private only awaited | spider

[BUTCHERMAW]

✦ Somehow, life was both more and less boring now that Butcher was sort of a Skyclanner. A sunshine fighter? Daybreak soldier? No - she nodded to herself, minutely, pleased with remembering something so important. Daylight warrior. The time she spent away from home and working among the very real Skyclanners was exciting, even if she tried to play it cool, but exhausting. There was so much walking. Patrolling. Whatever. And sparring hurt, which, y'know, she probably should have seen coming, but the reality of someone repeatedly swiping at her was a lot more solid than the idea of becoming a skilled fighter. At least the hunting was fun. Generally, it made her days exciting, which should also mean less boring.

But the red and white cat didn't had limited time-funds to spend at Skyclan. Someone still had to represent her human's butcher shop, and someone had to let the alley critters know when the scraps of meat and viscera were hot to go, and someone might as well be Butcher. She was good at it. Being at home was more boring now that should could contrast it against, well, literally anything else. It was just... frustrating, to know that she could do more, and that frustration balanced precariously on the scale when weighed against the exhilaration of practicing to be a clan cat.

"Hey! Dinner's up!" she called into the alleyway, each divet and chip in the pavement exaggerated by the hard glow of streetlights. Moments later her human walked out behind Butcher, tub in hands, and splashed the gore on the sidewalk. Butcher peered at the contents - it looked decent tonight, actually, plenty of meat alongside the fat trimmings and blood - before looking up to see which of her regulars and irregulars would show up tonight.​

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[SPIDER]

Spider's entrance is almost theatrical, her dark form a blur of motion as she swoops down with the precision of a predator. With a swift movement, she snatches one of the largest pieces of meat from the pile, her jaws clamping down on it before any of the other beings nearby can react. The meat dangles from her teeth as she slinks away from the commotion, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. Spider's steps are careful, purposeful, as she maneuvers through the shadows of the alleyway, her destination clear. She makes her way over to Butcher, a familiar figure in this chaotic world, and settles down beside her with a certain ease, as if they had done this many times before.

Spider drops her prize at Butcher's paws, the heavy scent of fresh blood lingering in the air between them. She pauses, her tongue flicking out to clean the blood from her lips, but she doesn't bother with her paws, knowing it would be a futile effort in this grimy environment. The alleyway is no place for cleanliness, especially this alleyway, and Spider is well aware of it. Her fur, dark and sleek, blends into the shadows, but the red staining her paws is stark against it, a reminder of the life she leads. Her tail brushes lightly against Butcher's side, a silent greeting to the pretty feline as she speaks to her.

"Good haul today, isn't it?" she purrs, her voice a soft rumble that betrays her satisfaction. There's a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she nudges the meat closer to Butcher with a bloodstained paw, the gesture both an offer and a question. Spider's gaze is steady, waiting for Butcher's response, her curiosity evident. The thrill of managing to claim first pickings still lingers in her, but there's something else in the way she shares her prize—a sense of camaraderie, a willingness to share the spoils of her labor.​

 

[BUTCHERMAW]

✦ While the other creatures in the alley seemed to creep forward at the call, like they were trying to sneak up on the starting line, Butcher's attention was instantly drawn to the one who surged forward like a starting gun had fired right at her back paws. There was one regular she could check off the mental attendance sheet; Spider wasn't here for every gore dump, but she had a magnetic way of turning the meager offerings into a full blown dinner and a show. She had no idea if it would be hard to look away. She'd never exactly tried.

Butcher couldn't remember how many times Spider had actually set next to her, if they'd ever sat so close, or if she'd just imagined it in some sunbeam daydreams. The wet slap of the meat hitting the pavement - a good chunk, too - sprays blood onto her red splattered paws, fur and iron mingling like party guests, probably, but Butcher wasn't paying it much mind. Far more interesting was the tail against her side, like the shadows had come to say hello but way more real because it was this blue-eyed feline instead. Butcher's tail twitched behind her, the idea of reciprocity quickly abandoned. She didn't want to seem, like, clingy, or whatever.

"It's not bad," she agreed, chest puffing out like she has any claim to Spider's satisfaction. Her stare is intense and unwavering when Butcher meets it, and it was still waiting for her when she glanced back up from the meat at her paws. Carefully, she sliced off a small corner of the hunk with a claw for herself, only to hesitate and offer it up to Spider instead. Butcher had food aplenty waiting for her inside, and this felt like as good reciprocity as any for that brush against her side. Whether or not Spider takes the offer, the shop cat asked, "Anything interesting planned for tonight?" It was a fairly standard question to ask a customer, only Butcher was actually interested in this customer's answer.​

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[SPIDER]

Spider's eyes drift over to the alleyway, where the other cats and assorted critters are taking their share of the meat and other viscera, some shredding it, some eating normally, some simply lapping up the blood. Spider, though, has her own reason for being her, and despite swooping in to grab the largest chunk of meat, it isn't hunger that drives her—it's the thrill, the way the atmosphere crackles with tension whenever she's around, like a storm waiting to break. And it seems she's drawn Butcher into her orbit again, not that the crimson-hued feline ever strays too far from it, when Spider has her way.

She notices Butcher's tail twitch in response to her own subtle touch, and a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. Butch, always trying to play it cool, but Spider knows the effect she has on her. It's almost too easy, but then again, that's why these visits are so fun to her. Her gaze flicks from Butcher's offered morsel to her eyes, holding the other cat's stare with an intensity that is both teasing and calculating. She leans in slightly, letting her whiskers brush against Butcher's as she accepts the piece with a slow, deliberate movement, savoring the taste and the moment.

