act: final // scene: final

[Raccoonstar]

[atrb=width,500px][atrb=border,0px,true][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=border-right: 120px solid #4a4d5a; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 10px 20px 0px;font-size: 10px] A bright flash of light made his pale eyes snap open, any amount of sleepiness gone from them. They dashed around for a moment as the seconds passed, but the rest of his body remained motionless; he was paralyzed from the sudden shock. One...two...three... He counted, waiting for the thunder that would follow the lightning. Four...five-- The loud crash interrupted his thoughts and freed him from his frozen state, bringing him to his paws. He glanced around his den, fur on end and bristling. He could hear the distinct sound of sheets of rain falling on rocky earth, and he knew that the noise would prevent him from getting any more sleep. He let out a sigh, a deep whoosh that he expected would leave a cold puff of visible air, but instead just filled his ears with a noise other than the hissing rain in the background. A greenleaf storm: not rare, but usually unexpected. The rain that was erupting from the clouds above him would be warmer than any other kind of seasonal rain, and the air would be thick and humid. Since he decided that he wouldn't freeze to death if he left his den, and he certainly wasn't going to get any sleep with all of these flashes of lightning and explosions of thunder, he carefully placed a paw outside to soak in what some called 'StarClan's tears'. And another paw. And another. Out into the warm, rainy night. His head pointed up toward the stormy sky, feeling the streams of rain soak through his fur, thoroughly drenching it. The moon that usually was his nighttime guide was obscured by heavy stormclouds, its light unable to break through the barrier. He looked back down irritatedly as the rain seeped into his eyes and blurred his vision. He would need his eyes if he planned on leaving the camp to sit and think, which seemed like the best possible idea on this kind of night. He glanced around as well as he could through the torrent, his wet fur hanging limply from his body and shaking slightly when he moved, dislodging a few lukewarm water droplets that were quickly replaced. Everyone would be in their dens by now, the heavier sleepers keeping warm throughout the storm, the lighter ones curling up next to the others and trying to do the same. Still, he took each pawstep with care. There was no need to bother them or wake them, and certainly no reason for them to worry about their leader taking a walk in the warm, dark rain. All he was doing was thinking. There was no harm in thinking, right? Another sigh, another puff of air that merged with the warm, wet breeze. It was time to go. He wordlessly slunk past the edges of the camp of his nice warm Clan, and into what was considered 'hunting territory'. He doubted the idea of actually finding something to hunt in this weather, but that was what the area was called, and he wasn't going to be the one who needed to change it for an arbitrary and unnecessary reason. He paused for a moment, images of his nice, dry den taunting him, before pushing them away and moving on. There was no time for dawdling; summer storms could end just as quickly as they start, and then everyone would reemerge and ask questions and look for him. The last thing he needed was his Clan to be known as the one that had to send out a search party for their own leader. They'd be the laughingstock of all the cats in the land, Clan, rogue, or otherwise. He was not going to be the leader that had to face other cats laughing in his face. Or at his face, too, since his odd raccoon-like stripe was apparently the topic of many. He didn't pay much attention to it; it was merely his appearance, and since he couldn't see himself without trying to (in a puddle or a lake or what have you), what was the point of worrying? He wasn't usually one to be self-conscious about something so shallow. Splasssh! His grey paw had a noisy encounter with a puddle he wasn't looking out for. He instinctively turned to make sure no one had heard the sound, but after a thorough search for his own Clanmates, he found nothing. So he pressed on, putting more distance between himself and the others. Another flash of light made him squint and shut his eyes, and he again counted off the seconds, stiff and unmoving. One...two...three-- Again, the resounding crash of thunder interrupted him. He opened his eyes again and patiently awaited the full return of his night-vision, which had been interrupted by the flashing whiteness. He swished his tail irritably at the wasted time and continued onward, through the plants and rocks turned dusky grey by the stormy gloom. His ears tilted towards the varying sounds he could make out: the skittering of little paws running around, the whistling of the wind through the towering trees, and of course, the ever-persistent droning of the rain, which seemed to block out everything else that he could possibly hope to hear. At least the sound was consistent, and after a while it became a sort of odd lullaby that drove him through his territory with an irregular rhythm. At last--a faint scent that differed from the rain. The scent markings of his patrols, faint and in need of renewal. This was the border that usually kept kittypets away, but there was always the occasional troublemaker that slipped through a hole in the olfactory defense. They very rarely bothered anyone, so the border was more symbolic than anything. Still, he found his paws had ceased their movement, his instincts unwilling to let him leave his familiar territory for the unknown outside. He stared into the place beyond his homeland, wondering how different it was from the region he knew and loved. It was a shame he would probably never live to find out, as his instincts were very clear on the rules of staying in the places that he knew. He sat on the wet earth and slowly shut his eyes, letting the rushing sounds of falling rain fill his senses. What are you going to do about her? The first question that came to mind, and he was ashamed that it was so. The idea of him being so infatuated with a member of his Clan that he could not possibly be with...it was frustrating. Exasperating. Infuriating, even. He didn't even need to specify the 'her' anymore. The 'her' meant Moonfire. The 'her' meant Slashsnow. The 'her' meant trouble. The truth was, he didn't know what to do. Maybe, as a leader, he was supposed to know how to handle everything, how to counter every maneuver used against him, but StarClan be damned, he just didn't know anymore. The subject of love was something he had consistently seen and it was also something that he consistently failed in. Love...that little, simple word had so much meaning attached to it. Love had rules, love had restrictions, love had exclusions and exceptions and anomalies and nothing was ever the same in life once you'd been bitten with its infectious poison. He wanted it out of his life. He wanted just to be able to focus on his Clan and on Silentstar's effect on his Clan and on Seastar's episodes and the rumors about Jadestar losing her lives...there was just too much to deal with without love being an added factor. It seemed like there was no real answer. If he was allowed to choose Moonfire, he'd be breaking the heart and trust of not one, but two of his own warriors, and he'd be endangering the Clan by holding his own deputy back. If he chose Slashsnow...well, how could he? This lovesickness he had about Moonfire wasn't something he could just replace, and he felt like Slashsnow's attraction to him was just as unhealthy as his attraction to Moonfire. The white she-cat wasn't ready for him, and he didn't know if he was ready for Moonfire, either. There were no options that didn't end with some kind of loss. He tried to push the loaded question aside, but it stuck in his mind like a thorn in his paw. His claws unsheathed and dug into the ground with a feverish intensity that reflected on his state of mind. He always felt like this nowadays: short-tempered and fevered and hopelessly lost. He thought that the rain would have helped alleviate his stresses, but he was only dwelling on them further than he had been before. How many times had he tried this strategy with the same result? How many times had secluding himself made things worse? It felt like a pounding headache that he could never get rid of; it slowed him down, it clouded his judgement, it made him do things like walk out into the pouring rain alone at night where he was vulnerable and useless. He was a leader, for StarClan's sake! He was supposed to help his Clan, and how could he when he couldn't even help himself?! He turned his head skyward again, his view of the rain distorting as he watched the rain land on his muzzle. His ears flattened as if he was ready to attack the clouds themselves, and that was what he wanted. StarClan wasn't going to help him. All of his dead ancestors, everyone who could have possibly done something was dead and gone and they wouldn't even help him with the simplest problem. That simple, terrible problem that was slowly eating away at him. His pupils narrowed into thin, angry slits, and his jaw opened slowly, hesitantly, as if preparing for something that just couldn't be rushed. He could hear his own voice over the rain, but it wasn't words that he heard. Just a long, painful, broken yowl that forced out all of his troubles and stresses and pain into the heavens above him. He had to pause the noise to take a breath, and he coughed through the rain caught in his throat and the inevitable lump that made it difficult to breathe. His eyes squeezed shut as he coughed, a hacking sort that made his entire body shiver with the effort. The coughing slowly faded back into the now-deafening roar of the rain, and his eyes opened back into a glare as dark as the skies themselves, pointing his head back up for another screaming match with StarClan. This time, there were words attached to his angry, raw voice. "What am I supposed to do, StarClan? Why won't you help me?! What do you want from me?!" He wanted them to answer. He wanted the storm to fade into a light that would show him the way, but he knew that light wasn't coming. StarClan wasn't coming. Maybe...maybe StarClan wasn't even real. Maybe it was all some folktale some elder made up long ago, and everyone was just an idiot for believing stories they hear. He wasn't going to be that idiot anymore. Everything was just a lie and a fake, and he had been forsaken by something that didn't exist. His voice rang out again, having paused at his realization. "You're not even real, are you...? Answer me, StarClan, if you're actually real! ANSWER ME!" His last two words echoed for a moment. The rain continued to roar against the earth below it in a cascade of water. There was no answer. StarClan isn't real. It started off as a little chuckle. As if someone had just recently told a joke, but not a very good one. Just a quiet little chuckle that no one but him could really hear over the weather. The chuckle grew in volume, steadily and quickly, until it had him knocking his head backwards with the force of it, racking through his body just as hard as his coughing fit. A resonant, melodious, dark laugh that rang through the air, his ears, his mind, competing with the overwhelming force of the tempest itself. He was feeling...good. As if he'd been blind to something and that something was just now being revealed. And it was funny. Life was funny. He just had to share a laugh about it. He'd been holding up against his mental weights and stresses for so long... ...And everything has its breaking point. [/style][STYLE=float: left; width: 380;border: 3px solid #4a4d5a;width: 100px; height: 100px;][/style][STYLE=float: left;width: 250px;padding-left: 10px;font-size: 10px]Notes: compare this to any other post I have on this site and try to count the differences Word count: two thousand ninety-four Tagged: skyleaf and also smokeleaf maybe template by pianissimo of btn[/style][STYLE=color: #4a4d5a; font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 2;line-height: 23px;margin-right: 5px;float: right;width: 120px;text-align: right;]one last stand; one final demand[/style]

