[let]theFLAMES-->begin [[Patchy, Riss/Open]]

[.&&. Snowsong.]

Twilight was beginning to wrap its arms around Camp, and a pale shadow slipped unusually slowly through the Camp entrance. Almost clearly, a limp was causing uneven steps; it was the left hind leg that seemed to be injured.

With her tail slightly drooping, Snowsong seemed to almost drag herself on the Earth. If anyone was allowed to see into her crystal moonstones, shadowed an almost pure, clear ebony, then they would be capable of telling that she was quite upset tonight. A cold flame was dancing in the depths of the moonstones, and she was padding toward a shadowed bush, aiming to get away from the Clan for the night.

At the moment, she wanted Risingdawn to be there, to comfort her at least. But, she felt that it would not be so. She still needed him around, though. After all, with all the horrible luck she had, she wasn't in a good mood.

All day today, she had only caught one fish, had taken on and chased off a rogue that wounded her right side and left hind leg, and then severely injured her left hind limb while attempting to kill a rabbit. Why, even the fish she had caught disappeared, the scent of another cat tainting the area where it was.

Heaving a sigh, she settled down in front of the shadows of the bush, glancing around. Almost three days straight, she had been treated harshly by the world, separated from Risingdawn aplenty, and was treated as if she were a rogue by Pachstar.

Oh, how she despised him now. Not just on her part, but on her love's part as well. Her shoulders somewhat sagged, and she hindered herself from glaring as she spotted the obese Clan leader in the clearing.

Something told her that things weren't going to go well this evening..

[[ Yes, crappy, I know. Muse is gone. >> ]]

[☆§wìftflame☆]

The camp was deathly still. No a soul seemed to move but for the steady rise and fall of their clan leader's ribs as he lay in the clearing in the middle of camp. An unseasonably sharp breeze whipped through the clearing, and ruffled the pelt of the unseen cat who lay curled in the mouth of the apprentices den.

Black eyes gave no sign of life save for the slight movement as they tracked the shadow of a form slip through the camp entrance. Other than this minuscule movement, the small, insignificant form of Echopaw was noticed by none as he effortlessly blended into the shadows. The black-pelted apprentice's claws curved silently into the dirt as he recognized his mentor, Snowsong. A cat who had only too recently earned his disgust by taking pity on him for his fragility. And along with this she had earned his mistrust.

Echopaw did not move, though his inner curiosity, always aching to burst out but never permitted, begged to know why Snowsong walked so unsteadily, and carried no prey despite her prolonged hunting trip. Echopaw summoned his boundless self-control, so unnatural in an apprentice, and managed not to call out to the cat he was bound so close to. He did, however, permit himself to rise to his paws, smoothly and silently, without even a breath of noise. There wasn't anything, hunter or prey alike, that could possibly spot or detect him in any way. Echopaw was invisible.

Still more silent than the reaching jaws of death, the undersized cat padded lightly and carefully across the clearing, even though he knew full well that he could break into a run and neither Snowsong nor Patchstar would ever hear him. Echopaw's unusual gift of ear-splitting silence was a gift as well as a cursed. Always overlooked, never though of.

Now, however, he used it as an unmatchable talent, moving across the clearing like black smoke. He secured a spot mere feet from his mentor, also within easy hearing distance of Patchstar. Some feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him something important was going to happen here, though he couldn't exactly place what. For Echopaw, any information gleaned was something he could use against someone else, anything he could use to defend himself against hateful eyes and unforgiving glares. The apprentice felt an outcast in any part of clan life, and would have killed to just not be alive. Not, settling soundlessly onto his hanches, Echopaw pricked his ears and observed, ready to take anything he could get.

[♫.Starredmyst]

Snowsong was late.

Yellow-green eyes glittered in the shadows cast by the evening and the tall cliff guarding camp; Patchstar was, like the other participants of the drama to come, lurking about the edges of society. There was one difference, however: unlike the others, who hid themselves in hopes of remaining unnoticed, the leader of IvoryClan drew the shadows around him like an ominous cloak. He was lying next to the stream, across from the freshkill pile, as close to the center of camp as could be found against the cliff face; he could see and be seen from any angle and took advantage of that fact, lifting his head regally -- the cruelty in his expression, if not the desired majesty, would have the same frightened effect -- watching every cat in camp to make them nervous.

This was one of the techniques Patchstar -- and his father before them -- had used to intimidate his Clanmates. I'm watching you, his posture told them coldly. It had been a long time -- he'd forgotten how good it felt, the heady power found in the blatant nervousness, the veiled fear from those who glanced his way.

