wasn't bad, per se. The chimaera-coated cat would never admit to it, but he didn't despise the taste of what he conceived to be the symbol of absolute gluttony and pure pusillanimity. He rolled it about his tongue then, and it gave him mere hints of meat - not like festering crowfood, but rather the ghost of a rat or a bird had come to haunt the meal. It was weird, and he wouldn't do it again. The tom passed by a food bowl this time, resting patiently and expectantly upon the maw of the Twoleg nest.

The man hadn't a clue why his paws resigned him to wander the labyrinthine alleyways of the winding city,. He felt like he was searching for something, but what was it? He had come last time to seek his friend Honeysplash, but she was back at Skyclan now. Could it have been curiosity, that slippery and eager infection, that had come to lacerate him once more? The tom had never been one to act upon his wanderlust. He had been lost in his own thoughts until a low growl cut through his daze, like it were the undertones of a rumbling waterfall's ever-constant babblings, though it sounded more like an irate tempest that dared uproot his musings.

A large dog stepped out in front of the tom, almost calmly as if it anticipated his arrival, though the way inglorious eyes glimmered with the thrill of the hunt told otherwise of any patience or humility that the hound may have bore. Immediately, Chrysaliswing's heart sunk to the tips of his toes, and his heartbeat grew louder and louder like a drumming start. One, t - Two seconds had not the grace to pass as he made a run for it. Paws skittered against the smooth floor. Hawkish eyes raced about and darted to each thing in the alleys, looking for something to climb onto. Dogs can't climb, can they? And yet, he couldn't find any escape in the pine trees of his home. After all, this was not his home. In the blink of an eye, Chrysaliswing slithered between the long shadows of two strange, silver tree trunks. They covered his form well enough, though great, adamantine jaws still salivated and snarled at his doorstep.

I need to get this slobbering mutt out of here... Distraction, distraction, distraction... His nerves threatened to burst with each eternity spent in a second, as the hound circled around him and snapped hungrily. Is this how I die? In the jaws of a hungry dog? Damn it, this is not how I wanted to go. Make it quick, if you have to...

@Sharpeye​

 

[Sharpeye]

☁ Life just continued to find new ways to test him, it seemed. The injuries that he had received after straying into ShadowClan's territory continued to pulse with misery as the healing process dragged out slowly over the course of the past few weeks. During that time he had been unable to hunt and he was beginning to look increasingly more frail. Only recently had he begun to stray from the small haven gifted to him by Gale many moons ago. The need for food and clean water urged him to wander the streets and alleyways, pushing him further out from his usual haunts.

A huff escaped him as yet another bird evaded his grasp, leaving him alone on the wall to feel another pang of frustration and hunger. Though he wasn't granted the opportunity to wallow in the feelings as the distinctive noise of a dog chasing something caught his attention. Even as he remained perched up high he still felt the wave of fear all the same. His single good eye searched the ground below, especially as the commotion drew ever closer. Then he spied it; a feline. Something felt eerily familiar about the pelt pattern, but he didn't have the opportunity to truly think about it. At that moment it seemed more like that he would witness a killing.

"This soft heart of yours is gonna get you killed." Sharpeye shook his head in dismay as he made his choice. Living up to the name given to him from his former SkyClan days his keen sight helped him to home in on a potted plant. He raced along the wall towards it and with a shove he pushed the plant over and sent it crashing down near the dog. It would miss, but the resulting clatter would be hard to ignore. That's when Sharpeye made his move as he propelled himself down from the wall. "Run! There isn't much time!" He barked as he looked at Chrysaliswing, hopeful that the younger cat would follow him towards a safer destination.
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[CHRYSALISWING]

The crash of something shook the very foundations of fear that had taken root, an earthquake rending his night and day, a silver scry through a nightmare's miasma. Still, Chrysaliswing cowered, with his belly scuffing the concrete as though he dragged its dead weight forwards, though this time he stood still. A strange nest, though nothing like the deftly-woven twig and twine that perched gentle upon boughs and billows. This thing fell ungraciously, like a baby bird splattering to the ground after a terrible fall. The sound, like cracking bones that screed their demise, did not help. Nevertheless, it did what he wanted: distract that damn dog, if only for a heartbeat.

Mismatched gaze caught upon a somewhat familiar cat, propelling down the Twoleg walls to distract the dog. Is that...? He recognized him - Sharpeye. If his memory served him correctly, he was Honeysplash's old mentor before his departure from the clan. But why is he here? What reason would the ex-Skyclanner have to save him, especially after deserting his home? If the situation were not so terribly dire, Chrys would have many choice words to say to the expatriate. Still, he knew now was hardly an appropriate time. Chrysaliswing quickly scrambled out of his hiding spot to follow Sharpeye, unsheathed claws skittering against the concrete like harsh, dissonant rain.

