The bloodstained regal gazed down upon the fallen she-cat, hatred burning beneath the satisfaction in his cold, sharp glare. His sharp claws pierced the cool earth, frigid air swirling around his darkened frame rapidly as he began to circle around the limp body. He scanned over her pelt as once a beautiful winter white, slowly became soaked in a deep flowing crimson as she slowly bled to death on the ground. She'd turned her head weakly to stare up at him, the light in her deep blue eyes now faded and dull.
"You did this to yourself," she managed to rasp, a squick of hatred flickering onto her expression, slowly forming into an expression of twisted joy as she had seen the words strike him. "You deserve this."
He stared down at her blankly, reflecting over what she had said before laying his claws down upon her forehead and sinking them into her flesh. "So I do," he murmured to himself, turning his empty gaze towards the dense pine needles that blotted out the sky. "I'm sorry... I tried."
The evening was warm and bright, the glowing orange sun covering the deep green pine forest in a welcoming golden glow as it crawled its way ever so slowly towards the horizon. Shrill chirping of songbirds shattered the nearly nonexistant silence spasmodically, the atmosphere easygoing and peaceful. A young tom with a coat brown as the trunk of a rowan tree and specked with deep chestnut flecks crouched low in the long grass, facing his opponent- a charcoal striped feline nearly his age and size. His golden eyes narrowed, weight shifting onto his hind legs as he prepared himself to strike out. His long, thin tail whipped behind him like a cut power line, betraying his childish glee.
"Steady yourself, Rowanpaw," a deep grey she-cat spoke firmly from within the undergrowth, watching the two young apprentices diligantly. "Don't move your tail around so much, and don't forget to get a firm grip on the dirt."
The apprentice spoke no words, but adjusted his position accordingly, struggiling to keep his form stiff and rigid as he waited for the first move to be made impatiently. His lips curled back over his pointed white rows of teeth, prepared to defend himself at any moment.
"Give it up, Blackpaw," he teased, trying to provoke him. "I'll never lose to you."
"You mean like, the other 47 times I've beaten you?" He sneered back, raking the dirt with a paw.
"We haven't even sparred 40-!"
The apprentice's voice was cut off as he saw his opponent spring into the air above him, his dark form blocking out the little sunlight that filtered through the branches. His gaze widened in surprise a split milisecond before he regained composure, hinglegs pushing back against the ground swiftly and launching himself head first into the apprentice's ribcage, knocking the wind out of his opponent's lungs and sending him sprawling backwards onto the ground. He landed on top of him, but feel flat on his side, smothering his sparring partner without noticing.
"Oof!" the apprentice grunted painedly as he felt his friend's weight land on top of him, trying to drag himself out from underneath. "You're-crushing me, mouse-brain!"
"Oh, am I?" He inquired, his voice dripping with a fake, overplayed innocence as he dug his elbow into his ribcage.
"Hey," he choked, grunting in dull agony.
"Perhaps deciding on you two as sparring partners wasn't the best idea," the young warrior purred softly with amusement, appearing from the dense foliage and shoving Rowanpaw off of the poor apprentice. "You two will never learn to be proper warriors if you aren't serious about your training."
"Pff, you're hardly 3 moons older than us!" Rowanpaw retorted jokingly, picking himself off the ground and shaking the dust off of his pelt vigourously.
"That may be so," she replied briskly, helping the charcoal apprentice off of the ground. "But I am a warrior now, and I take my duties very seriously."
"You're no fun anymore, Shorttail." He huffed, grooming the newly aqqcuired tangles out of his chest fur with his rough tongue. "Besides, when me and Blackpaw are warriors like you, we'll be twice as good as any cat ever was! Right, Blackpaw?"
"I'm... not so sure." he replied hesitantly, glancing to the side. He sat down, curling his tail neatly around his paws. "I mean, the greatest warriors... hey would belong to LionClan, wouldn't they? They were twice as big and strong as any forest cat who ever lived..."
He gave the unsteady apprentice a playful shove, purring to himself. "Aw, cmon, them? Why, they probably couldn't take down rusty old Hawkmask."
The apprentice's gaze became flooded with fear at the mention of the name, his legs quivering for a moment. "Can we not talk about him here...?"
"Come now, you two," Shorttail interrupted, breaking the two apart irritatedly as she glanced at the sky. "The sun is falling. Make yourselves useful and help me take our prey back to camp, would you?"
The three cats navigated their way side by side back to camp through the maze of trees as the sun fell over the horizon and painted the sky hues of soft lavender and bright peach, pieces of prey from the early day tucked tautly beneath their chins and clamped in their jaws. The sun had just barely finished sinkining in the sky when they had arrived at camp, made in a thick bush of ancient thorns that had been carved by their ancestors. Carefully they raised themselfs onto their haunches and leapt through a hole in the prickly branches, landing safely onto the lichen coated ground.
"You've been a while," a deep voice echoed, eminating from a rather thick branch above them. A dark russet feline came falling feet- first from the branches, landing squarely in front of them. His pine green gaze was both weary and wary, seeming to stare through the trio.
"We thought we would get in a sparring session before we came back," Shorttail responded smoothly, dipping her head respectfully to the deputy and dropping the prey at his large paws. Her tail gestured for the apprentices to do the same.
The deputy nodded, leaping swiftly up to his place on the tall branch. Shorttail dismissed the two apprentices to their den curtly, walking off to chat with a group of older warriors.
Rowanpaw yawned, stretching out inside the den and falling down beside Blackpaw. He curled his tail over his paws, stretching out his forelegs in front of him. Blackpaw curled up at his side, leaning against him.
"Don't worry, Rowanpaw," Blackpaw comforted him, trying not to yawn as he spoke. "You'll be a great warrior some day, I know it."