A Shadow's Den

[The Cannibal]

[This thread is dedicated to the area in the outskirts that Hannibal has settled down in. It is currently located an hour away from Shadowclan's westernmost border, deep within the pine forest. Very few will know of this location unless Hannibal specifically mentions it to someone; those who find it by accident typically aren't alive for much longer, unless Hannibal, through his own reasoning, decides they should be able to walk away.

*Please ask me through visitor messages before posting here if there appears to already be a roleplay going on, or you want to rp with him in the future, I'd like to keep this thread strictly to rp if at all possible.*

*Keep in mind, Hannibal is a high-functioning, intelligent sociopath and a cannibal. He is a dangerous cat who has been around for a while, originally born and raised in the Dusk Syndicate. He is adept at killing cats, and he's particularly adept at manipulation. Manners are exceptionally important to him- if he deems you as rude, then you have gotten onto a deadly list that only one cat has gotten away from with their life. There is no guarantee that your character is safe with him.* ]





It was common for mist to blanket the ground of the pine forest before dawn, chilling the air and making vision obscured and faulty. The evergreen trees loomed high overhead, their boughs almost seeming to block out the very blue of the sky, coating the forest in dim light- near blackness when there was only but the moon to shed light. Twisted, gnarled roots tore up the ground, emerging and submerging like some strange, wooden snakes, ready to trip up anything that traveled too quickly through these parts. Not that there was much foot traffic through here. Loners, rogues, kittypets, they all steered clear of this dark, ominous place. The uncertainty of who or what lay beyond the mist enough to drive them away.

Rodents still riffled among the bed of pine needles on the forest floor, and scurried up trees when danger was imminent. But the birds, aside from the murders of crows, were all but silent. No songbirds to chirp here. Something kept them away. Maybe the same reasoning that kept the cats away. Lizards squirmed under roots and the occasional rocks, but there was little other prey here to be found.

Hannibal enjoyed it here. There was a natural area hollowed out beneath a tree, a dark place that smelled only of earth and faint decay. And him. This was his home. Even in the daylight, he blended in amongst the darkness here. The mists hid him well, the pine needles cushioned the sound of his already quiet paws. In this land, this territory that he didn't bother to specifically mark, he could walk along like a shadow or ghost. Few knew of this place, even fewer wandered here. It was close enough to the clans that he could travel there, collect the information he desired, and return in a days walk.

The dark grey tom wasn't one of a sedentary lifestyle and only came here to rest, perhaps drag a meal to, ponder information. He never stayed here for days on end, but he always returned. And it's where he was now.

Motes of fire that served as his eyes stared blankly at the entrance of his dark hollow beneath the tree, while his mind carefully picked over his own plans for the clans. His own experiments. There was much to do, but Hannibal had all the time in the world. So long as there were unlucky souls, Hannibal would live. He was much older than 40 moons by now, and yet he remained precisely that age. It seemed eating those of your kind had its benefits, at least for him.

[shaae_26]

Thunder was bouncing around in a field with his littermates. When they saw the mist-filed darkness, they backed up. But then his sister Raven dared him to go in. Not wanting to look weak, he did. @The Cannibal

[The Cannibal]

@Snakebite13

The fields surrounding that dim forest with just as dark a past were peaceful, and that had been relatively peaceful since the downfall of the Dusk Syndicate. It was no surprise to have loners that took up residence there or frequented the warm fields in their passing. But the older loners, they knew of the darkness that resided within those pine filled depths. Whispers of what and who still lived there made their way amongst them like a soft breeze.

It makes sense though that kits were clueless of the past, the danger. How were they supposed to know who the Dusk Syndicate was, or that they infamously kidnapped kits to raise as their own warriors, or killed in the process? And how could they possibly know of the dark tom that still remained there, lurking in the mist, unless their parents warned them.

Thunder, dared to enter the forest, a dare that would seal his fate. How was he to know that this would be the last time he'd ever see his friends again? And all in a desperate attempt to not seem weak. A shame.

And so the kit did, he wandered into the pines, the sunlight quickly becoming shaded and dimmed by the thick evergreen needles that clawed at the sky. The further he strayed from the light, the more the mist seemed to close in, the sounds around him becoming strange and muted due to the natural phenomena. It became all too easy to get turned around in the muted dark landscape. And it became all too easy to be noticed by one that frequented these terrifying woods. Thunder couldn't have possibly heard it, the approaching pawsteps. It would take a trained warrior to pick up the whispers as they graced the bed of pine needles. Before he could even react something bit hold of his scruff and hoisted him into the air, and then he was moving. Moving deeper into the mist, carried by a dark tom with eyes like fire. Not a word was spoken to him.