[Seafeather]

Skyleaf paced in her den. Her pawsteps silent under the torrential rain outside, as if the rain was trying to wash all the Clans away. Lightning flashed, blinding Skyleaf for a moment and making her see little lines of bright light when she looked around or blinked. She felt weird, like something was messing with her emotions from the inside. She continued her pacing, continued her quest on deciphering why her emotions where so mixed. She felt anxiety; something she was used to from other cats, but it wasn't from another cat. It wasn't dulled down as if it was from another cat, it was her own anxiety. Confusion, confusion at why she was having anxiety. Was it because of the storm? No, Skyleaf was used to storms, she loved storms even on nights like this. Usually. Her confusion was not left to ebb away as she would normally have it, but stayed at the forefront of her mind. Like something you want to forget, but trying to forget it only made it burn itself permanently into your mind. Like a sickness you just wanted to clear up, but had no control the more you wanted it gone.

Skyleaf sat down and glared at the floor, kneading the soft earth beneath her paws, making little divots where her claws tore at it. She had never felt this way before. This-this anger that was surging in her! What was its cause? She closed her eyes to help her focus on her thoughts and to keep them in order. What had happened within the last moon that would cause her to be angry? Had any of the warriors been curt or rude with her? Were any of the mothers a little snappish with her recently? No. And besides, Skyleaf normally ignored things like that. She knew that being a warrior was tougher than it looked. She also knew, by observing the mothers of course, that when you had kits who were still nursing, the queens weren't normally all that happy for anyone, even the fathers. So what had been the harm?

Cool air was blowing through the entrance to her den, making the thin-furred she-cat chilled. But it was also humid air. The storm wasn't letting up any time soon, so maybe she should just step out for a bit. Let the warm rain soak her down and clear her head. Maybe then something will surface in her mind that will lead to the root of this anger. Skyleaf took a step outside her den, immediately feeling raindrops on her paws and then on her face. She closed her eyes and let the water sink into her fur, cooling her skin and clearing her mind. Clearing her mind of everything. Of Seastar's latest life, of Jadestar's death, of the conflicts between FrostClan and IvyClan, of anything and everything. Even StarClan...StarClan! Skyleaf's eyelids flashed open, revealing her bright blue eyes that were nervously glancing around the camp. StarClan hadn't shown her anything in the past few moons. Not even a dream. Even the previous medicine cats haven't been walking in her dreams. Not even the other Clan medicine cats.

So that was it then: the source of her anger. StarClan had just abandoned SnakeClan for no reason. Just decided not to care about them anymore, or even about their medicine cat. Skyleaf felt like she could scream. Scream at every living being, every rock, every particle of dirt to make sure that StarClan could feel, taste even, her hate towards them. She had done nothing but care for her Clan. Done everything within her power to make sure that Raccoonstar was a good leader, still full of lives. Made sure that her Clan never went into battle unless they absolutely had to, and especially with StarClan's blessing. She turned on her heel and ran straight for her den. This was part one of leaving. Part two would have to wait a bit longer.

