Flickering Chance in the Shade {P}

[Starphobia]

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Flickerflame
Heavily scarred fiery orange tabby tom with deep blue eyes and white paws; half blind
He/Him | 40 Moons at Death | Dark Forest [Formerly WindClan] | Apathetic

Purrks:
Nightmare Fuel T1
. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.
Goldenberry would be the last cat to disappoint him. He was sure of it. Flickerflame grinned. Something about this apprentice... He knew from the start something was special about her. He watched from a distance as the black-furred apprentice fought another cat. Rather fiercely. A good fighter was always a good sign.
Then, she wasn't fighting anymore. She had won. Why didn't she look satisfied? She had won the fight. Killed the cat. And yet she stood there, frozen and numb. Flickerflame frowned, emerging from the darkness and stalking over, heavy paws making dents in the ground. He spared a quick glance at the faux body before the apprentice, before stomping a paw, quickly dissipating it. Foolish. Foolish, young cats.

"That," he spat, his single ocean-blue eyed gaze piercing into the black-furred apprentice's own amber hues. "Is nothing of importance." He flexed his claws, as if preparing the tear the she-cat apart himself for looking so weak in a dream. A dream! "You've won. You've proven you are better than that weakling. And yet you do not show triumpth. Simply ridiculous." Flickerflame stood tall, lashing his tail, at the exact spot where the she-cat's opponent had fallen.

{ @snowflake. }
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[snowflake.]

Shadepaw
Pure black pelt; dark mackerel markings; amber eyes
She/her || 7 moons || ShadowClan Apprentice
Agatha Kitty - Silver Tongue [T2] - Shadow Fiend
Mentor: Shrewstep • Post Count: /100 • Profile • Bio

Claws slashed. Blood splattered. Shadepaw's eyes narrowed in cold concentration. She whirled, dodging an attack, before reaching out to slice her opponent's flank. Nothing existed except this battle. The dark shape of the cat hissed, clawing, but she was too fast. She was strong. She was everything Clovepool wanted her to be and more. She would succeed. She would always succeed. The rush of battle was intoxicating. Her movements were fluid and graceful. Nothing existed except this battle. She could feel her muscles bunching and springing, dodging and hitting at the exact right moments (this was her dream, after all). She took satisfaction in the way her claws raked through her opponents fur, how blood dripped down into the ground. She was winning. She was always winning. Then, a final rush, a final blow, and the shadowy cat fell to the ground, blood spooling everywhere. The shadows seemed to seep from her opponent's fur... Revealing white fur with gray and orange spots and stripes. She froze, staring down at the lifeless body. Blood dripped from her claws. Her burning eyes turned blank, like stone. Silentpaw? The single thought echoed in her mind, quickly swallowed by the darkness surrounding her. She didn't move. She didn't think. She just stared down... At Silentpaw. Had she really done that?...

Pawsteps sounded in her ears, though her brain didn't register them. Her eyes widened as Silentpaw's body suddenly dissipated, and the fog that had settled over her brain cleared. She looked up at a scarred orange tom. She'd never seen him before, and he didn't smell of the clans. Her eyes narrowed, their intense burning returning, instantly on the alert. She didn't waver while the orange cat spoke. His words were true. She was... Better. Better than Silentpaw. He was a weakling. No wonder he'd always avoided her... And Clovepool. It finally made sense. Her gaze swept over the tom, calculating and judging him. He's been in many fights, and survived, she could tell from all the scars. She did not know whether she could take him on, though she was sure she could find a way... She did not know where the cat had come from, either. He only smelled faintly of mold and clinging darkness. "Maybe I don't need to show triumph," she replied smoothly. "Maybe other cats would consider it... A weakness." Even though she didn't know the cat, that didn't mean she couldn't... talk. She'd just have to be careful. He seemed... Formidable. Why he was here, in her dream, she did not know. But she could find out...

---

@Starphobia

[Starphobia]

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Flickerflame
Heavily scarred fiery orange tabby tom with deep blue eyes and white paws; half blind
He/Him | 40 Moons at Death | Dark Forest [Formerly WindClan] | Apathetic

Purrks:
Nightmare Fuel T1
. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.
Flickerflame narrowed his eyes at the strange calmness of the apprentice. His expression morphed into a slight scowl.

"You're right," he growled lowly, sharp claws creating indents in the ground below. "Maybe you don't. Maybe it does make you seem weak. And perhaps you are. But do you not want to live for the pride you feel whenever you rise as the winner? The praise. Every cat knowing you are the victor. Do you not feel the need to be better than others?" Flickerflame flicked a paw, the space in the air where he had swiped with his claws strangely warping. He turned back to the apprentice, scowl turning into a sinister grin. "I'm sure you do."

{ @snowflake. }
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