Talon sits at the outskirts of the camp, looking into the distance as Frost approaches, leaping up onto the same dumpster, only to settle down next to him.
„Still here, Talon? The others are engaging in constant quarrels and you're sitting here or wherever else you disappear to regularly..."
Talon sighs, his tail swaying in light agitation that his self-imposed solitude is interrupted. He looks at his second-in-command from the corner of his eye.
„Better that way. They'll be tired from letting off all that hot air and empty threats. I won't."
„..."
Frost sits down beside the dark grey tom, flicking his nicked ear.
„You know, many cats here lay their hopes in your paws, Talon. They believe to see a new Scourge in you, maybe even better."
Talon chuckles and shakes his head before fixing his whiskers with the back of his paw, the dog teeth reinforcing his claws gleaming in the pale light descending from the semi clouded moon and stars.
„That borders on blasphemy to even say, Frost. Comparing me to our unifier and first great leader… I wasn't even there when he fell. And what for? Leading patrols against dogs in an area we hadn't seen dogs in for moons "
„For carrying out an order he himself gave you. And who was it that stormed into the forest, all alone, to retrieve Scourge's body? Without you, the clan would not even have been able to bury it's leader. Bloodclan remains in your debt"
Talon paws at the dog teeth in his collar, looking at them with guilty anger in his eye.
„I went hoping to retrieve him, not his corpse, Frost. At that, I failed and we all see what came of his loss. What may still come of it, the way things are headed"
„And in that which will still come, you carry the hopes of many of us, Talon. And you're smart enough to see that that will either give you a shot at leadership or puts your death on top of every other leader's priorities. We stand with you, Talon, but you have to do is give us direction"
The white tom slowly gets up and pads to the edge of the dumpster, glancing at the unmoving silhouette of a cat still sitting there, the low light hiding any details beyond his outlines.
„You do as you will, Talon, but you either catch the prey when it's distracted or you watch it scurry away. The day of decision draws nearer. You maintain us right now, but you must start leading."
As Frost leaps off the dumpster and pads away, Talon remains silently sitting for a while, reflecting on the words spoken today. Frost's motivation, as well as the reasonings and justifications of the other contenders for leadership. Some make decent points in their favour, others very credible threats against the whoever opposes them, some both. A deep sigh escapes the dark tom as he slowly rises to his paws. Frost had never been one to notice him much under Scourge, but for moons now he seems eager to Talon as Bloodclan's leader... Several cats had crowded around Talon when the division in Bloodclan grew greater and he'd done his best to take care of them. He can't deny that the power was flattering and that things are going comparatively well under him so far… but the lines are increasingly being drawn, and to make a challenge for leadership of all of Bloodclan would inevitably mean that blood will be spilled. The blood of clanmates that some moons ago he would have shielded with his life. But if not him, who else? Frost was not wrong, he is no less qualified, and as long as he has followers even a cat he'd submit to might still see him as a threat, a possible usurper later down the line. No matter how he'd turn, his neck is already on the line. Might as well try and go for it.
He leaps off the dumpster and makes his way back to his makeshift camp. Looking around from the corner of his eyes as he wanders down the alley, he sees cats greeting him, looking up from their makeshift dens and resting places, or disappearing into the same. It is a far cry from Bloodclan's old main camp, but it is reasonably organised so it has to do for the time being. Has for several season now. Perhaps they can return to it, once the clan is united again. But for now, those of his clanmates that have joined him need guidance. With a grunt, Talon climbs up a brick wall, sitting down upon it and looking at the alley full of cats gathering under him. He flicks his tail for the first to approach, before winding his bushy tail comfortably around his legs to rest on his paws. The day may be almost over, but work isn't yet. Clover pads over, ready to receive Talon's orders for where to lead the next patrol. Soon he might enjoy some much needed rest himself.
Rest is scarce that night. Curled up tightly in his nest of cloth pieces, feathers and torn away stuffing from cast away pillows, Talon stirs and twitches in his sleep. Too many problems left unsolved and the rising pressure of having to decide the fate of the cats under his care leave Talon struggling in an uncomfortable, nightmare ridden slumber. Dreams of blood, of the cries of his clanmates that fell in battle in the forrest, while he was not there to help. Cries of the clanmates yet to fall in the coming struggle, their faces, their empty eyes burning into Talon's consciousness. Slowly the usual nightmare begins to shift however. The cats surrounding him no longer ones he recognises, their screeches of fear and anger uttered as they battle each other remorselessly. In the distance a single dark figure, so familiar, just sitting as the horrendous scene surrounds Talon. Distant, waiting for something, for some cat.
In the early hours of the day, the sun not yet risen, he jolts awake with a gasp. The dark grey cat scans his surroundings, ears flicking in various directions… nothing. Just his nest and a small pile of bones and dog teeth in a corner in his little den under the brick wall. All is quiet, merely a dream. One dream of many. Talon takes several deep breaths and shakes his head. He notices his fur standing on end and decides to groom it back down. He needed an answer, a clear direction to take, or he'd find no rest. With a quiet grow he rises up, leaving the warmth of the nest. He needs peace of mind and there is only one place that might provide that. Walking out of his little den, Talon beholds the camp. All calm, no-one out beside the night sentry he'd appointed, sitting up on the fire stairs of one of the buildings, overlooking the camp from above. After a quick stretch, Talon climbs up to the sentry, whom gives him an acknowledging nod at his approach.
