crimsonleaf

[crimsonstar]

A wise girl kisses but doesn't love,
listens but doesn't believe,
and leaves before she is left.

PICTURE IMAGE HERE

names:
Crimsonkit, Crimsonpaw, Crimsonleaf
gender: She-cat
age: 23 moons
clan: RiverClan
rank: RiverClan and decoy leader

Summary:
Sarcastic, stubborn, negative, intelligent, anti-social, slightly egotistical, tomboy, may resort to violence where words don't work. Is often quiet, but transforms into a party-goer and hellraiser just for the heck of it at times. Crimsonleaf is a calico displaying the following colors: black, white, dark red, light grey, and bright orange. She can be considered fluffy but is compactly small, built for endurance rather than speed or outstanding strength of offense in a fight.

personality:
Few cats can boast that they know Crimsonleaf personally in any type of a relationship. She's a particularly anti-social cat that doesn't partake in many social affairs with anybody, even of her own Clan. Not often do they make an effort to pursue such a quest anyway; everyone is aware of her sarcastic, stubborn, and negative attitude. She's not someone that belongs in a high-class society, despite her mostly being quiet unless she feels especially certain that she really wants to start a fight. Crimsonleaf keeps to herself, usually because she doesn't care to get involved with those she deems inferior to her own intellect. She thinks you're an idiot unless you impress her. She is aware how this makes her appear slightly egotistical in the eyes of others; it's because that she, in truth, can be egotistical that she regards these opinions as meaningless. Rather she doesn't mind the emotional viewpoint of it, just the political side to things. Although she doesn't normally care about being seen as less than satisfactory to the Clans' standards, any bad opinions of her may affect her standing in the Clans. Crimsonleaf will make changes and put forth an effort where she sees fit, to level out the supporting and unaccepting sides to her current position.

Most RiverClan cats can't remember Crimsonleaf as not being horrendously stubborn and sarcastic. She just grew up into a bad girl attitude that could often drive her Clanmates to anger and annoyance in a heartbeat. Her independant style can be looked down upon as not living in the true spirit of a warrior, but she does not concern herself too greatly with these statements unless necessary to her benefit. If she plays her cards just right, she knows what she wants and how to get it, unafraid to step on some toes in the progress. Many may find Crimsonleaf offensive, but at her core there are many considerable qualities that can be admired given the right circumstances. Being stubborn and sarcastic can make you hard to deal with, and one might speculate she does better in individual projects than with a group effort. Of course, that's what her Clan would most likely say, but in her case the decoys might find her to be a decent candidate to lead them into battle should the day arrive. At least, she definitely hopes so. Crimsonleaf, based on her personality, is not likely to take crap from anybody because of this. Despite being quiet most of the time, her loud-mouthed and outspoken moments change the way you think about her quickly.

As anyone could tell you, Crimsonleaf is intelligent. This not only inflates her ego a bit because she knows it, but also is the one thing that may keep her from falling utterly out of favor with her Clan. It's somewhat of credit to RiverClan, since often they can be noted for their wisdom. Not everyone will claim Crimsonleaf is wise, but never doubt the fact that she can be crafty in a situation. It's likely she'll be doing everything in her power to trick or deceive you in some way if there's something she wants. Crimsonleaf prances on both sides of the scale, immediately being a fearsome opponent as well as being a fierce ally. Her noted intelligence causes others to either be untrusting or wary of her words, since she's just that type of girl. She likes to lie. She finds it amusing, whether you believe her or not. Silly kitty, why are you even talking to her?

As far as she-cats go, Crimsonleaf is not a flower. If someone didn't know any better, they might assume she is male if only to hear a description of her without clues to her gender. Whether it's just not that often she-cats act this way or that she's just a tomboy, Crimsonleaf is as tough as any tom. Being a "girly-girl" and fretting over her fur every five minutes doesn't please Crimsonleaf. Rather, she likes the heat of battle and getting as dirty as she possibly can. "Easy" doesn't interest her but she figures that sometimes there's no need to make moutains out of mole hills. She's got a tomboy-ish atmosphere around her that almost hints at a cat that lives for the thrills. It fits Crimsonleaf, some would have to agree. She hadn't been much for mates and kits except for that one time... But perhaps it was that one event that caused her to avoid a polite, sweet she-cat personality and instead just be a free-spirit. Honestly, she's a tough little she-kitty that one wouldn't imagine as being a mother.