Skyleaf ran through her stores of herbs, throwing every one of the leaves onto the ground, shredding them into tiny pieces. The leaves holding things like honey or chewed up roots thrown against the walls, smearing them with brightly colored poultices and sweet smelling honey. Poppy seeds flung everywhere. Not one herb was left in the crevices. The little stream of water that pooled in a small space in her den was stopped up with cobwebs, several leaves lying on top of the water hiding it from view. StarClan had failed her, so nothing of her life as a medicine cat mattered anymore. She would have no remembrance of the 'paw she saved last moon, no memories of her and her mentor. Nothing would remain. She would be Skybird once again.

Panting from the rage and the excursion of tearing the place apart, Skyleaf gazed at her work. Happy that she had rid the place of her presence as Skyleaf, and would now live her life as a rogue. The warrior code had failed her once, the medicine cat code had failed her, and now StarClan had failed her. She had nothing left in the Clans that she cared for. Now to implement part two. Skyleaf ran from her den, her tail streaming behind her like a shadow. The rain splashing in her face made it hard to see where she was going. The mud of the forest floor would make a sucking sound every time she pulled one of her paws from its grasp. A tree limb was in her way and not bothering to slow down she jumped into the air, planning on jumping over the tree limb but the mud didn't release her back paws. Instead she slammed into the ground, causing mud to force its way into her nose and mouth, covering her black fur with brown muck. Glancing around to make sure no one had seen her, she took off again, this time going around the tree so she wouldn't have to try to jump over it again.

She could see it! She was almost to the edge of the territory when she heard something. It was another cat! And it was...laughing? Even to this new version of Skyleaf that sounded crazy. She ducked under the nearest bunch of heather to watch this cat. It was a tom, she could tell that much. She looked harder at the shape but the rain that was flowing freer from the sky didn't help. Just when he had thrown his head back to laugh harder a flash of lightning had illuminated him just enough to give a name to this dark cat. Raccoonstar! Had he finally flipped his lid? Gone off the deep-end for forever in his quest to find out which she-cat to love? Something inside Skyleaf cracked a little. She hadn't thought about her possibilities with the leader since she became medicine cat. It was something that medicine cats couldn't do. They couldn't have a mate. But I'm not a medicine cat anymore...StarClan hates me. Skyleaf's eyes hardened into ice. And I hate StarClan. She stepped out from under the heather and walked closer to Raccoonstar and stopped about a fox-length away from him.

"What are you doing so far from camp, Raccoonstar?" She accused. It wasn't the sweet purr she was used to. But of course, Skyleaf wasn't Skyleaf anymore either. She was Skybird, the rogue. "Especially on this kind of night." She gestured to the rain pouring down from the dark clouds. She sat down and neatly wrapped her tail around her paws and awaited his answer.

OOC: Whoooo! 1262 word count! Go Skyleaf! Go! XD

[Raccoonstar]

[atrb=width,500px][atrb=border,0px,true][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=border-right: 120px solid #4a4d5a; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 10px 20px 0px;font-size: 10px] Another lightning strike; he didn't bother counting the seconds it took for the thunder to follow, but he knew that it wasn't many. The flash had, for a moment, illuminated everything around him, every piece of the land that was his, that he could do anything he wanted with. And no imaginary Clan of dead cats would be able to do anything about it because they weren't real. There were no more rules to follow, no reasons to stop. The rain that pounded against his pelt, face, chest, was just that. Rain. No tears from an entity, no pain expressed by dead family. With his realization came a mantra that rang through his mind, over and over and over again. It echoed through him, as if being spoken before a huge canyon filled with nothing but empty spaces and lost memories and everything that had broken him. It's not even real. Nothing is real. They've lied to you. They've lied to you. Constantly repeating, making his head hurt in a way that felt good. Who needed them, if they were all liars? Who needed any of them? Who needed a stupid little thing like love when all it brought were lies and losses? He could see why Silentstar didn't bother with it. He was only planning on monarchy and dictatorship, and he could only do that if love didn't get in the way. Love for another cat, love for a silly little imaginary folktale that 'lived' in the sky, love for his Clan, even. He wanted to rule over all of them, just like the idea of StarClan was doing to everyone who hadn't realized this truth. This wonderful, terrifying truth that would open all of their eyes, would make them listen to him. Silentstar was a useless pawn of them. A useless pawn of a folktale, and that was just pathetic. And that was why it was just all so funny! A worthless minion of a fake dictating group of dead cats who were never coming back, never going to change anything and he was the terror of the four Clans! The one none trusted, the one none could stand up to! He could stand up to him, if he wanted. But why waste his time with a mere pawn of a fantasy? There was just so much he could do that was far better than blunt murder. He could open all of their eyes, he could give them the anarchy that they all needed, the freedom of leaving their kit's stories behind. It would all be beautiful and there'd be no need for love anymore, no need for something so unpredictable and blind. And they'd all thank him. A voice snapped from behind him, cold but familiar. His dark, deranged laugh faded off into an irregular, sudden outburst of a chuckle as he turned his whole body to face the intruder. He'd know that cat's face anywhere, with her piercing blue eyes that he looked back at with a new intimidating darkness. Skyleaf. His loyal medicine cat. A follower of StarClan, and therefore one of the blind. He could fix that, he'd just need to try with her, since those silly medicine cats felt such a connection with their beloved fantasies. "What are you doing so far from camp, Raccoonstar? Especially on this kind of night." Her voice was accusing, unusual for her. He could remember that sweet, sugary purr that she usually spoke in, the tone she used to spread the lies about a delusional colony of dead cats that lived in the sky. Another sudden chuckle--it was almost a giggle, really--escaped him at his foolishness in believing in such an obvious invention of the mind. His mental chant shifted slightly, but continued to repeat itself with an almost deafening echo. She's one of them; she'll lie to you. She's one of them; she'll lie to you. She's one of them she's one of them she's one of them OPEN HER EYES-- He closed the distance between them, getting uncomfortably close to his wet medicine cat. "I could say the same to you, Skyleaf. Or did you have something that you needed to tell me about the oh-so-powerful StarClan?" His voice was an odd, raw purr that sounded more frightening that comforting. Another outburst of a giggle escaped his jaws as he slunk around to her ear and leaned in close, his voice dropping to a broken little whisper. "It's not real, you know. You want to know what happens when we die? We disappear. Forever. We never come back, we never help our friends, we just die." He backed off again, his unhinged little laugh returning. She's one of them she's one of them OPEN HER EYES SHOW HER THE TRUTH SHE'S ONE OF THEM "It's so funny, isn't it?! All this time, I thought we were being forsaken, but you can't be forsaken by something that doesn't exist, can you! It's just a myth! A deluded little fantasy and we all fell for it!" His voice was like a shout now, sudden and threatening, and it faded back into a laugh that shook his whole body with the force. He could hear the rain so clearly, and the storm's thunder and lightning were ear-splitting. His pupils were thin black lines against his pale blue eyes that had turned shiny with a kind of fury that he couldn't comprehend. He didn't need to comprehend it. He knew the truth already. [/style][STYLE=float: left; width: 380;border: 3px solid #4a4d5a;width: 100px; height: 100px;][/style][STYLE=float: left;width: 250px;padding-left: 10px;font-size: 10px]Notes: boop boop broken raccoonstar Word count: nine hundred fourteen (bluh not even a thousand words >:I) Tagged: skyleaf and also smokeleaf maybe template by pianissimo of btn[/style][STYLE=color: #4a4d5a; font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 2;line-height: 23px;margin-right: 5px;float: right;width: 120px;text-align: right;]one last stand; one final demand[/style]

