s m i l e for my n i g h t m a r e s

[Samira]

The cold moonlight shone softly off the dark silver-tipped fur as the shadowed form slid through the stunted trees. A solitary figure, silent and lithe, never in the same place for more than a moment. She heard the distant call of some bird and thought how lovely that bird might taste. Plump and juicy, warm with fresh-gone life. She licked her lips. All the other cats were sleeping in their dens, dead to the world. She liked to wander at night, feeling the power of being one of the few creatures alive and awake in the darkness. She looked up and the silver crescent set in the darkness high above and she allowed herself to purr softly. These were some of her most cherished moments, these times when she had nothing to think about and nothing to do but soak in the silence and night-breath of the world, while all the rest lay unconscious in their hollows. Perhaps tonight she would find something to eat. It wasn't something that happened often, but once in a while - once in a long while - she would find some small creature still awake and running, some creature who thought it was safe from her predatory instincts, silent paws, and lethal claws. Oh, the pity she might feel for the poor helpless victims of her hunger and sadism. Oh, the pity she did not feel. Anything stupid enough or feeble enough to be caught and killed so easily, almost as an afterthought, deserved whatever it got. That went for cats as well. If they couldn't take care of themselves, keep out of danger and fight it off when it came, death might have them. StarClan, the StarClan that might or might not exist, and little good it did the world - StarClan could have any such cats. They could breathe their last, watch the world they knew fade to blackness and oblivion, and it was no more or less than what they merited for such stupidity or weakness.

Through the shadows, winding round the trees, on she went. She had no purpose, no direction. Her thoughts could wander or lie silent; she hadn't any preference. By dawn she would be back with the rest of the cats, letting them feel her icy glance, reveling in the power she held over them. By dawn she would be bathed in sunlight and surrounded by her inferiors. But now... now she slid through the shadows and silver moonlight.

[Hornswaggler]

((-does the I POSTED dance- Be proud of me and my computer!!! I actually got one to go through!!))

Yellow eyes glistened in the light of the moon as a rather small orange tabby crept through the dense brush. Tail up, Shortstar glanced towards the glowing orb in the sky, letting his lip draw back slightly. If it were still in practice, the Gathering would have been held rather soon. Though he had only attended once, as a young apprentice, the tom thought the meeting as a waste of time. Why would he want any other Clan to know the business of his? Snorting, he paused for a moment to take in the night's scents. It wasn't often that he came out so late, but for some reason or other, his brain refused to sleep. Most cats would be wary of coming into the dark shadows alone, but it was second nature to him. Shortstar practically lived in the shadows, both literally and in a figurative sense. Glancing over his shoulder, the tom could spot the thick thorns that gave a wall to his camp, some of the tallest bushes in the area. With a smirk, he trotted on, running a list of his cats through his head. Most of them shared the normal BrushClan attitude...though there were a few oddballs, as always. They were closely watched, in case any thoughts of betrayal crossed their minds. Shrugging the thought off, Shortstar raised his muzzle again, jaws parted slightly as he caught the breeze. The tom's eyes narrowed instantly at the smell. Another cat was out here, though from this distance, he couldn't tell who. It could be PineClan, or even SaltClan, though he doubted the latter would be bold enough to try anything. Lowering his tail, he broke into a quick trot, careful to let his paws fall lightly. Whoever it was, be it 'friend' or foe, they wouldn't go unchallenged.
Weaving through the thick bushes, Shortstar slowed as he approached the other cat, ears pricked for any sounds. They seemed to be on the move, though not in a huge rush, and so far, headed away from the BrushClan camp. Yellow eyes in bright slits, he slid quietly around one final scrubby bush, teeth already bared in a snarl. As the moonlight showed the other, however, the snarl dropped, replaced by his usual indifferent look. "Witheredhollow." The tom greeted his sister with a simple, cold comment. "Out for a moon-high snack, are we? I'd expect you, of all cats, would prefer to avoid the brightness of the waning moon."

(Fixed the moon things. x3)

[Samira]

((I'm quite proud of you. I also posted in SilverShadow - you should MAKE A BIO FOR THOMAS and post. =))
ooc;; if you look at my post carefully, you'll see that I mentioned the moon as being a crescent? You might like to modify that in yours?

bic::
Cool eyes appraised the cat before her. She did not feel affection for her brother, in any natural sense of the word. In a way there was a sort of loyalty within her; they were blood-kin, after all. She felt some pride, most certainly, in his position; pride in the power it gave her. She enjoyed the benefits of his position, and of her relation to him. But she might kill him as easily as she might kill a mouse or an enemy warrior if he ever threatened her, if he ever became less useful, or a burden in any way.

"Shortstar," she greeted in return. "You are out late." She was often out in the darkness, the black shadows and silvery moonlit haunts. She had, she felt, a right to be here. She had in a way laid a prior claim to the dark hours of the hushed night. He, on the other hand, was an intruder on the solitude and silent shades that drifted under the cold moon. Of the two of them, he was the interloper, with no right to question her possession of this dark stillness called night.

ooc;; wow. short post. sorry.