i'm not alone [darkstar]

In the shadows it was all too easy to fall into the quiet pitfall of deep thought. Just as they did in the mind, the darkness twisted and stretched through the undergrowth, wrapped around the leaves and branches, tugging at the long, dark furs that stretched across the leader’s back. Sharp amber eyes glinted, bouncing those few glimmering hints of moonlight through the twisted branches and leaves that scattered the ground as the pines stretched high above. The dampness of the marsh swelled in the tom’s lungs as he slowly, yet carefully picked his way through the low-hanging bushes and grass.

Then again, it was those thoughts that he sought out solitude to find. The camp, even in the depths of quiet times was still too loud. Paws scuffled, cats talked and snored. From his den he could hear them. While it was comforting on occasion, there were times when it was just a stream of interruptions to patterns and dreams that drifted through. A source of frustration to the dark-furred leader. It was those moments when only the peace of the forest would really do, a trek along the well-worn paths right toward the far corner of the territory, well away from carionplace and the other clans.

A sigh escaped Darkstar’s lips as he came to a pause, paws pressing into the old pine needles and leaves tangled in the roots below. He flicked his tail, the fur brushing one of the nearby fallen logs as he turned and peered down along the path once again. Even with that being the case, part of him felt obliged to stay there, to suffer in the quiet sounds. Onyxfeather could handle the camp without question, he wouldn’t be deputy if that was in question. However, the commitment remained. Especially when the thoughts that stung the leaders mind were old ones, of loss, absence and the question of possible regret.

He continued to hope that Thrushflight understood the decisions he’d made for the better of their clan. Their home.

Movement had the leader’s ears pricking, his nose flaring, attention turned to the undergrowth. Faintly, as he opened his jaws, the scent of vole brushed through his glands. Immediately, the tom turned on it. He lowered himself, and prowled forward, tracking the sounds, the scents, following the invisible trail with carefully placed pawsteps. He lapsed in silence in his movements. It was in moments like that others might have questioned how he remained a cat born outside the forest. Then again, many still believed he was at least half ShadowClan.

The hunt was swift, the launch, the feeling of his fangs sinking into flesh, the flood of blood up through to touch his tongue. It was a moment of success as the shadows continued to twist around him. Yet, beyond the sound of his own breath, a large exhale as the leader straightened with the creature at his paws, it was the sound of movement that had the tom peering through into the darkness. Through the low-hanging branches and the small glints of light from the moon, it wasn’t hard to make out a white pelt, standing on one of the nearby tracks. Darkstar took in the scents around him, questioning, before it registered.

Ivyfrost. He couldn’t say he knew the she-cat well, however, he recognised the scent regardless. The idea of confronting another cat in the dark wasn’t particularly appealing, he was there for silence after all. Yet...Well, if she’d hear him, an escape would have only led to questions. With another sigh, he reached down and picked up the vole, before pushing his way through the bushes, his long fur tangling in the leaves and twigs. His whiskers tugged against the tight space, his heavy form pressing against the compact weaves of sticks, before eventually, he broke through, stepping out onto the well-worn track.

Bright amber eyes scanned the she-cat briefly, before he rested the vole down at his paws, giving a dip of his head. “My apologies,” he meowed, voice quietly, smooth. “I hope my hunting hasn’t disturbed your activities.” He didn’t question, did raise alert, he just studied the she-cat for a long moment. What he did know of the she-cat was that speaking didn’t seem high on her priority list. He didn’t intend to change that when it was a trait he very much shared. The leader gave a flick of his tail instead, leaning down to pick up his vole again, and keep moving.

However, it was another noise that made the leader pause, and lift his head from the dip again, ear pricking straight. A louder noise, a little in the distance, and off the beaten track. His ears flicked back against his head briefly. “I presume we were both travelling alone?” The leader stepped past Ivyfrost, and peered into the undergrowth, tasting the air once again.

The leader knew the taste, the scent, the musk that brushed across his tongue and against his glands, twisting like smoke in his parted jaws. It left a sour taste there, etching into his tastebuds and the rough surface they made up. He snapped them shut again, ears firmly pinning against his skull. "You presumed correctly." Good, he would have hated to consider the option of one of his warriors willingly playing with the presence of a fox in the marshes. "Seems we're not alone, after all." Darkstar glanced toward the she-cat, studying the younger warriors for a long moment, before stepping forward. Nothing showed in his gaze, beyond neutral consideration. His mind reeled, ticked, churned over the opens as he slowly started edging forward. Large paws brushed the ground ever so slightly, the leader’s thick tabby coat starting to bristle ever so slightly.

His gaze sought out the undergrowth, scanning the shadows for any hints of fur, of orange or browns that could be abnormal to the dark undergrowth around them. However, finding anything would be near impossible. The leader pricked his ears again, trying to track it by sound instead. Behind him, the hint of a snarl in Ivyfrost’s throat had him glancing back, before kinking his tail over his back for a moment, before letting it go again, a silent signal to follow. Slowly, he moved forward along the track, glancing up ahead briefly, before back into the undergrowth. The rustling stopped. It knew they were there. All the more reason not to move back toward camp. He flicked a glance over his shoulder toward Ivyfrost, before continuing forward, slowly, carefully. They needed to keep moving away from the camp itself if they were going to get rid of the creature.

Darkstar’s ears swivelled toward the undergrowth as the moments stretched on. Eventually, the rustle started again, quieter, but tracking. A parallel movement to them. That was the last thing he wanted to see. The leader’s pelt bristled, as he slowly came to a pause again, his tail straight in the air to gesture the same to his companion. The rustling continued, slowly edging toward them. It stung his nose as the leader snorted out a breath, the wind slowly carrying it toward them on a continued switch of the breeze. Right at that moment, it was in their favour, however it had no doubt before been what gave them away. The tabby let out a slow, long breath, stepping away from Ivyfrost, and toward the undergrowth. The rustling had grown quieter, but the scent was closer than ever. With his ears flattened again, and long pelt bristling, the leader poked his nose forward, sniffing carefully, amber gaze scanning the shadows.

However, through the thickness of them, and the dark clump of ferns, he couldn’t see anything. Anything at all. He wrinkled his nose, and stepped back slightly, ears pricking again as a low, close growl hummed in the air. Darkstar’s head snapped back toward Ivyfrost as a sudden loud rustle to their side filled the air. He barely got his head back around before the ginger fur of the fox appeared right in front of him, lunging forward sharply.