[Seafeather]

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
And our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground.
Shake It Out- Florence + The Machine

The rain. Making it harder to see. To think. To hear. It weighed down Skyleaf almost as much as her new knowledge. StarClan doesn't exist. I hate them. They hate us. They lied to us and the Clans. They don't exist. They don't exist. The liquid soaked her even more. It dripped from her pelt in little luke-warm droplets and fell onto the already soaked earth. It smelled like rot. The damp smell of the woods around them reminded her of the times she had searching the forest floor after a hard rain for new buds of herbs. She barred her teeth, she wouldn't remember that. She was never a medicine cat. She was only hated by imaginary stars. But you saved cats... Skyleaf clamped her paws over her ears. No she didn't! She was lied to! Those cats probably didn't even exist! All just a figment of her imagination! "Get out of my head!

[/i] She hissed to the voice.

She had just asked, no, accused Raccoonstar of being outside the camp when he replied with a more sinister laugh. Not like his crazed and jovial guffaws. But more...sinister. More crazed. More gone. The dark giggle lit up the air around Skyleaf, making the new found darkness within him almost tangible. It drove itself into her bones, into the fibers that held her together and threatened to loose her. She cocked an ear to the side, trying to get a better feeling at what had happened within him. But before she could even back up, before she could register what was happening, he turned around and closed the safe distance she had put between them. His face only inches from hers. His whiskers drooping, heavy with the rain dripping from their ends.

"I could say the same to you, Skyleaf. Or did you have something that you needed to tell me about the oh-so-powerful StarClan?" Skyleaf narrowed her eyes. StarClan. She audibly scoffed. She hated them. What did she have to tell this StarClan lover? But there was something in his voice. Another accusation. Was he accusing her for her once believing in StarClan? For once loving them? Another giggle escaped his lips. She held her tongue, he was speaking again. Coming around to whisper into her ear. "It's not real, you know." Oh, I know. "You want to know what happens when we die?" Enlighten me! she snarled within herself. Her eyes narrowed into blue slits. Piercing into his own. "We disappear. Forever. We never come back, we never help our friends, we just die." So that's it then? The reason why he's out here alone. He doesn't believe in StarClan anymore. They failed him too... He backed off, giving her a little more space. Skyleaf continued to stare him down. Everything he said was true...to Skyleaf anyway. Was Raccoonstar trying to test her? Trying to test the faith that she once held? Raccoonstar had never been like that. He always trusted her guidance, accepted her wisdom, loved her company...This was a complete one-eighty for Raccoonstar. Something had happened, and it probably had something to do with his she-cat issues.

She scoffed again.

"It's so funny, isn't it?!" He said again. But anger was rising in his voice. It came out as a yell, a yell to the whole of the Clans. To make sure they heard the joke that only he could hear. "All this time, I thought we were being forsaken, but you can't be forsaken by something that doesn't exist, can you! It's just a myth! A deluded little fantasy and we all fell for it!" His body shook with laughter again. Racking his whole body like a rag doll. Raccoonstar and Skyleaf were in the same boat now. A hatred for these stupid beings called StarClan, they didn't even exist. Just a fable that mothers told their kits to give them a false hope at a happy afterlife. A false hope that they would see their dead relatives and friends again. A smile lit up Skyleaf's face. Something that, normally would indicate happiness, but in this case, signifies the rage within her. The rage at the Clans for telling her such a lie, and leading her into leading them to believe in it.

"No. StarClan is nothing to me anymore." She hissed. She arched her back, the fur on her spine rising. But not in anger at him, in anger at the Clans, at StarClan. "They have failed me, Raccoonstar! They have condemned the Clans to death! They are a lie!" She screeched. "I know where you are coming from Raccoonstar," She eased herself back down. Trying to reign in her emotions again. To put on the facade of a calm cat. But she's just so unstable now. The sight of an herb leaf could set her off again, the sight of something shiny. The scent of a Clan cat. "They are a lie. We cannot believe them anymore! We can't stay with the Clans." She whispered. Her lips moving so fast it's a wonder anyone understood them. "They're lying to us. They're all going to die and disappear. There isn't anything left after we die." An airy giggle found its way from her lips. "We can't stay with them. We can't. I can't." She glared at Raccoonstar. Looking into his eyes and seeing her exact pain, her exact anger and understanding. They had found a common ground. A hate.

The rain continued to pour. As if it was actually throwing in the hate they were feeling. Throwing their minds into chaos. A mixed turmoil of emotions roiling in their hearts, a tempest of emotions threatening to launch her over the edge into insanity. But she couldn't let that happen first. She had to live out her life as sane as possible, and then die to prove the Clans wrong. Prove that their belief in starry warriors was a false one. She'd laugh in their faces once they awoke after death into nothingness. She'd tell them how they'd all been lied to, since the beginning of time. StarClan had no love for them. They couldn't love. They didn't exist. And she hated them for it. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

OOC: 1029 words! This is only the beginning for the insanity that Skyleaf is going to go through. The voice is bound to get worse. XP

[Raccoonstar]