One of the greatest things Crimsonleaf is known for is her fiery side. Her sudden outbursts and tendency to resort to violence where words won't work leaves her either starting fights or joining one, usually "looking for trouble" as the elders lecture her on without fail. She can enjoy a good party and likes to raise a little hell when she feels like it. Not the most respectable cat but tons of fun if you're willing to come along for the ride. Whether she has it all planned out or just makes it up as she goes along, Crimsonleaf is a cat that could drive you insane. The most accurate way to express this would be to say she's: "the cat you love to hate and hate to love". She prefers it that way, and finds it adds a little flavor to her life, making Crimsonleaf one regular firecracker you'll want to watch out for.

appearance:
Crimsonleaf is built primarily for endurance, a trait prominent in both of her parents and passed down to her. She has a sturdy structure, her legs not long but slightly short, made to trek long distances instead of the advantage of speed. It is because of this that she doesn't tire easily, making her reliable for tasks that require much dedication and time but don't allow much breaks for resting. She has powerfully built shoulders and hindquarters, genetically designed for considerable muscle amount to help her endure harsh climates and terrible weather. She's got some extra length in fur, sleek due to eating so much fish but meant for particularly cold winters. Her thickness in fur shows primarily around her neck and shoulders, and in her tail. However, she is a smaller-than-average cat so Crimsonleaf would be described more as "compact" than "large". In a fight, she plays better on the defensive side, waiting for an opening to attack rather than barging right in. This is, of course, because she can stand more blows than she can actually get in. Crimsonleaf focuses her time in tracking, something she's well-known for.

Like her mother, Crimsonleaf is a calico cat. Her base color is white, but it is not the dominant color in her fur. On this white canvas her legs are completely black, and her fluffy tail is black on the top. Along her back there are large splashes of black, dark red, light grey, and bright orange, leaving a stripe of white between this area of coloring and her legs. That is to say, her stomach and chest are completely white, with the exception of the back of her neck. This area is spotted with splotches of red and orange. Her face is mainly black, with a white muzzle alongside one grey ear and one orange ear. Her eyes, however, leave the she-cat to take on a chilling appearance despite the approachable enough markings of her fur. They're a dark red; a crimson, if one should make the connection. This is aided by her unusually long teeth and claws, and the rather negative scowl she may sometime be seen with.

history:
It is common for a girl to be taught to take caution when falling in love, and her instinct to do so. Her pride is that she does not give her heart away, but her pain is when she freely loves. Love is her vulnerability, an enemy she embraces. Crimsonleaf's parents were thick as thieves, each other's best friend and beloved mate. They had one kit, whose rich red color within her calico fur granted her the name Crimsonkit. They were a relatively happy family, with practically no problems. Life was blissful until Crimsonkit's third moon. She was intelligent, as far as kits go, but curious. It was on one particular night that said curiousity got the better of her. Crimsonkit had been awoken from her slumber by her mother's side from the light touch of fur brushing against her. Through eyes clouded with sleep, she happened to see the silouette of a cat slip out of sight. She may have been mistaken, but Crimsonkit immediately forgot her wariness and stood to follow the mysterious cat. It might have easily been a visiting cat to one of the queens, just to check them while they slept. But Crimsonkit admired a good story, whether it was true or not, so she decided that this cat was in fact not just an ordinary RiverClan cat, but something far more grand-- and more worthy of a good story. So the kit snuck away from her mother under of the cover of night, following the intriguing vistor that Crimsonkit was convinced of being a key character in some amazing mystery. Right now, she was fond of the idea of some cat with amazing powers having come to retrieve a mystical herb that would heal it's poor sick sister. Excited by such a story, Crimsonkit emerged from the nursery.