[shaae_26]

Originally Posted by The Cannibal

@Snakebite13

The fields surrounding that dim forest with just as dark a past were peaceful, and that had been relatively peaceful since the downfall of the Dusk Syndicate. It was no surprise to have loners that took up residence there or frequented the warm fields in their passing. But the older loners, they knew of the darkness that resided within those pine filled depths. Whispers of what and who still lived there made their way amongst them like a soft breeze.

It makes sense though that kits were clueless of the past, the danger. How were they supposed to know who the Dusk Syndicate was, or that they infamously kidnapped kits to raise as their own warriors, or killed in the process? And how could they possibly know of the dark tom that still remained there, lurking in the mist, unless their parents warned them.

Thunder, dared to enter the forest, a dare that would seal his fate. How was he to know that this would be the last time he'd ever see his friends again? And all in a desperate attempt to not seem weak. A shame.

And so the kit did, he wandered into the pines, the sunlight quickly becoming shaded and dimmed by the thick evergreen needles that clawed at the sky. The further he strayed from the light, the more the mist seemed to close in, the sounds around him becoming strange and muted due to the natural phenomena. It became all too easy to get turned around in the muted dark landscape. And it became all too easy to be noticed by one that frequented these terrifying woods. Thunder couldn't have possibly heard it, the approaching pawsteps. It would take a trained warrior to pick up the whispers as they graced the bed of pine needles. Before he could even react something bit hold of his scruff and hoisted him into the air, and then he was moving. Moving deeper into the mist, carried by a dark tom with eyes like fire. Not a word was spoken to him.

Thunder thrashed and kicked in the toms jaws. He screamed out for his siblings "Raven! Jagged!" He cried. "Help me!" He closed his eyes, trying to avoid the mist. He stopped kicking, and layed completely still in the toms jaws now. He wanted to believe it was just a dream. He wanted to wake up.
(I love your RP style btw)

[The Cannibal]

@Snakebite13 {Thank you!}

The cries of the kit echoed out hopelessly into the mist as he was carried further and further away from any chance to live a normal life again. Who knows what would happen to him, what this tom would do. Perhaps Thunder would be nothing more than a meal he was bringing back to enjoy in the comforts of his own den. Maybe there would be worse waiting for Thunder still.

Regardless, the dark grey tom continued on, his pawsteps on the ground merely whispers as he easily navigated the confusing mist covered territory, ignoring the thrashing of the kit. It would stop eventually, it always did.

Thunder closed his eyes and focused on the hope of this all being a dream, but hope was a dangerous thing, especially when what one hoped for was impossible. It was unclear the amount of time that had passed since when he was first snatched up, maybe Thunder had even begun to doze in his desperate attempt to make this all a dream, but he would be rudely awakened as he went crashing to the ground.

Hannibal dropped the kit onto the hard earthy floor of his den, and when Thunder opened his eyes he would see the imposing dark grey figure sitting before him, tail curled neatly over his paws and his eyes of fire looking down upon him. Thunder would find that he was in a very dark den, the root system of a tree above and around, and a singular entrance upwards and out into dark pine forest a few bounds behind the tom.

You would think that by now, he would say something. But no, Hannibal remained silent, he seemed to be waiting, watching, observing. A scientist with a new object to study.

[shaae_26]

Originally Posted by The Cannibal

@Snakebite13 {Thank you!}

The cries of the kit echoed out hopelessly into the mist as he was carried further and further away from any chance to live a normal life again. Who knows what would happen to him, what this tom would do. Perhaps Thunder would be nothing more than a meal he was bringing back to enjoy in the comforts of his own den. Maybe there would be worse waiting for Thunder still.

Regardless, the dark grey tom continued on, his pawsteps on the ground merely whispers as he easily navigated the confusing mist covered territory, ignoring the thrashing of the kit. It would stop eventually, it always did.

Thunder closed his eyes and focused on the hope of this all being a dream, but hope was a dangerous thing, especially when what one hoped for was impossible. It was unclear the amount of time that had passed since when he was first snatched up, maybe Thunder had even begun to doze in his desperate attempt to make this all a dream, but he would be rudely awakened as he went crashing to the ground.