[atrb=width,500px][atrb=border,0px,true][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=border-right: 120px solid #4a4d5a; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 10px 20px 0px;font-size: 10px] The leader of SnakeClan was drowning. Drowning in emotion, drowning in this torrential rain, drowning in the inevitable blue of his medicine cat's eyes. He was beginning to wonder if it would feel good to let go: to relinquish his struggle against these whirlpools of emotion and rain and who knew what else. He felt good enough already, what could be better than a little more pleasure? A little pleasure in letting go, of letting his claws and fangs and this new little voice do the talking. A little pleasure of death, of releasing his claw-deep grip on the disgusting and horrible maelstroms of life. But alas, there was still the matter of that one small shred of a conscience: the one that was keeping him from letting his maniacal laughter take control of him, the one that was keeping his claws caked with dirt and earth rather than sticky, wet, sickly sweet blood... ...Don't do it...don't kill... There it was again, that shrunken, weak soul-bit that was telling him what to do again. But what was the tiniest of rocks to do against the rushing river of madness? Nothing. That was always the answer now, wasn't it? What could he do to help save himself from this typhoon? Nothing. What could StarClan do to save what was once their representative to all the Clans? Nothing. What were his chances of recovering from this, this terrifying and delicious feeling of being enlightened by darkness--of having his mind sliced open by the sharpened claws of lunacy? Nothing. His mental voice; the new one, the one that laughed in the face of life and death and could show him the path to conquering both, chimed in with the last word, letting out a fiendish laugh that echoed in the realms of reality as his own frenzied voice. Oh, but the medicine cat, the StarClan believer...she was speaking. The words felt distant as they hit his ears, as if hundreds of fox-lengths were separating him from their speaker. They reverberated in his brain for a few moments before what was left of his comprehension abilities could kick in and decipher them. "StarClan is nothing to me anymore." Good, that was good. Perhaps she could hear the voices, too. The ones that sung of freedom from this ancestral slavery, freedom from the bonds of reality..."They have condemned the Clans to death!" Her hisses rang through him, shaking him into a realization that made him almost laugh harder. How could they condemn a Clan? They did not exist, they could not edit or change anything in the world that was beyond their own defiled daydream. A condemned one, a damned one destined to show its wicked veracity to all the cats...why, it had to be a real being then, didn't it? A being who saw the truth...a being who could wreak his glorious havoc with his words...a being with true power at his claws...true awareness...a being like him. Though his admittedly small feline body could not take much more laughter, the sound of his malevolent cackles amplified loud enough for it to be heard clearly and audibly over the cracks of lightning and near-instantaneous blasts of thunder. He was the condemned. The doomed. The annihilator. He was the one, and he knew it had to be him as soon as the thought entered his head. The laughing voice, the voice that was sincere to him, agreed with such vigor that the idea was implanted firmly into his being. It would be so beautiful, once every cat knew the truth...so magnificent... It was her next words--or at least, the next words that got through to his disfigured mental faculties--that made him straighten up to his full, threatening height from the savage laughing fit that had shaken him so. His lungs were seizing from the lack of proper breath, but he felt no pain...his eyes stung from the rain, but the feeling was muffled, remote. He liked it that way, this inability to agonize, this lack of worry and fear and everything else. He was still smiling, showing off keen and murderous fangs when the words registered. "We can't stay with the Clans." A few more words she spoke, though most were lost to him and the horrendous weather around him. A repeat of the ones she had conveyed. "We can't stay with them. We can't. I can't." Understanding washed through him like a cold, thick wave. It seemed like water was everywhere tonight: in his eyes, his fur, his thoughts, his emotions, his everything. Water was chaos, and he was chaos. Of course the reality would be that it would be everywhere. That it would unlock the truth within him. A toothed smile split the sudden stoic expression he had previously held. The one of trying to comprehend, of trying to feel the words and let them flow like that sickening wave had done for him. Another chuckle shook his already breathless body, a mere imitation of the raucous barks he had persisted in creating a few moments earlier. It was still as unstable as the rest of him, but it had just the slightest pitying tone of condescension. "That's where you're wrong, my little StarClan-defier. The voices don't want us to go. They won't let us." His unhinged outbursts of chuckling came in sudden spasms that shook him from head to tail. His voice rose to a shout. "Can't you hear them?! The laughter...the whispering truths! They know who to trust. They know when to strike! Don't you understand?!" And indeed, a chorus of whispers and shouts and laughter was roiling through every part of him, telling him the secrets he desired, solving the paradoxical problems he had gotten himself into, showing him how foolish he had been, how free he could be with their guidance, their words. His voice faded off into a whisper again as he mimicked the speakers in his head. He edged closer to the monochromic she-cat that was once his advisor and interpreter of the lying stars above his head. "Can't you hear...? They tell me to conquer. To control. We know the truth. We can rule the Clans. We are the only ones, and we can fight those who defy our sincerity. When their friends are dead and gone, when the blood spilt upon the ground causes no reaction from the heavens...then they will see. Then they will hear the voices. And they will answer them! They all will answer!" He was shouting again, and he slunk away in hopes of not damaging the other cat's listening abilities. He wanted her to hear every word he spoke. The laughter that had been drowned out by his declarations came back in full force in the time it took for him to breathe, for him to let the voices fill him up again. "...They all will answer...and we can be there to teach them. To show them the truth...to eradicate the lies from their poor, confused minds. And as their misled society crashes and burns around them...a new one can rise up. One where no one is lied to...or forced to believe in myths and folklore...a perfect place...the voices tell me so. They tell me everything, don't you see?" He could feel that little conscience voice, the one telling him to sheathe his claws, to hide his fangs, to calm himself out of this madness...he could feel it fading, its little power over him weakening to near-nothingness. The other voice let out a violently triumphant speech in response. He fell silent, shutting his eyes to reality so that he could hear it better. You can be the destroyer the destroyer the destroyer you can destroy the lies the lies the LIES! YOU CAN CHANGE THE FUTURE LEAD THEM OUT OF THEIR MEANINGLESS LIVES SHOW THEM DEATH SHOW THEM TRUE AGONY AS YOU HAVE FELT THEN THEY WILL KNOW THEN THEY WILL UNDERSTAND THERE IS NOTHING AFTER DEATH ONLY DARKNESS ONLY PAIN SHOW THEM THE TRUTH OPEN THEIR EYES LET THEM SEE AS YOU SEE LET THEM FEEL WHAT YOU FEEL LET THEIR BLOOD SPILL UPON THE EARTH LET THEM BLEED LET THEM DIE LET THEM TRY TO RUN AND HIDE FROM THE INESCAPABLE KILL THEM SAVE THEM KILL THEM ALL The voice repeated itself, over and over again. Screaming its mantra to him, firmly implanting the idea of what he had to do. To save them, he had to watch their blood flow. To save them from their lies, he had to show them the true afterlife...the absence of the afterlife, in this case. They had to die, they had to bleed and feel agony beyond all their worldly ideas of pain...and it would be beautiful, wouldn't it? He wondered, in his dying ability to wonder, if she could hear the voices, too. If she understood, this black-and-white cat. Ex-medicine cat, ex-believer, with her ex-sanity and ex-everything from her ex-past. He could only hope she did. He could only hope that a bloody harmony could be reached, that the vindicating light could be shared between them. But what was hope in this corrupted void of derangement and turmoil? [/style][STYLE=float: left; width: 380;border: 3px solid #4a4d5a;width: 100px; height: 100px;][/style][STYLE=float: left;width: 250px;padding-left: 10px;font-size: 10px]Notes: in which coon stops being lazy (for the moment) and raccoonstar continues to descend into madness Word count: fifteen hundred forty-eight Tagged: skyleaf but probably not smokeleaf template by pianissimo of btn[/style][STYLE=color: #4a4d5a; font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 2;line-height: 23px;margin-right: 5px;float: right;width: 120px;text-align: right;]one last stand; one final demand[/style]