Yet the cat had managed to suddenly disappear. She looked around for any sign of the mysterious visitor, but in disappointment, was ready just to return to her warm nest and assume it had been nothing but over overly active imagination at work. But before she could turn to trudge back to the nursery, she noticed in glee the shape of a cat slinking away behind the warriors' den. Crimsonkit followed after as quietly as she could, arriving behind the warriors' den just in time to see the tip of a tail disappear into the reeds one or two fox-lengths away. Hesitant, Crimsonkit looked nervously over her shoulder. Although as curious she was, she had never ventured out of the camp before, especially at night tracking down what could turn out to be a wicked rogue. But if she didn't continue to stay on the cat's trail, it would haunt her for the rest of her life what would have happened if she had. Curiousity burning within her, she padded through the reeds. What fun this was! Ahead of her she could see glimpses of the cat through the reeds, completely unaware that they were being tracked by the great Crimsonkit! Stifling a giggle, she stalked her pretend prey further into the reeds, growing farther and farther away from the slumbering RiverClan camp.

As she pushed her way through the reeds, she noticed they were beginning to thin out. The ground beneath her paws had become less stable, now mud that resisted the pulling of her paws as she fought to keep walking forward. Finally, she broke through the edge of the reeds, facing more soggy ground and beyond that, the pebbly shore leading down to the lake. Crimsonkit completely forgot about the strange cat and how it had managed to disappear again, her breath taken away by the great vastness of the lake. She'd heard tales of how large it was, but never before had she seen it with her own eyes. Silverpelt gleamed on it's surface, rippling and shimmering as the waves lazily lapped at the shore. The rhythmatic slurping of the waves were like a lovely lullaby, and Crimsonkit felt exhaustion tugging at her consciousness. But before a yawn could part her tiny mouth, she remembered the cat. Looking frantically from side to side, she saw absolutely no sign of the cat. Not the twitch of a whisker or a flick of a tail disappearing from sight. With a defeated sigh, she stared sadly at her paws. Instead of mumbling how she shouldn't have gotten distracted, her spirits were instantly lifted once more by the large pawprints in the mud. They led in a neat line to her right, as if left especially for her to follow. With a excited purr, she scrambled along the trail, muddying her paws to the point of what would make her mother cry out in horror. She followed the trail of pawprints for a little ways, before coming to particularly marshy and wet land. A few trees stood here, scattered about. The trail of pawprints had suddenly stopped.

Frusterated at this being the third time she had lost sight or sign of the cat, Crimsonkit was intent on calling it quits. She prowled off back the way she had come, a little disappointed in herself that she had given up so easily. Yet when she glanced over her shoulder, the moonlight brought out fine white scratches on the trunk of a tree nearby. Nervously, she approached the tree. She crept beneath it's branches, peering up in slight dread of what could be up there. Within the shadows of the trees she could barely make out anything, until she found up high in the tree amber eyes were staring back down at her. In surprise she backed up, little eyes wide with sudden fright. A lithe shape slipped down the tree, jumping gracefully from branch to branch with what could only be described as gliding. Finally the cat wound itself down the thin trunk and stared at the kit, amber eyes lighting up with delight. It was a white tom with grey speckling it's legs. He appeared to be fairly young, perhaps the age of an older apprentice. The smile that graced his features was warm and welcoming, and Crimsonkit felt her fear be washed away by this tom's outward friendliness. The tom spoke in an excited voice, "So you've finally come! We've waited so long." Crimsonkit offered a small chuckle, weakly mewing, "We?" The tom nodded, tail swishing joyfully.

"We." he confirmed, as a few more cats emerged from the darkness, some reflecting the tom's warmth while others seemed to regard her with anticipation. Crimsonkit swallowed, mewing again, "Why have you been waiting?" The tom chuckled, and mrrows of laughter rippled through the assembled cats. Crimsonkit estimated there must have at least been six others, excluding the young tom. Confused at if she had done something funny, the tom stepped toward her and purred, "For your arrival, of course. This is like a party, one to celebrate your presence in our company." Crimsonkit smiled back at the tom, warmth flooding into her cheeks. She felt so special; these cats had waited especially for her! The tom dipped his head to her, introducing himself. "I am Traveler, and you, my dear, are going to experience a rare treat." Crimsonkit blinked, wondering if this tom knew she liked surprises and presents in all forms. "What is it?" she blurted, unable to contain her excitement. Traveler chuckled, whiskers twitching in amusement. He flicked his tail around in a gesturing motion, exclaiming grandly, "Why, you've been chosen to join our club!" At the sight of Crimsonkit's frown, he added smoothly, "It is an exclusive club of all the elite warriors. We train and teach you stuff that you probably won't be taught anywhere else, even when you become an apprentice. You'll get to do a lot of other stuff as well, like going on adventures and doing a lot of stuff your Clanmates won't get to do. You see, Crimsonkit, we are going to train you to be a great warrior someday, better than the rest of your Clanmates. They'll look up to you. You'll be special. Unique. Powerful."