And that wasn't all...

He would never have a better opportunity than tonight. It was as perfectly staged as if he had planned every second of it, played StarClan, rather than move the few pawns he still controlled. Starredmyst, his dear, foolish daughter, was on an evening patrol that would not be back until long after this was over. Risingdawn he had sent out hunting -- the tom would return sooner, but not until after his so-called love had been pulled to pieces. There were Clanmates lurking around camp, but he saw some of his remaining supporters as well as the less pleased cats: if he worded this carefully, he could gain allies instead of enemies. This would not be a repeat of the loner fiasco.

And Snowsong was late.

There -- a white form, slipping around the edges of camp. She obviously was trying to avoid him. He noticed a limp -- and after a long day of hunting, she had no prey.

Better and better. Knowing the expression on his face was slightly mad -- and not caring, because it was worth it to see a passing tom shrink away -- Patchstar heaved himself to his feet and padded in the she-cat's direction.

"Snowsong." He called out her name in a low, threatening voice, catching her just as she approached a hiding spot. He walked slowly closer, stepping around to block her advance.

"You were gone all day. Where is your kill?"

[.&&. Snowsong.]

"Snowsong." The voice she was beginning to develop a dislike to drifted into her ears, and she definitely didn't expect anything 'kind' escaping the overweight leader's jowls. "You were gone all day. Where is your kill?" Just as she suspected; another moment of criticism.

Keeping herself from snapping at him as her paw-steps paused when he got in the way, Snowsong glanced up at him, her moonstones almost glaring into his. "The sum of my day is, I got injured by chasing off a rogue, and tried to hunt with an injured leg, which earned me several escaping prey. And it was all for your -- no -- our Clan." Though her expression was nearly emotionless, barely radiating any fury, her tone and eyes were all that were required to find out her true mood; her tone was a bitter cold, and her orbs had the coldest flame possible.

She hindered herself from making a cold remark, knowing it wouldn't be the wisest thing to do, even if she did feel the growing dislike suddenly jolt up to near hatred. Holding back from allowing him to inspire her to cause a stronger conflict, she took a step back, before attempting to pad around him. She had no desire for a fight today, unlike the other days.

[[ Muse died in the middle of post. >> Oh, and this is gonna be fun. xD ]]

[♫.Starredmyst]

Ooh, she was angry.

Patchpelt and haunted-Patchstar would have quailed under the look Snowsong gave them. But Patchstar wasn't that tom anymore. He was remembering -- thanks to this rude, insubordinate little she-cat, he remembered what it meant to be leader. Mere whispers couldn't bring down a system that had been in place for generations -- mere anger could not intimidate the leader of a Clan. So he smiled at the cold fury radiating from the white cat.

Mad Patchstar might be, but he was enjoying the experience.

"Don't walk away while I'm speaking to you, warrior." His voice was amused, but he put steel into it, and blocked her again. "Injured or no, I expect common courtesy from other cats. May I ask why you chose to chase this rogue off yourself, rather than finding a patrol who could help you? We have a new queen in the nursery, and possibly more to come -- we can't afford to be down a warrior."

He could just attack her and speed things up, but he wanted her to be very squarely at fault for this. There were cats watching them.

[.&&. Snowsong.]

Pausing again as the overweight leader blocked her way, Snowsong forced herself to bring her rage down a notch. "If I had looked around for a patrol, the rogue would have easily gone for the Camp. What chances are there that he wouldn't, when he was already trespassing in the direction of Camp? He knew what he wanted, what he was doing, so I had no time to search for a patrol to assist me. Would you rather lose me, or lose many of the Clan's future?" her tone was almost a matter-of-fact one. Obviously, she knew what she was saying, and she knew she had reasons to back up her actions.

Now, she definitely knew that her annoying, pathetic leader wouldn't let her get away with the Clan watching them. Oh no, he was waiting for the moment to make the Clan turn on her.

Hindering her fur from bristling at all, she sat down, suppressing a wince as weight was slightly put onto her injured leg. Coldly glancing into her leader's optics, she found something she truly despised. He was plotting against her, and this was the time he planned on putting his plot into action. What he had in mind, she knew not of, but she did know she'd have to keep an eye on him.

[♫.Starredmyst]

Patchstar thought fast; a good answer always put him off his stride, but he was in his element now. "Very noble of you, Snowsong," he meowed coldly. "I hadn't realized you were so willing to put yourself in the way of your Clanmates. I certainly wouldn't have expected it from someone of your...background."