[Seafeather]

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
And our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground.
Shake It Out- Florence + The Machine

The rain whipped. The wind sang. The trees moaned under the torrential downpour. No one should be out in this weather. It was time for them to take cover. The rainy seasons had begun with this onslaught. Yet, ignoring the dangers and instead thriving in them, two cats stood with each other. Whispers escaped their lips that were lost in the wind. Crazed laughs filled the air and made you shudder. The first cat, a tom, seemed as though he used to be "normal". Nothing about him made you wonder where his sanity lies...until he spoke. He spoke of voices and blood and...and death. This all sounded wonderful to the second cat. A she-cat, black as the night but with a splash of white on her chest. You could tell she was being unhinged. Her eyes craved the power that the tom was speaking of. Craving the sight of blood-washed paws, and bloodied streams and watching the Clans bow before her, begging to be killed. Oh yes, it would be wonderful.

She would watch them, see their feeling of betrayal as their old medicine cat told them that StarClan doesn't exist, and she was going to kill them all. She would feel their heartbeat quicken, the blood flow freer under their skin. She would relish the ecstasy when she clawed and bit. Felt her claws tear open a warm belly. Oh how silent death could be! It was wonderful!

A giggle escaped Skyleaf's lips. A giggle that sounded like a kit's laugh. It's not normal. Her eyes flashed as Raccoonstar, the first cat, spoke to her. Directing her thoughts towards himelf...and the voices.

"That's where you're wrong, my little StarClan-defier. The voices don't want us to go. They won't let us." Skyleaf's heart dropped. Couldn't leave? What were they to do then?! Voices...? Voices. "Can't you hear them?! The laughter...the whispering truths! They know who to trust. They know when to strike! Don't you understand?!" He shouted to the sky. Truths? Whispering truths. Yes. I want to hear. Truth. Truth. I think I hear them. They whisper of truth...StarClan is a lie!

"Can't you hear...? They tell me to conquer. To control. We know the truth. We can rule the Clans. We are the only ones, and we can fight those who defy our sincerity. When their friends are dead and gone, when the blood spilled upon the ground causes no reaction from the heavens...then they will see. Then they will hear the voices. And they will answer them! They all will answer!" It's okay... Skyleaf listened with awe. He heard the voices! They told him to conquer! Just lose yourself...don't be afraid. Skyleaf flinched. She had heard the same voice again...was it her own? Or was it the voices that seemed to resound in Raccoonstar's head? Listen to him. Spill their blood. Kill... Yes...yes she must kill. She needs to kill now! But she must wait. Raccoonstar hasn't finished speaking.

"...They all will answer...and we can be there to teach them. To show them the truth...to eradicate the lies from their poor, confused minds. And as their misled society crashes and burns around them...a new one can rise up. One where no one is lied to...or forced to believe in myths and folklore...a perfect place...the voices tell me so. They tell me everything, don't you see?" He wants us to rule them. Reign with him...he is your god now. He will be your lover. Your friend. Your confidante. Your murderer. Your god. Skyleaf was losing her own being. This new version of herself, Skybird, was taking over. Filling her head with dreams of grandeur and bloodlust. And she wanted it. The temptation roiled in her belly like the storm outside. She wanted to kill. She wanted it. The voices spoke again, of deceit and lies, pain and death, the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. She would be their queen. Their goddess. And she would kill them all.

"My god!" Skyleaf said and threw herself on the ground before him. "I will follow you! I hear the voices! They promise us royalty! Murder! Pain! Yes, yes pain! We must follow them! No one is to stand above us!" Laughter built in her chest. It burst out like popping a balloon. It filled the air, the peeling of bells. It was unsettling. Worse than the kitten giggle before. We shall rule...we shall kill...we will destroy...destroy...destroy...

"We will reform them! Into the perfect place that you spoke of! Dear, Raccoonstar! But to finish this we must be rid of our names! These disgusting Clan names..." She spat into the ground. "I am no longer a servant of StarClan, they don't exist...how can you serve something that doesn't exist? I am Skybird now. Not Skyleaf." Yes...lose yourself... "Just as you must be Raccoontail! Not Raccoonstar! -star and -leaf are not fitting for us! Soon we will be called Raccoontail the Powerful! Raccoontail the Murderer! Just as I will be called Your Lover, Your Murderess. I am yours Raccoontail. Just as I should be." The voices urged her on.

"I can't stay with the Clans, Raccoontail. Their belief disgusts me, and I destroyed the herbs. What a mess to clean up only to pretend again..." She hoped he would understand. But who knew? This new version of Raccoonstar was unstable. Just as unstable as Skyleaf was.

OOC: 892 word count...I have no idea why it's so low. -.-' Normally when it comes to crazy people 'n stuff I am always full of muse for this...I wonder why it's giving me trouble now. O.o

[Raccoonstar]