Crimsonkit let all this sink it, puzzling over it in her head. She'd be special and unique, and her Clanmates would adore and respect her for her power. But most of all, she'd be going on adventures and doing things no one else in her Clan would be doing! Before she knew it, she was nodding vigorously. "Am I really going to be part of your exclusive club? Becoming an elite warrior? Why haven't I seen these other warriors around?" Traveler purred, responding patiently to her questions, "Of course you will be; why, you already are! And yes, we'll make sure you become a great warrior. But as for these others cats, they're not from RiverClan." Crimsonkit gasped, ears flattening against her skull as her fur bristled. "Oh," she breathed, looking around at all the strange cats. "I don't think I can be apart of this club." There was a spark of some unrecognized emotion in Traveler's eyes momentarily, but it vanished as he shook his head and reassured her with gentle words. "Don't worry, Crimsonkit. Think about it. Wouldn't you rather work with other Clans and cats than against them? This club doesn't need the Warrior Code, because here, we're all allies. So, comrade, you will be working for a far greater purpose: uniting the Clans in a mission for training the best warriors!" Crimsonkit felt her heart flutter with importance and excitement. She would be working for the greater good if she worked alongside other cats not in her Clan. It wasn't like she was breaking the Warrior Code anyway, although Traveler said there wasn't need for one if they were all friends. And Crimsonkit believed he was right. After all, her mommy and daddy couldn't get angry if she was making allies rather than enemies. And Traveler had even called her comrade! It was official then. Crimsonkit was part of this exclusive club that only she was part of. Traveler instructed her to go home and destroy evidence of her coming this way (since she didn't want anyone to find out about the club, did she?) while she promised to come in two night's time to meet once more with her fellow club members.

And so night after night, moon after moon, Crimsonkit would go out to meet with Traveler. Sometimes other cats would be there and sometimes not, but they always taught and trained her. Traveler was right; she did learn more than she ever could if simply taught just by a Clan mentor. Crimsonkit also came to know that her Clan wasn't completely perfect, either. Traveler's ideas and opinions made much more sense, anyway. Soon enough, Crimsonkit felt less like a Clan cat and more like a member of the club. It felt comfortable; more so right, in a way. When she was with Traveler there were no rules or boundaries, and the world was a perfect and peaceful place. So by the time she was apprenticed to a mentor in her Clan on her sixth moon, Crimsonpaw had become very different. She was slightly rebellious and stubborn, having become very independent and intelligent. Sometimes her views would differentiate greatly from those of her fellow Clanmates. She wasn't as naive as she was when she was a kit, so her understanding of the world around her had broadened and matured along with her. She grew very interested in Clan politics, enjoying a good debate now and then. No one was sure how this change had been brought about, since the only influences she had within the Clan were from loyal, loving Clanmates. Then again, that could be exactly what caused it and that it was just a phase she'd grow out of sooner or later. Throughout the early moons of her training, her mentor was impressed and slightly puzzled at how fast she was improving. Although he would definitely boast that she was indeed a fast learner, she had already known so much prior to training that he wondered where she'd be getting it all from. Upon questioning, Crimsonpaw suggested instinct, but mostly because as a kit she'd watch other kits play-fight and sometimes the warriors and apprentices show off some moves in the camp. It was a reasonably good response, and her mentor accepted the logical explanation without further questions.