However, the dog had focused its attention to the both of them now. A moment in time passed, in which the uncertainty of fate had rocked and churned between afts and sterns, in which the dog's eyes glowed with an inhumanity that could not be discerned. And now, it gave chase. Being much taller and long-legged than the felines, there was only a hare's breath before they would both be food for the hounds. The chimaera-coated tomcat did not want that to be his end. "We gotta find a safe place to climb - you know any good places for that, kittypet?" The words just flew out of his mouth, without much consideration of whether Sharpeye was a kittypet or not. He didn't know what had transpired since the man had showed his face to anyone he knew. To Chrys, 'kittypet' represented more of an archetypical argument, the antithesis of what he believed to be a rightful and Starclan-sent path. The outsiders were slothful and avaricious - and yet, one had saved him now.​

 

[Sharpeye]

☁ Outrunning a dog would be impossible, especially for him. Though despite the grim odds he refused to just give up. This land of hard stone that rose high into the sky like the trees he had once known had become his home, his refuge. Of course he knew where to go in order to evade death for another day. So when the question laced with the desperation of their situation reached his ear he looked left and then right as he calculated their best course of action. A few features of their surroundings stood out to him and jogged his memory.

"Take a hard left! There's a wall made of wood that you can climb!" Sharpeye barked the instruction before he thrust his small, battered form round the aforementioned corner that took them into a new alleyway, one that backed onto small narrow gardens. Not exactly great for hunting but a viable option when escaping a dog, provided that you don't go landing on another mutt.

Like a coiled spring being released he kicked out with his hind legs in order to get some air as he launched himself up the wall, digging his claws deep into the softer surface as he ascended high and away from the jaws that longed to devour them both. He just hoped that the younger tom would manage to keep up. He didn't want to see another cat die, nor did he want to miss the opportunity to correct the other cat. Kittypet?! Seriously?
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[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing duly followed behind Sharpeye as the warrior allowed the outsider to take the helm, with any predilections thrown from him as carelessly as discarding a stray string of moss or a twee thread of nest-material. In normal circumstances, arrogance would never allow for him to take orders from a kittypet, let alone a man who had abandoned his clan for his ideals. Dereliction never oft crossed the mind of the hard-working warrior, though that could be attributed moreso to the simplicity of his own sorrows. He was never much of a romanticist, existing more of an anomie than Sharpeye who stood his ground for what he believed in. It was more than Chrys could say of himself, as much as he would never admit it aloud.

Agile limbs sprang upwards as claws hung onto the wooden wall, sharp thorns attempting to find their hold and almost slipping all the while. Panic streaked through him like smoke strewn upon the somber sky, a sort of warning of the worst that could have happened. He exhaled hot breath for a few seconds, realizing he had not died in the last few heartbeats and collected the parts of himself that had not been scared shitless by whatever happened just now. Despite it all, what lie below thistle-sharp nails seemed almost too familiar... Like the pine trees of his home, a strange reminder that did not belong in such an alien landscape such as this.

The Skyclanner scrambled upwards with the canine's unavailed howls ringing behind them. Ears folded back as though aiming to drive out with a blusterous bell, though as if the thunderous acclaim of the storm, it was much too loud and much too august to drown out. And yet, it could not reach them. Despite its fangs and its guffaws, it lie earth-bound and destitute in its place. Take that, you stupid fuckin' mutt. "H-How long does it take for a dog to leave us alone?" He mewed, still catching the breath that hitched in velvet throat.
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[Sharpeye]

☁ There was a wave of relief as he turned and saw that neither of them had succumbed to the gnashing fangs below. Though he didn't allow himself to relax quite yet, he would still prefer to find a safer roost in which to talk without fear of slipping, or worse still finding himself being pushed. "It can depend on the dog. Come, let's find somewhere less precarious than this in which to recover and talk. And don't call me a kittypet, I belong to no twoleg."

With a flick of his tail to beckoned the younger tom to follow his lead as he prowled along the top of the fencing with a well-honed balance that had come from his adaption to the man-made environment. He soon reached a structure further down, which happened to be a shed with a sturdy roof that offered an excellent refuge from the terrors of dogs and twolegs. Sharpeye stepped onto it with a silent sigh before he sat himself down. At long last he was finally able to look at the cat he had saved and a flicker of recognition gleamed in his one good eye. "Wait... I know you. Chrysalispaw, right? Why are you out here in twolegplace?" He supposed that it wasn't entirely uncommon to find SkyClanners, especially daylight warriors, but even still.
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[CHRYSALISWING]

Heart still felt as though it were going to spill out of his too-small chest cavity, as if it had turned to pure, broiling liquid after the terrible scare that he had just been through. As though the hound smelled the fear rolling from his back in seaward smoothness, large stature stood rooted and unwavering. Shivers ran down his spine, riveting through long fur like an electric breeze, static through what could have been and what was not. Imagining himself caught between the snares of the dog's jaws... It was too terrifying to bear. He shook his head, as if he were willing such bad miasma of thoughts to be shed from his memory. He would not be crowfood, not today.