„Anything out of the ordinary, Gravel?"
The sturdy grey she-cat shakes her head, returning her gaze back to the camp
„Nothing, Talon. Even the healer's den is quiet once again."
Talon nods slowly, following her eyes down onto the alley, before looking back at her again
„I'm heading out for a bit. If there's anything urgent to report in my absence, report to Frost. I should be back before the sun's fully out."
She nods calmly as he begins to pad away
„As you wish, Talon"
The dark tom stops in his tracks for a moment, before looking over his shoulder at the vigilant she-cat
„Do you agree with me becoming the leader of Bloodclan? Frost seems quite certain of it and the time draws near when I need to make a decision. Cats will need to be ready for it, and all that comes with it."
The she-cat hums, not letting her gaze stray from the camp.
„I wish to be honest, Talon, I would not be here otherwise. The same goes for most cats in this alley. And if it comes to a fight, then we will fight. We are still Bloodclan, we are not afraid"
She flicks her tail, the tip of which a furless stump from where a dog many moons ago bit off the rest. The she-cat's bravery had never wavered, even after her injury. Talon looks at it for a moment before pulling his gaze away.
„Well spoken. I'll leave you to your watch"
With a few gracious leaps, Talon descends the fire stairs and returns to the ground, walking off. It seems the cats of his alley have already made up their mind. The position is tempting, but there is a massive gamble attached to it. If it goes wrong, he and most of the cats in his care could end up as crowfood. Bold actions would be needed, but they'd always have to be tempered with caution. Many thoughts run through the tom's head as he wanders out of the urban settings of his clan, the first few rays of the ascending sun revealing the destination in the distance, visible between the buildings, yet still a way away: the forrest. The blessed forrest that could erase Bloodclan's regularly reoccurring food shortages forever, the cursed forrest which's inhabitants took away Bloodclan's founder and leader, plunging it into it's current chaos.
As Talon leaves the city behind, his paws hit soft grass on his approach to the woods, pleasant in feel and smell. A cool air blowing through his pelt, Talon proceeds, knowing his path well by now. Finding the scent marks of two clans, he walks between and amidst them, leaving as little trace of his intrusion as possible, until he arrives at the river itself. A pleased, quiet sigh escapes him as his paws step through the soft, cool mud of the riverbank, remaining right up against it. This seems to be a border between two clan, judging by the many scent markers, and neither clan has any cats that know how to swim. On his current side the reeds grows more and higher. The Bloodclan warrior moves quietly among the tall grown plants, careful not to cause them to move or rustle much as he passes between them.
Right as he gets close to the spot he seeks, he wonders of today again he'd be met by a by now quite familiar sight. Lowering himself down and sneaking forward, there indeed he was. Watching from among the reeds that surround this peaceful little spot by the river, he sees a muscular grey tom, sitting by himself, staring into the flowing water's ripples. Talon had seen this one many times by now, at first only now and then, but as time went on the grey tom's visits to this place became more and more frequent. Talon could't argue with the forrest cat's choice of place of retreat, he seemed to use it just the same as him, the clear his head, to get a moment of peace and quiet. However, his eyes have begun to concern Talon over the course of his visits. The tom's deep blue orbs have gone from worried, to pained, to downright despair ridden these days. Talon can't help but be intrigued about what would bring this forrest cat such sorrow, but to reveal himself and ask seems like a foolish mistake to make. Once the clans know a Bloodclan warrior stalks their territory, he would not be able to return to this place for a while. Instead, Talon elects to do as he always does, patiently waiting. This visitor usually leaves shortly after the first rays of the sun descend upon the territories, which they do now. It'd not be for long. Finally, after a while of quiet waiting, he sees the blue eyed warrior get up with a sigh, shake out his pelt and pad away, no doubt to commence his daily duties to his clan.
After he vanishes through the reeds and Talon no longer hears any rustling among them, the dark tom finally leaves his hiding place, stretching himself before laying down by the riverside.
„finally…"
He hums quietly, enjoying the cold of the ground under him, the peaceful quiet only disturbed by the song of early birds and the sounds of the river itself. His red eyes stare into the water, observing the shape the ripples take, the shadow of the from time to time by-swimming fish. Letting out a deep breath, he can feel the clutter in his head lighten. It is here that he does his best thinking, and after calming down enough, that's what he'll have to do. To fight or not to fight. His group isn't much smaller than any of the other ones, but that also means that any fight would be on equal footing, a risk each time. Teeth and claws would only get them so far. The first group to assimilate another will have a decisive advantage in numbers, but also become the target of all others. And as if this was not enough, before too long leafbare would begin. Talon blinks, looking into the river's currents. His eyes widen, for just a brief moment it seemed as if a pair of ice blue eyes were observing him from the depth, but after a mere blink, he sees that there is nothing there. He lets out a deep sigh, the stress must be getting to him.
After remaining there for a while, the red eyed tom slowly gets up. The forrest clan's patrols would soon begin, and he'd do best to not be here anymore when they pass. Shouldn't take even more risks than being here in the first place. He stretches himself, muscles rippling under fur and scars before he begins the lengthy track back home. He looks at the buildings as he approaches his old familiar surroundings again. He will rule this, this all, if only he can find a way. And then? Only the future would tell.