By now Crimsonpaw knew that what she had believed to be a "club" as a kit were actually decoys. She was too old for that "club of true friends" anymore and that nonsense, which Traveler seemed to agree with because he had came out with the truth. Of course, Crimsonpaw had suspected as much. Not that she felt betrayed in any way by the decoys, and she still saw them as her "comrades." She'd come to agree with the decoys' views and felt her loyalty lie with them. Traveler would spend much time with her, laughing and joking about the things she had told him had happened in her Clan since she saw him last. He'd also train her, either perfecting and polishing the skills that she was taught by her mentor or even trashing some lessons she'd learned and teaching her differently. Traveler's training always seemed more efficent, and more personalized since he did it to secure her strengths and learn to work with her weaknesses. She liked his technique, and secretly knew that if she were to ever have an apprentice, she'd use a similiar technique. Of course, she shouldn't teach it to an apprentice that wasn't a decoy, should she? Training a cat that might one day not be on her side and making them knowing all her tricks was a disturbing thought. Traveler reassured her that they'd get to that if it ever came along. For now, she should focus on her training. Soon enough, Crimsonpaw regarded Traveler as a brother, since he was so friendly and hadn't shown signs of being bloodthirsy and power-hungry, despite being a decoy to the core. He truly believed the ideas of the decoys was the right way to go, and in turn, so did Crimsonpaw.

And then Crimsonpaw encountered something tragic. There'd been a weakness that Traveler had forgot. Something he'd overlooked. Crimsonpaw had developed a crush on another apprentice in her Clan, and she found herself torn. Her mind drifted away from training, even from the sessions with Traveler, admiring the other tom and devising ways to impress him. It wasn't long until Traveler got wind of it and confronted Crimsonpaw, but always with the same gentle and brotherly friendliness he always had. "My dear," he meowed as they groomed each other's fur one foggy morning. "there are certain things you must come to realize." At his tone of voice Crimsonpaw grew curious. Had she done something wrong? Traveler continued slowly, but not hesitant. She sensed he was choosing his words closely and carefully. "There are cats that build things, and then there are cats that break things." Crimsonpaw's eyes narrowed suspiciously, pulling away from Traveler's rasping tongue on her fur. "Just what are you trying to say?" she demanded, staring at him coldly. Traveler calmly looked at her, purring, "Let me finish. It's okay to be a free-spirit, but there are some things every cat should know. Especially you, little lady. Your Clanmates... not all of them are decoys. Should the truth ever come out, who will stand by your side?" Crimsonpaw flinched from his unwavering stare. He had a point, after all. But she was certain that the apprentice she admired, if he finally noticed her and loved her, would stand by her side. Wouldn't he?

"To give your heart away is to trust that the other cat will not break it. The world is scarred by broken hearts; what will become of you if such a thing were to occur? It would be safer to love a decoy. Or better yet, not to love at all."

To never love at all. What a concept, Crimsonpaw speculated, but nonetheless stood up and began to trot away. "In three days time, Traveler, then?" she called over her shoulder, watching the tom nod and sigh, "In three days time." Crimsonleaf bounded away through the reeds, careful to splash around in the streams for a bit to wash Traveler's scent off her fur. Anger burned in the corners of her heart. Traveler. What a jerk. Who was he to say that love was such a disaster? Love was what stitched the world together. Suddenly, guilt rested heavily on the shoulders of her conscience. She didn't love her Clan. If she did, she would be loyal to them. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she returned to camp. Looking around at the familiar faces she had grown up around, doubts danced in her head, parading through her thoughts. Crimsonpaw did not love. Finally, she caught a glimpse of the tom she so admired by the apprentices' den. Traveler's words had been a shot to the heart, which she'd bet her life on that he had known as such. Trudging past the other apprentice without a word, she curled up in her nest and let her troubled thoughts tire her to a dreamless sleep. The next morning, however, brought a surprise. She was assigned to her apprentice assessment with the same tom she'd been in such turmoil over last night. And there was only one cat who could have foreseen what happened.

