Hello! This is my first fanfiction, and reviews are very welcome! :)

Saffron's blue eyes glittered in the darkness as he watched the three cats prowl ahead of him. The full moon had sunk into a waning three-quarter, and it was clear to him that these cats were not exactly comfortable in the night. They stumbled and tripped over obvious obstacles, though they were clearly attempting to keep silent as they passed through the trees. It wasn't working. A kit could have followed their clumsy steps.
Their three targets were aiming for a small clearing where the floor was thick with moss and a leaf-choked stream trickled through the soft earth. At any other time Saffron would have thought how pretty it was. Now he only saw the tactical advantages. A stream to dispose of his work and hide his pawprints. Plenty of bushes and shrubs on the outside to hide in. Tall trees-as a last resort, of course.
Saffron did not expect to fail. He'd done this so many times already. But still, he flinched as one of the cats they were tracking swung around in an attempt to see if they were being followed. Saffron did not even bother to crouch. With his golden fur turned silver, he looked just like another pool of moonlight in the open space. He closed his eyes to prevent them from seeing the reflected sparkle, and waited until they turned to each other.

"If they could be any louder…" breathed a voice into his ear. Saffron choked on a yelp. "Hollyleaf, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?"
His mate was even better hidden in the shadows, her black pelt completely invisible. A pair of amused green eyes was all he saw of her.
Hollyleaf shrugged. "Sorry, dear. Didn't mean to scare you."
Saffron sighed and decided to let it go. No matter how hard he had practised, he could never match Hollyleaf's skill in hunting and stalking. When he'd asked her how she learned, she'd shuttered herself (as she always did when he asked about her past) and muttered that, where she had come from, these movements were as easy as breathing.
Saffron tried to return his attention to the task at paw, but her warm breath was tickling his ear-fur and he found it distracting. Finally he shifted a few paces away from her. "Okay. You go for the tabby tom, and I'll get the brown one. Then whoever finishes first can take that little grey she-cat. Got it?"
He saw her eyes bob up and down in a nod. He probably hadn't even needed to say it, but he sometimes liked to pretend he was the one in charge around here.

They had been assigned this task by a cat whose name he didn't know and probably never would. She was the leader of a group of rogues who had bunched up for protection. The cats that they were tracking now were members who had been plotting against her and planning on taking control.
So they needed to be eliminated.
In return, they would spend a few nights in a warm den and with plenty of fresh-kill. That was the way he and Hollyleaf worked. They were mercenaries, and their tasks could range from carrying kits when a camp was moved to helping a mated pair catch prey. Or it could be something like this. In fact, it was usually something like this. Most of the cats they helped were not exactly fine models of decency. But only once had a cat tried to trick them. He had regretted it dearly.
"Saffron!" Hollyleaf hissed, sounding annoyed. "Stop woolgathering and get to it! The cats are starting to move." She was wondering why they hadn't attacked earlier. Their targets had discussed some sort of plans in low voices and were now heading back to their camp.
"Okay. Three…two…go!"

His huge legs pushed upwards as he sprang onto the back of the brown tom. The rogue staggered, caught completely unaware by the sudden violence, and Saffron bit down into his neck, severing the veins and arteries that carried his lifeblood. The cat made a feeble swipe at him before hitting the ground.
It's that easy to kill someone. Almost easier than hunting prey.
Next to him, Hollyleaf had tried a different tactic; she did not have the weight to bring down a tom. Instead, she had slunk like a shadow across the forest floor, right under his nose, before reaching up and tearing his throat open. The cat had gurgled for breath before following his brethren into death. Saffron stared at his paws, happy for Hollyleaf to take the little cat. She reared up and crashed down into the rogue, ignoring her terrified squeals. Hollyleaf dug a claw into her prey's chest and another one somewhere in the stomach. The cat collapsed on her back.
Saffron pushed his mate away. "It's done, all right? She's dead." It was at times like this when he was almost…afraid of Hollyleaf. He could never be sure what she was really like. Sometimes it bothered her to kill even an evil murderer, muttering something about a 'warrior code'. And then there were these moments, when she seemed to be satisfying some dark primal need of her own when she spilled blood.
Hollyleaf shook her head. "She isn't dead. I saw her breathe."
"Then let me do it."
She shrugged and stepped back, and gestured with a paw. "Hurry up. I'm hungry."

Saffron approached the tiny cat, and noticed that she wasn't really small-she was young. Barely more than a kit. Her fur was still fluffy and soft, and she carried the faintest aroma of moss. Rogues out here generally only used moss for queens and their kits.
"Look at her," he said softly. "She's not a threat. We can leave her."
Hollyleaf bent her head to sniff the cat, and Saffron was relieved to see a quiver of shame go through her. "She'll die anyway," the black she-cat murmured. "It'll just be more painful if we leave her."
Saffron considered this. Finally, he nodded. "That's true."
He stood over the victim and lowered his head to see if she really was breathing. Satisfied, he clamped his powerful jaws gently over her muzzle and waited until her gasps for air had faded. When he was certain she was unconscious, he rolled the she-cat on her back and softly pierced her heart with a claw. A painless death. One he would never have.

Hollyleaf flicked her tail at him gently. "Come on. We've got a few days of luxury to look forward to."
Saffron sighed. "I know…but why is it always kits that get involved?"
"Don't be silly! You saw her. Or at least, I did. She was plotting with the rest of them to get that leader killed. You missed the part where she suggested deathberries in the fresh-kill. She's not exactly innocent, sweetheart."
"Maybe the leader deserves to be overthrown," Saffron murmured, but Hollyleaf ignored him, and continued. "Anyway, this is just what we have to do to survive. Nothing more, nothing less. My conscience is clear."
Saffron studied her. Was she lying? He could never tell.
She met his gaze and tossed her head. "Sometimes, killing is the only way," she said in a soft, melancholy tone. "You can't talk your way out of everything, Saffron. They don't listen…they never do. You can try all you want, and they'll still see you as the enemy…"
Saffron touched his nose to hers. "Where did you come from, dear?"
Hollyleaf stiffened, but she did not seem to be angry. "A long way from here. With a group of cats that were noble, loyal and wise, and would never accept help from rogues or kill their own denmates. They cared for the kits and the older cats first, and nobody ever killed or plotted against their leaders."
"If it's so great, why did you leave?" Saffron was aware he was walking on thin ice, but again Hollyleaf did not appear to mind.
"Because of what I knew…I couldn't stay. They would have hated me for what I did, what I said. They probably think I'm dead, anyway. That's what I would have said."
"Well," said Saffron, nuzzling her gently, "Whatever the reason, I'm glad of it, otherwise I would never have met you."

Hollyleaf's lips creased in a faint smile. "No, you wouldn't have, would you?" she purred softly. "Come on then, let's get out of here before the crowfood-eaters come."
"Like crows?" he said dryly.
"Don't be dumb! Crows don't fly at night."
"How would you know? They're black, so you wouldn't see!"
Hollyleaf laughed and shook her head. "Sometimes, I wonder about you," she said, but still with a trace of a purr. "How would you live without me?"
"I'm not planning to, for one thing," he mewed, before twining his tail with hers and leading the way back to the small rogue camp.
To take their payment, and move on.