Deft paws swiftly followed Sharpeye along the top of the fence. It was unlike any sort of tree that he had ever climbed - these ones seemed too straightened, too narrow, too fragile. Still, underfoot was the unmistakable grit of wood, as though a sliver of his great home had found him here in this desolate, foreign wasteland. Watching his step, he tailed Sharpeye like a long shadow, balancing and never quite teetering off the edge. It was a good thing he had some experience hanging from the boughs of pines, though that did little to quell the drumming beneath his chest.

"Chrysaliswing now, actually." Any trace of scorn for the expatriate seemed to dissipate in the calm after the storm. After all, Sharpeye just saved his life. Chrysaliswing was a bitter, derisive man, but he knew how to read a room when he needed to. Whiskers twitched as the bays of the dog grew quieter and quieter until it died, with its grave the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world. Perhaps it had given up and turned tail, or had been too stupid to know how to follow the cats once they had ran out of its reach. Either way, it was a grace that Chrys desperately needed.

"About the Twolegplace, I was just looking for something. That's all." Unwilling to elaborate much further, he turned the conversation towards a burning, molten curiosity. "Why did you save me? You left Skyclan. You could've just let me die and go about your day."​

 

[Sharpeye]

☁ "I suppose I should congratulate you on earning your warrior name." Sharpeye couldn't hide the slight curl at the edge of his maw as a smile threatened to creep through. Life had continued on of course in his absence, and it led him to ponder over what had become of Bananapaw. By now his former apprentice would have become a warrior, she would be sporting her new name. The temptation to ask the SkyClanner before him danced tantalisingly upon his tongue, but he felt that perhaps he was overstepping what he was owed.

He received a fairly uninformative answer regarding as to why Chrysaliswing was wandering twolegplace and he supposed it wasn't really his business either, so he didn't push for further answers. Though what the younger tom said next had him looking rather confused. "Letting another cat die or suffer just isn't my sort of thing, it's one of the reasons as to why I ended up here. I left SkyClan because I had wanted to aid RiverClan, a clan who had once saved us from WindClan. And these days I busy myself trying to help other cats who need help here in twolegplace, much like yourself on this particular day." To some it might have seemed like a noble lifestyle, but in truth it just made everything a hazard for him. He bore many old injuries these days, his beliefs had cost him the sight in one eye and one of his ears, and he still walked with a slight limp from his former SkyClanner days. On top of that he was thin because of spending the past moon giving away what little food he had to a queen in need.

"I'm a deserter to SkyClan, I accept that and I don't seek forgiveness for my actions. But I still refuse to sit on my paws when others are in need." The ageing tom was determined to drum the reality home to any who would listen. He blinked slowly as he gathered his thoughts before he opened his mouth to speak again. "Do you need help finding your way back to SkyClan's border? That dog will be prowling the area for a while so it would be best to use the den tops for the time being. I know a few safe routes... if you want anymore of my help, that is?"
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[CHRYSALISWING]

"Oh. Uh, thanks." Chrysaliswing's name had been nothing special to him. Blazestar's mighty words rang unto him as a bell would, all-consuming and loud and pivotal, but Chrys struggled to place any true sentiment to the day. After all, why would he find a ceremony in which neither his father nor his mentor bothered to show up a notable one? Starclan honors my honesty and intelligence, my ass. For such a gracile ending as 'wing', he found no predilection to his new name. He had rolled it along a harsh-toned tongue, said it in whisper and verse and peal alike. It was his, and yet it stood as though it simply remained by him rather than him truly owning it.

If Sharpeye were not a deserter and expatriate to Skyclan, Chrysaliswing would have been inclined to comment more on his apparent altruism. "It's nice of you to do that. Especially if cats don't pay you back. I'm sure you feel it's a thankless job." The cinder-and-incendiary coated tomcat noted, as if it were a mere observation that he quickly wove from the facts that lie in front of him, as tactless as it always was. To pay one's deeds was a good test of a true warrior, of a feline who put honor and loyalty above his own misgivings and penchants. But the Skyclan warrior couldn't imagine just... going out and saving cats for the supposed thrill and satisfaction it granted. It was too much of a pyrrhic thing to truly seek, at least for a cat harboring so little patience.