They split up and hunted, bringing in a decent-sized pile of prey for the Clan. Later they were assessed on their fighting skills, settled against each other. The tom himself was talented, but Crimsonpaw's extra training had paid off. She overcame his skill with her own, and found, silently pleased, he was impressed. So were their mentors. Over the next few days the tom and she practiced together, hunted together, and simply just hung around each other almost all the time. It was a friendship that grew into more, and soon they were wasting their time to spend precious, affectionate moments with each other. Every night Crimsonpaw would fall asleep with his scent lingering on her fur. It soon led to the unspeakable: skipping out on training sessions with Traveler. As her warrior ceremony grew nearer, Crimsonpaw grew further and further away from the life she had chosen as kit. She loved him, and in so doing began to love her Clan. She grew closer to them, building relationships with cats she had barely paid recognition toward before. But the tom she had given her heart to grew unwilling. His life was barely beginning; he'd be a warrior soon and frankly, he didn't want to be a mate or father too soon. Fear and worry bothered him, especially when he spent time with her. He found he didn't want to be with her anymore. So, nervously and awkwardly, he confronted her. "Oh Crimsonpaw, how do I say this... I just want to be free when I become a warrior. It's a new phase in my life and I want to explore it and enjoy it. I just don't think I'm ready for such a commitment."

He might as well have dealt a fierce strike to her face. At first, she was confused, unable to comprehend what he had just said. It sunk in, inking the kindness in her heart black. Dark, colorless black. He had no idea he'd just thrown her to the ground and left her searching frantically for her wounded pride. He never saw the hurt in those dark brown eyes, or the scream behind the smile. Just a pretty face that nodded and purred, and turned away as she trotted off into the reeds. Once she was far enough away, she broke into a forceful run. Bounding through the landscape she reached the place she had always met Traveler at, sobs clawing at the air. "Traveler!" she called out into the darkness, again and again. His scent was stale, and she felt a sudden sense of loss. She neither belonged to her Clan, and apparently not to the decoys anymore. Crimsonpaw was, simply put, nothing. As the empty feeling in her stomach expanded to the tips of her claws, she felt a warm body wrap around hers. There was no need for words. No blaming, no "I-told-you-so's." Just Traveler curled around her tightly as her pain became his, their sighs filling the silence. He understood. Crimsonpaw was grateful for that. Somewhere in that moment he healed her, but it was her misfortune that her heart was healed in the same state it was broken. Or perhaps, her victory.

And Crimsonpaw did not love.

It was the morning of her warrior ceremony. Streamstar cried out to the sky, gathering the cats of RiverClan before him. They parted as Crimsonpaw stepped forward, red eyes sparking with excitement. She never knew what caused the drastic changes after that night. Perhaps it was the heartbreak that had spread through her body. Maybe the rising sense of acceptance and triumph. Or perhaps, it was just unexplainable. But over the next few days, a terrible ache grew in her fangs and claws, while her eyesight grew temporarily blurry. Her Clanmates seem to grow fearful of her, frightened by the new dark red eyes and abnormally long claws and teeth. She was known for her particular talent in tracking. Funny, that's the exact thing that had landed her on this path all those moons ago, as a kit following Traveler through the night. Traveler's words haunted her as she approached Streamstar. You are ready. As Streamstar greeted her with warmth and pride, she dipped her head to him, smiling. He would be her former mentor, after all, once this ceremony was over. Traveler had been right. She was ready.

Now that love was a foolish matter in her eyes, she focused on other things in her life. Providing for her Clan, perfecting her skills with Traveler, partaking in long conversations with Streamstar, and training her new apprentice, Reedpaw. He was apprenticed to her when she was thirteen moons old, but Streamstar had assured her that she was more than prepared for one. She agreed with him whole-heartedly, eagerly passing on what she knew to Reedpaw. Of course, what she had learned specifically from Streamstar, although she'd sometimes grant him some tricks Traveler permitted she teach him. If Reedpaw were to become a decoy, then he'd need to be well-trained. If not, then the less he knew was better. She was pleased, though, to find him excell at hunting and fishing. In surprise, she soon found she couldn't teach him anything else; at least, what she wanted to teach him. So Streamstar decided they put him through an assessment, and if he proved to be particularly gifted, then his warrior ceremony may be moved sooner. So when Reedpaw was eleven moons old and Crimsonleaf was twenty-one moons old, she watched her first apprentice be made a warrior with the name Reedtail. It wasn't too soon after she witnessed this "happy" moment, that Crimsonleaf was called into a meeting with the decoys. But to her surprise, there were much more than just the odd five and six cats here. There were many, excitement and interest shining in their eyes as they watched her closely with criticizing eyes. It wasn't until late in the night she discovered why such a large group was assembled. Tonight was the night they'd be appointing their new leader. She'd done well, serving them with great ability. And now, she was to be the new decoy leader.