Hannibal dropped the kit onto the hard earthy floor of his den, and when Thunder opened his eyes he would see the imposing dark grey figure sitting before him, tail curled neatly over his paws and his eyes of fire looking down upon him. Thunder would find that he was in a very dark den, the root system of a tree above and around, and a singular entrance upwards and out into dark pine forest a few bounds behind the tom.

You would think that by now, he would say something. But no, Hannibal remained silent, he seemed to be waiting, watching, observing. A scientist with a new object to study.

Thunder landed with a thud, and grunted. He opened his eyes, praying for him to wake in his nice soft den, but when he saw the gray tom staring at him, he tried to squeal. But nothing came out. The mist had seemed to clog his throat. Instead, he stared up with great big yellow eyes at the tom. His white pelt was muddied an slicked down to his body, showing how small & skinny the 5 moon old was.

[The Cannibal]

@Snakebite13

A small, pitiful excuse of a kit, but a kit nonetheless. Kits were beautiful, unmolded pieces of clay that you could mold to be whatever it is you desired. A perfect piece to experiment with. To see how pliable a young mind was. And to think this one didn't even so much as cry or try to run immediately. Perhaps he was already in shock, not much fight in him like he's seen some kits exhibit.

"It was rather dumb to wander off on your own now wasn't it?"

A strange first question, but few truly understood how Hannibal ticked, how he could grab so much information off of answers to questions. Sometimes the question didn't even matter, it was how the cat reacted, how they responded. He could ask anything in the world, but the verbal response, the answer given, wasn't what he was after. The first part of molding was knowing the substance that you were working with.

[shaae_26]

Originally Posted by The Cannibal

@Snakebite13

A small, pitiful excuse of a kit, but a kit nonetheless. Kits were beautiful, unmolded pieces of clay that you could mold to be whatever it is you desired. A perfect piece to experiment with. To see how pliable a young mind was. And to think this one didn't even so much as cry or try to run immediately. Perhaps he was already in shock, not much fight in him like he's seen some kits exhibit.

"It was rather dumb to wander off on your own now wasn't it?"

A strange first question, but few truly understood how Hannibal ticked, how he could grab so much information off of answers to questions. Sometimes the question didn't even matter, it was how the cat reacted, how they responded. He could ask anything in the world, but the verbal response, the answer given, wasn't what he was after. The first part of molding was knowing the substance that you were working with.

When the cat finally talked, Thunder drew up the nerve to talk to him. "Who-who are you? And where am I?" He whimpered.

[The Cannibal]

@Snakebite13

To answer a question with two more, two questions that cats would probably find important, but truthfully what would their answers give? What would it matter if you knew who your captor was, and what would it matter if you knew what the location was named? Maybe it would be more useful to a cat who had a chance of recognizing the name or location, but for a kit? The answers would mean nothing.

The fiery gaze of the dark tom remained fixated on Thunder, the very tip of his tail flicking lightly though it was unclear what this motion meant.
"My name is unimportant right now, and you are currently in my den far from where anyone can find you. Who are you, and where are you from?"
The questions that the kit asked were reflected right back at him.
As for the voice of the tom, it was incredibly neutral. There was no anger, malice or ill-intent to be noted in the tone, nor was there glee, satisfaction or happiness. It wasn't monotone nor overly exaggerated. It was a completely neutral conversational tone.

[shaae_26]

Originally Posted by The Cannibal

@Snakebite13

To answer a question with two more, two questions that cats would probably find important, but truthfully what would their answers give? What would it matter if you knew who your captor was, and what would it matter if you knew what the location was named? Maybe it would be more useful to a cat who had a chance of recognizing the name or location, but for a kit? The answers would mean nothing.

The fiery gaze of the dark tom remained fixated on Thunder, the very tip of his tail flicking lightly though it was unclear what this motion meant.
"My name is unimportant right now, and you are currently in my den far from where anyone can find you. Who are you, and where are you from?"
The questions that the kit asked were reflected right back at him.
As for the voice of the tom, it was incredibly neutral. There was no anger, malice or ill-intent to be noted in the tone, nor was there glee, satisfaction or happiness. It wasn't monotone nor overly exaggerated. It was a completely neutral conversational tone.

"I'm, Th-Thunder and i'm from a m-meadow called Butterfly Meadow." Thunder mewed. He tried to look brave & tough by puffing his fur and shaking off the mud, revealing the thunderbolt scar down his back from the fox that tried to kill him and his family when he was born.