[atrb=width,500px][atrb=border,0px,true][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=border-right: 120px solid #4a4d5a; text-align: justify; padding: 0px 10px 20px 0px;font-size: 10px] The storm was singing. It was a terrible song, there was no doubt about that, but the downpour of rain mingling with the crashes of thunder, the blasts of forks of lightning striking the ground like a sharp claw does to a dead and fragile leaf, created a chorus of otherworldly melodies. The clouds sung death, the rain sung blood, the thunder and lightning sung of gods turned to ashes. It was a terrible song, and yet it was beautiful. Beautiful in its deathly howls of rage and despair, beautiful in the promise it held of annihilation. To the untrained ear, it was merely an omen of death, something to fear...but he knew better. He, the leader, the storm's death-bringer, the one who sang with the screeching winds, knew of potential. Fear was nothing and there was nothing to fear. Death was nothing, pain was nothing, eternal burning agony was nothing at all...there was only laughter. Laughter and madness and shadows and rain. That was all the world was, wasn't it? Just a bit of a storm, inside the mind's boundary and outside, too...and only those who could really see could get it. The voices told him so, and he believed them, as it was hard not to believe the truths they spoke when they were the only truths he knew anymore. He shut his eyes again to the tempestuous weather that reality had to offer, shut his ears to that horrible and wonderful song it screamed out into the night skies above him, just to hear them better. THE VOICES SPEAK THE TRUTH THE TRUTH THEY HAVE ALL LIED TO YOU THERE IS ONLY PAIN WITH THEM AND ONLY YOU CAN KNOW THE TRUTH YOU MUST BE THE ONE TO SAVE THEM KILL THEM SAVE THEM KILL THEM...do...n't...kill them...you're...their...lea...der...DON'T LISTEN TO THE LIES YOU ARE LEADER OF FANTASIES AND MADNESS NOW YOU ARE LEADER OF THEIR WORST NIGHTMARES YOU ARE THEIR DOOM-BRINGER THEY WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT AGAIN That little shred of light amidst the barriers of shadow keeping it from any real influence was still there. He was confused at its presence; shouldn't this...this rushing whirlpool of black psychosis have snuffed it out by now? Why did it still exist, tormenting him with the lying light he knew now to shun, to destroy, to engulf in black? It did not matter now, as now was not a time for him to dwell on the pitifulness of the remnants of his shattered psyche. His eyes, made so shiny with the fury the voices had brought to him, so sharp with the promise of death, of power in destruction opened again, watching the cat before him with a fervent intensity. She was laughing too, laughing like he had, like he was, for despite any breathing impairments from the act, his howls of deranged cackling could not be stopped even if he had wanted them to stop, which he did not. Everything was so funny now that he knew the truth, and when something was funny, he laughed. It was only the proper thing to do, wasn't it? His guiding voice chimed in at an echoing shout, and it was his voice, and it was dark and evil and wonderful. LAUGH WITH ME EVERYTHING IS A JOKE AND A LIE AND YOU KNOW THE MEANING OF IT YOU CAN LAUGH ONLY YOU UNDERSTAND, it spoke. And, obedient to what he knew was the only option, he did. It was wrecking him, shaking him like a queen shook her dead kit, as if trying to bring it back to life...and there was death again, and death was funny, and death was beautiful and held the overcoming blackness of the truth. And he loved everything about it. If you spill enough blood on the ground, after all, red cascades to black, just as everything did... Her laughter mingled with his in a chorus of such terror and melody that clashed chaotically with the rain's droning rush, the thunder's booming blasts, the lightning's cracks of impact. But this, this laughter of the cat he once knew to be his healer, his messenger of the stars, had words, whole sentences attached. The voices told him to listen to them, and so he allowed the laughter that had taken him over to fade, allowing her words to be heard over the rain, allowing the mental laughter to cease for the moment as he tried to cut through the choking lack of reality enough to understand them. "My god! I will follow you! I hear the voices!" He smiled, a ghastly splitting of jowl and tooth, a baring of the fangs that barely held back more laughter, a scream, a howl, anything. She could hear them just as he did, she could hear their message, she called him a god...she knew of his power, then. He was a god, he was the god of destruction, of murder, of saving them all from lies and pointless faiths and beliefs. He would be their killer and their savior, and she knew it to be true. A few bursts of a monster's giggle broke through the clenched fangs that were trying to hold them back, keep himself silent. But the glory of the future was nearly too much for him, the thought of all that blood spilling on the rain-wettened earth, letting all the red mingle with the soiled brown water of the clouds' wrath...such beauty, such hilarity, such insanity... His visions of the future that lay inevitably before him had kept him from the rest of her sentence, but his subconscious understood that she felt the ways he did, that the voices had infected her with their darkness in truth, in magnificent suffering and tormenting pleasure. Her violent bursts of laughter only confirmed his ideas, and he mirrored her expression of joy and madness and everything else with his own raw version. His vocal cords were dying out, but he would screech and howl them raw before he let that silence of falsehoods overtake him. Skyleaf was screeching her truths, the voices' truths at him...talking of reforming the Clans...making them perfect, making them bloody and enlightened, just as the voices told him...and his name, too. He had to be rid of his name, she had said. What was a name for the bringer of destruction? Was it Death? Was it Darkness? Was it Blood? He did not know, and he did not care. Let the cats, dying and dead, let them give him a name. Let them call him Deathbringer, let them call him Raccoonstar...the names had the same meaning now, didn't they...but still, she insisted on labeling herself, labeling him. Raccoontail...Skybird...such old names, and so many memories they held, so many...too many. They flashed in front of his eyes like tangible hallucinations, one after the other, with a furious intensity that made him squint his eyes shut as if a bright light had shone into them and flinch as if stricken by a whipping snake. He had been happy...truth and lies did not matter, he had been happy. With life, with the simple pleasures of hunting, of chasing butterflies and falling leaves, of training and eventually teaching, eventually leading...with having the simple pleasures of asking for something done and having it get done by a mass of cats despite their own beliefs, despite their opinions of his choices. They had worked together, they had been together, and yet they had been free. He had been free. Free from loved ones' deaths, free from the weight of the world. He had been free in his dreams, chasing a squirrel through fields of stars, training beneath the perfect teacher, teaching the perfect student...even during a nightmare, he found pleasure in waking, knowing it was only a figment of an overworked imagination. Even under the heavy burdens of a tangled web of love and infatuation, he could still find happiness in just the little things...the success of catching a bird in mid-flight...the joy in seeing a kit become an apprentice, an apprentice becoming a warrior...everything was bright and real, and there were others he had to look out for, others looking out for him. Who are you to abandon them? Came that conscience voice, and for a brief moment he felt something like guilt for all of this talk of death. But the moment was taken over by the bad memories coming out as a relief from the light of the good ones. One at a time, the fury, the laughter, and everything that had caused it came back in full force, and he found his eyes opening and his mind sharpening to focus just as the medicine cat ended her speech on having to leave the Clans, how they disgusted her. He couldn't understand why she was so disgusted anymore, he couldn't understand. The memories had sent him into a confusion, and he could almost feel the clouds of his eyes that signaled it. The voices repeated their nightmarish mantra, but it came to him in foggy shifts that ranged from a near-inaudible whisper to a deafening roar. He couldn't understand the shifts in sound, he couldn't understand the fight that was occurring within him, the conscience and the delirium, the light and the darkness...he was caught in the midst of a mental war, and he couldn't make any sense of it...why was this happening, why was the light so strong so suddenly? He felt like words were trying to burst right out of him, but they were not the voice's words, they were heresy, they were believer's words... "I am no god, Skyleaf." His face contorted in suffering, in struggle against the chokehold of the dark voice's wrath. He had used the name she had scorned. It was a warning that something was changing, something was happening to him. He was shivering--an erratic sort of shake that was more of a twitch than a temperature-based tremble. He was fighting himself, and he couldn't tell who was winning. He felt more like a battleground: like a setting, as opposed to the living, thinking cat he knew he should be. His eyes, despite all of the discord that was behind them, were wide and sharp with disapproval. Disapproval of his actions, disapproval of her condoning them, disapproval of his internal conflict. He struggled to keep a leaderlike tone, not to shiver in his words. Shivering was weakness, and weakness would give the voices a chance to strike him down, for this equally unstable cat in front of him to strike him down. "And neither are you. You are no murderer, my poor medicine cat. Do not dare to think of yourself...as such..." He was fading. He was succumbing to the voices, he couldn't use his light to speak anymore, the darkness was engulfing it... He was laughing again, just as the words had faded off, just as all the echoes were gone. How pitiful it was, for that little scrap of compunction to let its last possible effect on his psyche go to waste. A few words wouldn't change anything, a few words wouldn't eliminate the shadows, the madness, the beautiful void. How pitiful and hilarious this was, how pitiful everything was! To think, that just a few little sentences would change him, break him away from the new verity, the new actuality of life as he knew it...it was a hysterically feeble attempt, and he loved that laughing about it made it even more so. DON'T LET THE LIGHT TAKE YOU DON'T LET IT DON'T LET IT THE DARKNESS WILL WIN THE BLOOD WILL SPILL KILL THEM ALL YOU MUST SAVE THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM LET THEIR BLOOD STAIN THE EARTH, his genuine voice screamed at him, and his roaring laughter was louder than a lion's. HOW COULD YOU LET IT CONTROL YOU FOR SO LONG?! The voice was angrier now, and his laughter faded away, as if shamefully. The voices were angry with him for allowing his defenses to be lowered with confusion, and the voices were him, and so he was angry. He let out a furious growl and turned his head down to the earth, since the sky was not the direction his rage was heading, and he could not exactly look himself in the eye. "The light won't take me again." He was quivering with fury as he growled at himself, just barely out of the "muttering" vocal range. "It won't take me! I won't be clouded with more lies, do you hear me?!" His outrage had forced his head to turn upwards. It would have seemed he was yelling at the cat in front of him if not for the unfocused glaze in his eyes that revealed he was looking straight past her, into the rain-showered foliage beyond. "I won't let the lies control me!" He was shrieking now, at his weakness, at his inner blaze that was trying to shine away the darkness. He hated this...this discord between the two halves of his persona. He hated it. He was chaos, he was a leader, he was both, he was neither. His fury lost the words they had previously held, and he let his head turn to the sky, letting out a harsh, keening howl of rage and confusion and anguish, right in front of his medicine cat. The storm was singing. And so was he. [/style][STYLE=float: left; width: 380;border: 3px solid #4a4d5a;width: 100px; height: 100px;][/style][STYLE=float: left;width: 250px;padding-left: 10px;font-size: 10px]Notes: it is often said that whenever there is light, there is shadow, and that the shadows will always remain so long as the light is there Word count: twenty-two hundred sixty-seven (yesssss) Tagged: skyleaf or skybird whatever you want to call her now and also not really smokeleaf anymore template by pianissimo of btn[/style][STYLE=color: #4a4d5a; font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 2;line-height: 23px;margin-right: 5px;float: right;width: 120px;text-align: right;]one last stand; one final demand[/style]