She stood before them on a stump, dark red eyes illuminated by the crescent moon. Some seemed to accept her already, while others appeared skeptical or possibly even jealous to her new rule. She later found Traveler had some type of connection with the old decoy leader, but never found out the details. Long claws unsheathing into the soft wood of the stump, she lifted her voice to the dark sky dusted with silver stars. "Who will bring a new rule to the decoys?" To her slight disappointment, only a few voices responded, "Crimsonleaf!" Taking a deep breath, she cried out again, "Who will steal away the power of Clans?" This time, more voices responded. "And who is to wash the world in crimson? Almost all the decoys were answering her now. With an almost unearthly yowl, she demanded of her followers,"Tell me! Raise your screams to the skies! Who is the leader of the decoys?" Her eyes narrowed in pleasure as the roars rang around her. "CRIMSONLEAF! CRIMSONLEAF!" And so continued the chanting, bringing the new age of the decoys. It happened so strangely, she found herself embracing this freely. She wanted it. The power and strength coursed through her body, as she stared over the assembled decoys. As they grew quiet, she realized they were waiting for something. Orders. They're waiting for orders. In a voice that was surprisingly strong and sure, she stated simply, "Decoys are we, should we not heighten our advantage on the Clans? I will tell you what I want: power. Don't we all?" A few chuckles were her reply, and she smirked. "I want to be RiverClan leader." It wasn't something needed to be explained. They understood the definite advantages they'd have on the enemy if their leader was also a leader of a Clan. Crimsonleaf knew they'd make it happen, so she would not question the ways of how it came to be. Flicking her tail dismissively, the decoy leader returned to her Clan. Her soul was on fire, and anyone could tell that Crimsonleaf was feeling especially a force to reckon with as she reentered the camp.

As expected, it wasn't long before news of the deputy's death hit the camp. Even less of a surprise that the scent of a loner covered the body, and that there was little to no trail to follow. The Clan was shocked by the suddeness but seeming not to expect any less from a honorless loner. Crimsonleaf never cared to find out how the decoys had somehow gotten Streamstar to favor her for becoming the next deputy. Perhaps they hadn't done anything at all; she did have considerable connections with the leader, so maybe they had just figured she'd be appointed. Whatever the reason, Crimsonleaf was chosen before RiverClan and over the body of the former deputy to become second-in-command. The first phase of her silly little game was accomplished. It may have been sadistic, but Crimsonleaf thought it entertaining to witness the gradual, unnoticed happenings. It the domino effect; one order caused all these other events to take place. As time went on, Streamstar seemed to be growing strangely clumsy. He was losing lives to ridiculous "accidents" as they were called. First it was tripping into the water and getting weeds in the water tangled around his paws, holding him under the water until he suffocated. It had been Crimsonleaf to "save" him that time, freeing him and bringing him onshore. Other times it would be just the fellow member to find and save Streamstar after he lost a life. Once it was when he ate prey that had eaten deathberries before it had been caught. Another time was when he had stumbled into an unfortunate encounter with a badger. But perhaps the thing that was truly odd about it was that it all happened under two months. For the more observant cats things would be awfully "fishy" in RiverClan. Some whispered rumors of an omen; StarClan might not want Streamstar to be leader anymore. Perhaps it meant that RiverClan would face the same fates as its leader. These rumors were unable to be traced back to who started them, and some suspected Crimsonleaf. The bolder of the suspicious cats actually accused her once or twice. But she had developed skills in debating, and often put to rest the suspicions: just like always.

But no one knew that what they were really dealing with was a far cry from the StarClan. This was the beginning of something far worse.

characters: Hollowstep, Warpaw, Crimsonleaf
c-box name: Navigator

[cricketleap.]

Accepted!