His eyes flickered to the old scar on Snowsong's back leg, and then back to her face, in an unmistakable message. When he needed to punish a cat, he made certain to learn the best way to do it -- and family histories often made good ammunition.

"Nonetheless, it was foolish to think one hunter would be stronger than the cats defending camp. I would have expected you to think before you acted, Snowsong -- there are always enough cats around here to protect our more vulnerable elements."

His eyes glittered. "After all, I would dare to include myself in that count -- or do you suggest that I, too, would not lay my life on the line for our future?"

[.&&. Snowsong.]

"Very noble of you, Snowsong," he meowed coldly. "I hadn't realized you were so willing to put yourself in the way of your Clanmates. I certainly wouldn't have expected it from someone of your...background."

"My background means nothing to the present," she replied simply, her tone losing its matter-of-fact chime and drifting into the usual emotionless state.

"Nonetheless, it was foolish to think one hunter would be stronger than the cats defending camp. I would have expected you to think before you acted, Snowsong -- there are always enough cats around here to protect our more vulnerable elements."

"For your information, I did think before I acted. It was reasonable enough in my eyes, to keep the rogue from getting anywhere closer to Camp," she responded, her tone and expression now unreadable, emotionless.

"After all, I would dare to include myself in that count -- or do you suggest that I, too, would not lay my life on the line for our future?"

Was he trying to accuse her of the wrong thoughts? She was a warrior, if he hadn't realized it, and he had been pampered; she felt that, if he had gone through her past, he would have cringed uncountable times, unlike her. She had been strong, and now, he was daring to say she was weak and illogical? "Are you saying that I think that you are not meant to be leader? You're already leader, so I cannot say that you are weak and uncaring of the Clan, even if I wanted to."

[☆§wìftflame☆]

Echopaw's muscles ached from being still for so long, but his mind was racing. Patchstar was crazy, everyone knew that. But Echopaw hadn't realized how cold and cruel Patchstar had become. Being Snowsong's apprentice, Echopaw couldn't help but take her side. Of course she should have attacked the rogue, otherwise he could have escaped. And how was it her fault she was injured putting her life on the line for the clan?

Eyes glowing dangerously, Echopaw shifted slightly to relieve his muscles. His claws unsheathed and dug furiously into the dirt as Patchstar questioned Snowsong's loyalty to the clan. For the moment, his anger with her was forgotten. Echopaw was behind his mentor one hundred percent. However, something was bothering him even more than this. Why was Patchstar so stiff, so ready pounce? Was it possible he planned to attack Snowsong? Echoes of his training flashed through the apprentices mind. If Patchstar attacked Snowsong, Echopaw would be right there beside her in the fray.

[/blockquote]

[♫.Starredmyst]

"Are you saying that I think that you are not meant to be leader? You're already leader, so I cannot say that you are weak and uncaring of the Clan, even if I wanted to."

"Even if you wanted to..."

Patchstar's voice had dropped down, just above a hiss. His yellow-green eyes glittered with that strange, barely-contained madness. They bored into Snowsong's grey, emotionless ones for a long moment, seeming to barely comprehend the expression in them; then, abruptly, his head jerked up and around. There were still cats watching.

Clearly, she wasn't going to attack him. The more he prodded at her, the more she pulled away; he did not know how to unleash that formidable anger it was said she possessed. So he would have to lead...

The tom's eyes swept the gathering once more, and he watched with satisfaction as the medicine cat's tail flicked around the camp exit. He turned to look back at Snowsong, and dropped his eyes briefly, suddenly apologetic.

"I am sorry, Snowsong." His voice was contrite, but beneath the surface sounded nearly as flat as Snowsong's own. "With so many warriors whispering, fighting my decisions, I have become reluctant to trust even my bravest warriors. I should not have accused you so. Let me escort you to the medicine den, so that you can have that leg looked at."

[.&&. Snowsong.]

For a moment, she felt uncertain of trailing after he leader. For a second, she swiftly thought, before slightly flicking her tail-tip. "No need, Patchstar. You have leader duties to tend to. I would hate to get in the way." Slightly flicking her lobes, she glanced at her injured leg.

Then, she spotted the paws of her apprentice. Glancing up, she spotted Echopaw watching her -- no, her and Patchstar. Was that rage and mistrust burning within the depths of his eyes? And, if so, who was it directed to?

Soon shaking herself, inwardly, she allowed her moonstones to rest upon the medicine cat den. For a moment longer, she hesitated, before taking uneven, yet silent, steps across the clearing. Something was screeching within the back of her mind, telling her it was a bad idea, so her pace somewhat slowed. As another chance to buy time, she rasped her tongue over her injury, cleaning it before getting back to her paws again.