"Not bad at all," she murmurs, her voice a low purr that hints at more than just approval of the meat. Her tail curls slightly as she takes a step back, the tip flicking with amusement as she considers Butcher's question. Interesting plans? With Spider, that was a given. "I've got a few things in mind," she replies, her tone nonchalant, but the glint in her eyes betrays the mischief brewing in her thoughts. "Might pay a visit to some old friends—keep them on their toes. You know how it is." She punctuated the statement with a playful swish of her tail, making sure to once more let her tail brush against Butcher, a faint touch on her shoulder. Leaning in closer, she adds, almost conspiratorially, "Or maybe I'll stick around here. See if anything entertaining happens." Spider's gaze doesn't leave Butcher's, challenging her to keep up with whatever she's planning—or maybe even join in.

There is always a game to be played, and Spider loves playing it.​

 

[BUTCHERMAW]

✦ If it weren't for all the evidence to the contrary - the sounds of an alleyway feast underway being chief among them, with scurrying paws and chewing mouths and defensive hisses all chiming in - Butcher would swear that the world goes perfectly still for a moment. At the very least, it narrows to the pale, elegant face in front of hers, pristine white framed by the darkest black, the whiskers brushing hers, the iron-tinged air they share. Her eyes are bright and intense, but do Spider's eyes hood at the last moment? Butcher couldn't say. Her own gaze drifted to the other woman's fangs, predominant even for a predator, and she watched as those fangs made short work of the meat she had been offered. Butcher licked the blood from her teeth.

The red and white cat looked up when her friend stepped back, worried for a moment that her cover had been blown. Not that there was a cover to blow, of course. Friends helped friends all the time. Sometimes that meant making sure they had a good meal. Sometimes that involved carefully carving meat into bite-sized pieces and offering it up for the other to take from your own slackened maw. It was just as well that Spider didn't comment on it (sides saying not bad at all about the meat - Butcher's ears warmed) because one of them would have looked quite silly debating whether or not it was a friendly gesture. Possibly Butcher.

Spider answered her questions, and that set them back on even footing - or, if not even footing, at least into an almost familiar dance. "You have friends?" She teased, her voice lilting upwards at yet another unexpected brush against her pelt. Whether it was the touch or Spider's own lean, Butcher was drawn forward, head tilting to match the pseudo-secrecy of the exchange. Not at the expense of breaking eye contact, though. "Spider, the only way something interesting happens is if you stay. I hear the locals are pretty boring by themselves," A jab at herself seemed only fair. "All curfews and bedtimes."​

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[SPIDER]

Spider revels in the way the world seems to contract around them, her sharp blue gaze locked onto Butcher's face. The alley, with all its noise—claws scraping against stone, the shuffle of paws, the occasional hiss as cats jostled for food—is a distant backdrop to this moment. The thrill of their proximity hums in her chest, and she is keenly aware of how Butcher's attention follows her every move. It's intoxicating. "Oh, I have plenty of friends," she murmurs, her voice rich with amusement, as though Butcher's playful jab has simply rolled off her like water off a duck's back. Spider's smirk deepens as she lets the weight of her words linger, her tone laced with... something. Her tail, long and agile, brushes languidly against Butcher's side, the touch light, yet deliberate—testing, teasing.

"Though, you're right," she adds after a moment, her voice dropping into a soft, conspiratorial tone. "Most of them are dreadfully dull. Stuck in their little lives of rules and routines." Her words are coated in mock pity, but her eyes sparkle with mischief. She thrives in this role, the orchestrator of chaos, the one who can turn even the quietest night into something worth remembering. Butcher's subtle tells—the blood licked from her teeth, the faint warmth Spider could almost feel radiating from her ears—does not go unnoticed. Spider is nothing if not observant, and she enjoys the way Butcher tries to play it cool, like this is all just a silly little game. And maybe it is, but Spider has a way of playing it that leaves her always a step ahead, or so she likes to think.

Leaning in closer, she lets her breath ghost against Butcher's ear, the warmth of it mingling with the iron-tinged scent of blood that still clings to the air. Her whisper is soft but deliberate, each word punctuated with the promise of something far more thrilling than a meal in an alleyway. "Good thing I'm here, then," Spider purrs, her voice low, smooth, almost too soft for anyone else to hear. The words carry with them the weight of a challenge, as though she's daring Butcher to let the night pass without something memorable. "I wouldn't want tonight to be just another one of those dull, curfew-filled evenings, for you or for me."

Her lips curve into a smile, slow and predatory, as she pulls back just enough to meet Butcher's gaze again, watching the other cat's reaction with keen interest. The alley feels like it has drawn tighter around them, as though they are the only two cats remaining in the alleyway despite the still-present clamor of those who are feeding on the viscera not far from the two. Spider's eyes are sharp, gleaming with the same edge of wildness that she carries wherever she goes. The taste of the meat Butcher had offered her still lingers on her tongue, a reminder of the exchange between them. "And you know," she muses, her voice thoughtful, but still dripping with mischief, "if the locals are that boring, maybe we should show them how to liven things up." She flicks her paw dismissively, scattering a few drops of blood and dirt on the ground, like it's nothing more than an afterthought to the conversation. And true to form, it isn't the mess on the ground that has her attention—it's Butcher, the way she's drawn in, as if Spider has wrapped invisible threads around her and pulled her closer.

Her gaze never wavers from Butcher's, that predatory smile still playing at the corners of her lips. Spider knows she has her, and she relishes the control, the subtle power of their dynamic. Even Butcher's teasing about locals and curfews can't disguise the tension simmering beneath their banter. Spider can feel it in the air, thick and heavy. With a final flick of her tail against the other feline's shoulder, she leans just a little closer again, her nose almost brushing Butcher's, her eyes bright with anticipation. "You in?" she asks, the words barely more than a breath between them, but they hold the weight of an invitation to something dangerous, something unpredictable—something only Spider can offer her.​