"Yeah, I'd like the way back to Skyclan now. It's not like I'm looking to spend any more time in this dump than I have to." That familiar drawl, adorned in ripples of scorn, had returned as though a lost leaf had finally found its tree. Characteristic to his reputation, his face soured from the abraded softness that briefly sang plangent upon his countenance. He just wanted to get out of here now, preferably without the man who abandoned his own home for an imaginary ideal. Still, a gratefulness welled up in a hollow heart embittered by his own roiling ire.
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[Sharpeye]

☁ A gruff chuckle escaped the tom as a small smirk found its way onto his lips. After rising to his paws once more he proceeded to cross the roof of the shed in the direction of the fencing. With steady footing he picked his way along the entire stretch until it met the stone wall of a twoleg den. It seemed like an impossible climb to the untrained eye, but Sharpeye had adapted to such environments and he knew that it could be ascended. "We'll climb up high, then it should be a straightforward walk with a few leaps."

After backing up a few paces he then sprinted forward before running up the wall under the help of momentum to get him started. His claws found the thin edges of the brickwork and it gave him just enough surface to work with in order to climb his way up towards the edge of the rooftop. Though his challenges hardly ceased once he reached the top as his paws met the smooth slate tiles of the den's roof. Immediately he retracted his claws as he set his paws upon the mildly slippery surface, and once he was sure that he wasn't going to slide anywhere he leaned back over the edge to check on Chrysaliswing. "Watch your step up here, avoid using your claws."
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[CHRYSALISWING]

Sharpeye knew the Twolegplace as the ivy tendril knew the walls, so Chrysaliswing found no choice but to follow the outsider. The roof of the den seemed to creak and rumble underneath their feet, but Chrys paid no mind to it. It was unusual for the ground to weep and willow like a shaking bough, as it was meant to be the baseline of which everything was built from. And now, he had to jump, too? Heterochromatic gaze followed the other, though he had done this before, except between the branches of prideful pines instead of flat, emaciated-looking Twoleg den tops. The chimaeric tomcat followed the other's lead somewhat neatly, springing forwards and catching his claws on the smooth tiles, and it was unlike any sort of treebark he had ever encountered. His claws skittered as though they caught upon whetstone-whittled blade, though he managed to pull himself up. His training in climbing had served him well for this very occasion, not that he could have foreseen it. Perhaps he could have been a rambler or a nomad in another life, but the Skyclan warrior did not have it in him to traverse the dangers of the concrete jungle. He just wanted to get to his warm nest in the warrior's den.

"Thanks." Chrys mewed, and weariness had taken so much hold upon his throat that his words were no longer minced with anger. They came out in solitary strings rather than beams or rays. He was merely exhausted, like the worn frost upon an untouched windowsill, or dust collecting at the ends of a bookshelf. It was almost ancient, though he would have been dramatic to suggest it. His bones, young and sprightly as they were, told him that he would be taking a long, long sleep after this debacle. He could almost envision it now... Swift paws trailed along the thawing ice, the hoar giving way to original color, though dulled and dormant throughout leafbare's indefatigable rage. Newleaf would be coming soon, and perhaps the roofs would not be as slippery as they were now. "How do you know everything here, anyhow? Have you just memorized it off the top of your head?" He tilted his head. Everything smelled the same here, so was it just a matter of good vision and greater memory?​

 

[Sharpeye]

☁ "I've spent a long number of moons here, so I've begun to map out the various routes. Though I had help when I first came here. It turns out other kind cats live here, and if it hadn't been for them I fear that I would have died in the first few days." Sharpeye owed Gale, Yew and Lavender so much. Wherever they had ended up he hoped that they were doing okay.

As he reached the end of the row of homes he slowed to a stop as he assessed the next route to take. Though from the perch on the edge of the roof he could finally see the forest just beyond the final stretch of twoleg dens and their gardens. With newleaf on the horizon it seemed as though the forest had adopted a gentle glow with the arrival of new life. Closing his eye he reflected back on the scents that the season brought, and after savouring the warm memories for a moment he finally looked back at Chrysaliswing. "It won't be long until SkyClan is blessed with a heaving freshkill pile again. Or at least I hope it will be."

Bunching his legs up tight he then sprang downwards onto a garage roof before descending further to a fence, and then to the quiet stretch of pavement below. "We have a few thunderpaths to cross, sorry. Stick close and we'll be fine." The sandy coloured tom stopped at the edge where the grey concrete met the black tarmac below, and after a monster zoomed past he shot forward to the other side. He briefly paused to check back on his current ward, and once content that he could continue forward he then hurried to ascend the high fencing that crisscrossed the stretch of dens. Now they were onto the easy part. "Not far now."
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