[♫.Starredmyst]

OOc;{So since this got ridiculously long-winded about five posts ago, I'm gonna make Patchy go randomly crazy and attack her either way next post. xD}

"Please."

Seeing that Snowsong hesitated, suspecting him -- seeing in it that she wasn't entirely certain that he was plotting against her -- Patchstar pressed his point. He followed the she-cat as she began to walk across the clearing, towards the den, he thought, and kept his voice quiet, earnest.

"Moonwhisker has taken over many of my daily duties of late. I find myself left with little to do, and I was speaking truly when I told you we can't afford to lose a useful member of our Clan. Let me at least make certain that you will be well -- please?"

It irked him, that he had to be so polite to a scheming little she-cat, one who had been plotting against him ever since she'd met that traitor of a warrior, Risingdawn. No, it more than irked him. The leader's intoxication with his power, his dark eagerness to keep it whatever the cost, was quickly fading in the face of this frustratingly blank cat's lack of response. He remembered again Mothflight's words earlier, the way the she-cat and her love disrespected him -- fury flared in him, hot and unreasonable, and his claws flashed out into the dirt.

Returning to his senses, the black-and-white tom pulled them in quickly, flashing his best, most earnest smile into Snowsong's face. "Don't worry me," he said quietly -- a final plea, or perhaps something darker -- and turned to lead her to the medicine den. Surely she wouldn't walk away if he took the lead.

[.&&. Snowsong.]

[[ Yes, please. It's getting annoying, how it's taking so long. xD At least it's buying time for Riss to get back. ]]

Flicking her lobes at her leader's words, Snowsong soon decided to trail after him. She padded after Patchstar, glancing around and almost glaring at those that oh so dared to stare at her. Though she felt a flicker of rage again, she swiftly calmed herself.

Taking those uneven steps as she followed him, glancing back to make certain nobody was daring to speak a word about it. her moonstones flicked to her apprentice, Echopaw, watching him for a short moment, before glimpsing at the Camp entrance, hoping that Risingdawn would be back soon; she needed his comfort at the moment.

Heaving the faintest hint of a sigh, she glanced away from the Camp, toward her leader as he continued to lead her to the medicine cat's den. However, slightly past halfway there, pain seared through her injured limb. She paused, rasping her tongue over it, before glancing back up to the leader.

[[ I'm hoping that he could attack Snow in front of the entire Camp. ._. ]]

[♫.Starredmyst]

She was so slow.

As Snowsong hesitated -- at the very entrance to the medicine cat den -- Patchstar couldn't stand it anymore. She was so close -- and every glance at her infuriated him afresh, reminded him of what she'd done -- of how much respect he'd lost --

And so, with that last stop, Patchstar snapped.

All his frustration with the she-cat, his displaced anger at the entire Clan, flashed out in a single leap. Patchstar lunged for Snowsong, slamming into her clumsily -- just enough of his sanity remained that the shove was in the direction of the medicine den, to get them as far out of public sight as possible. In an instant he was attacking her claw and fang -- movements clumsy with weight and lack of practice -- but all of his weight was behind the full-out attack, and teeth don't dull for lack of fighting.

OOc;{Icky post -- I'm short on time and my muse is dead.}

[.&&. Snowsong.]

Stifling a yowl of both pain and shock as Patchstar rammed into her, she dropped to the ground, wincing for a second at the pain that shot through her injured leg. With plenty of effort, she slipped from the medicine cat den entrance, knowing too well that she had the entire disadvantage if he knocked her into there.

Though she did not escape the entrance unscathed -- earning quite a few scratch wounds and a couple of bite wounds -- she managed to whip around and brace herself for a battle that she most likely couldn't win.

Despite ducking and dodging, she kept feeling damage continue to be inflicted upon her. Though he was clumsy, she was injured, and badly wounded; no matter what at the moment, he had the advantage. All because she could use that darned, injured leg of hers to use some of her best techniques. It even slowed her down.

But, there was no time to be angry. With his claws raking across her side, a yowl escaped her, but she snapped her jowls shut, launching herself backwards. She didn't want to fight her leader, but she knew she'd have to soon.

And that soon arrived all too swiftly. Feeling claws puncture her right shoulder's flesh, she swung a claw at her leader's paws, attempting to defend herself. She just wanted to dodge and only attack when definitely required; emotionless as usual, she began to weave around assaults, receiving a few more blows.