[Seafeather]

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
And our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground.
Shake It Out- Florence + The Machine

He began shaking. Shuddering. Only the tiniest bit but it was enough for Skyleaf to see. My god! You are ill! He shuddered like the leaves that have fallen on the ground from the storm. Fragile. Unstable. Skyleaf's voices continued in their opus. Sultry songs of promises. Follow him! Urge him on...guide him...Murderess...

"I am no god, Skyleaf." Skyleaf's heart dropped. What is he saying?!" Anger built up in Skyleaf. You are not Skyleaf...Skybird...not Skyleaf...Skybird my Murderess...

"I AM NOT SKYLEAF!" She screeched. She bared her fangs and hissed, ears flat and claws extended, tail lashing from side to side like a whip. "I am not Skyleaf!" She screeched again, but at the same time a loud crash of thunder stole the words and whipped them away in the wind. Raccoonstar's voice became softer, as if fighting something that was going to lose anyway. He was fighting the voices that spoke of truth, of soundness, of a perfect world under the Murderer and Murderess! He must...not fight...us.

"And neither are you. You are no murderer, my poor medicine cat. Do not dare to think of yourself...as such..." Medicine cat! Skyleaf glared at him.

"Are you daft?!" She seethed. "I am no medicine cat! StarClan doesn't exist!" Raccoonstar's chuckles rose again. Filling the night with sharpened insanity. Just like the lightning that fills it and cracks, so does his laugh. This crazed laughter reminded Skyleaf of the jovial leader she once knew, but the laughter was hinted with darkness. Tainted. Blood-thirsty.

His laughter made Skyleaf smile. He is losing himself again. Don't fight it... He would still be with her! He would reform the Clans once more! They would rule. They would be one! Just when Skyleaf started to laugh with him, he turned his head toward the soaking wet ground and growled a low and dangerous growl.

"The light won't take me again. It won't take me! I won't be clouded with more lies, do you hear me?!" Apparently growling into the ground wasn't enough to contain his rage. His next screecher made him trust his head to the sky staring right through Skyleaf, as if he could see into her. "I won't let the lies control me!" Skyleaf smiled a toothy grin. He was definitely back. Defying the light that tried to claim him. Skyleaf walked closer to the mass of anger. Her delicate paws being sucked into the mud so she walked with a squashing sound.

"That's right...They are lies." She cooed. She let her soaked tail stroke the back of his neck and down his back. Hoping to ease some of his nervousness. "We will rule and enlighten. Do not fret..." Skyleaf closed her eyes, listened to the voices. They cooed to her too, just as she was cooing to Raccoonstar. "Do not fret. We will enlighten them from the lies that surround this place. With it's acrid stench of what they so call truth and loyalty. We will show them true loyalty!" Skyleaf's eyes took on an unnatural brightness, flashing under the light of the moon. Enlighten...

OOC: 509 word count. :/ I dunno what's wrong with me...