Stars Align (Korse)

[Bracken]

Crouching low, muscles tensing as she watched the plump blackbird ruffle its feathers. Her tail tip twitched as she crept silently, Runningbird had taught her well, birds had become one of her specialties, anything in the trees. Bunching she launched herself, feeling her claws grip the blackbirds wing and spine. With a crunching bite she ended its life. Grasping the prey firmly in her jaws she crawled her way down, tail first. Landing on the ground she sat, placing the bird near her forepaws as her tail curled around her paws. Lifting a forepaw she began licking it, running it over her smooth head.

She had grown nicely, she cared not for what others said about her or anyone else. The she-cat only wanted to stay within Shadowclan, her home. Her apprenticeship was nearly over, she would soon be a warrior, or the closest thing a she-cat could be in this society. Then she would be able to find a mate, someone like Crest, although most she-cats in the clan were pining for him.or her mentor. She hoped Runningbird would become a father, he would be wonderful. A very dutiful mate. She had not seen any of the toms Bloodclan gave, only heard tales. They seemed so opposite of her clan, her life.

[vanya]

KORSE!

when i wake in the morning i only need two more miracles to be a saint - everything i promised everyone i'd be, well, i just ain't - and only my heart knows my head is lying, lying - oh glory i think i see you 'round the bend and i think i'll try any pose and get there in the end

Korse had been roaming under the cover of darkness more and more as of late. Perhaps that was why he was out now, beneath the gleaming sun: to prove that despite the sneakiness of nighttime wanderings, he was essentially permitted to go wherever he wished. Or something. He'd been quite confused lately.

Running the Clans was difficult, though he'd never admit as much to any cat. He was grateful for Seafang and the other pseudo-leaders: they sorted through the foolishness so that he only was faced with the genuine issues. He had no such filter in BloodClan, and it seemed like everyone under his command was an idiot. It was enough to make him itch to escape their camp almost every day...

But he had business to attend to, even now. He slunk once more into ShadowClan territory, blending in with the shady landscape. Everything looked so dead, here...the stench of carrionplace seemed to leak all about their borders. Sometimes Korse wondered how they could stand it every day, sleep in it every night.

He was making a beeline for the camp when a scent trail crossed his nostrils. He froze, opened his mouth to better take in the scent...yes, he'd scented right the first time. It was Russetpaw, the she-cat he'd come to see. The trail veered away from the camp, further into the territory...without another thought he turned to follow it, slinking between spindly trees and coarse undergrowth.

After a while, he reached the burnt sycamore; its blackened limbs, never spouting new growth, cast a shadow of a many-clawed beast onto the short grasses. Korse settled himself behind a rock when he spotted Russetpaw's reddish pelt and watched.

She was hunting something, that much he could tell. She was crouched under the tree with her gaze fixed on something on a lower branch...and quick as lightning she launched herself up, caught a blackbird between her paws, and brought it down to the ground. Korse watched in interest as she gives a swift killing bite. Russet was a good hunter...if only she weren't a she-cat.

Though he wouldn't expect anything less from a cat whom he'd be betrothed to.

He made himself visible, then, slipping from behind the rock and padding evenly towards her. Flicking his tail, he moved to circle her, studying her with darkened green eyes. She was exceedingly lovely. He would have disdained seeing her with anyone else...Korse always did get what he wanted, after all. There was a fire in her he enjoyed.

"My, you've matured beautifully," he told her, stopping and seating himself across from her and her fresh-kill. He nodded towards the ruffled black corpse. "Runningbird's been teaching you well, I see."

Truthfully, he hoped she wouldn't keep such a thing up. It wasn't allowed, after all, considering she was a she-cat...but he appreciated her talent, regardless. She could almost be a match for him.

Almost.

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[Bracken]

Was ready to return to camp, her blackbird in tow. Sunhigh would be soon, the time when she was supposed to return. A rustle in the bushes and her muscles bunched, she would be nearly defenseless if it was a tom, and they attacked. Only minor defensive moves were taught to she-cats enough to get them out of minor trouble, but anything more serious and they would need a tom. Her gaze widened, amber eyes looking in shock as Korse stepped from the behind the rock. The leader of Bloodclan, what was he doing out here? He never came to the clans, they only saw him during gatherings.

A gathering was the first place she had seen him, his menacing power over the other cats was something many admired and feared. The other she-cats feared him, all knew what could become of them with him deciding their fates. She had stayed close to Runningbird during that gathering, fearful of looking up at him, his eyes something that could give nightmares to any cat. The she-cats told tales of him, no leader of any clan was as ruthless as he, or his deputy.

And now he was here, circling her. Her gaze narrowed, doing her best to show no fear, not allowing the scent to leak forth. She followed him with her eyes as best as she could. There was no way he could have known she was out here, merely coincidence. Sitting before her she felt the fur along her spine rise as he spoke, his voice smooth, if she did not know his nature a she-cat could fall for him. ”Why are you here Korse, you never have business with the clans…” she had been at a small loss of words originally.

”I need to be heading back to camp,” she said picking up her kill and turning, beginning to walk away slowly. Her senses still on him, incase he blocked her or pounced. He was much larger than her, more powerful, she would be nearly defenseless.

[vanya]

KORSE!

when i wake in the morning i only need two more miracles to be a saint - everything i promised everyone i'd be, well, i just ain't - and only my heart knows my head is lying, lying - oh glory i think i see you 'round the bend and i think i'll try any pose and get there in the end

Korse's emerald-green eyes glinted with amusement. This little she-cat was strong, managing to keep her composure despite his intimidating presence. That was good; impressive, even. A she-cat would need to be strong to be betrothed to he, the leader of BloodClan.

"As of today, I do." He narrowed his eyes as he looked her over...lithe, sleekly muscled, elegantly built, with a soft lush pelt. Yes, indeed, her training had treated her well, and prey was running nicely in ShadowClan from what the reports told him. He'd never particularly liked ShadowClan, as it was the Clan that fool Tigerstar had attempted to rule from, but it certainly wasn't the worst. Certainly not as bad as ThunderClan. That he was sure of. Firestar had been a sodden excuse for a scrap of forest bait, and he'd taken pleasure in watching Scourge score wound after wound in that kittypet-thick, fiery pelt. Good riddance. ThunderClan was in better paws now: Seafang and his mate Owlflight - who'd had Korse mildly interested for a time, with her beauty and cunning, but there was no other for her, simply put - were managing it well. The son of his own deputy Shriekingvoice had surely been the best choice.

But back to the situation at large. Korse heard her attempt at a dismissal, and his face twisted slightly in displeasure. Rising to his paws he moved to intercept Russetpaw's path, the fur along his spine rising slightly in a warning. He didn't like when cats tried to leave when he hadn't dismissed them.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Russetpaw," he responded, and his voice instinctively hissed around the Clan suffix. Foolish Clans and their ridiculous naming ceremonies. Trying to make their cats feel more special than they truly were. "After all, my business is to speak with you.

"Tell me. Do you know what you were really apprenticed for?"

It was vague and he knew it. Really, Korse loved being intentionally mysterious. Keeping others in the dark amused him vastly, gave him just that much more power. He could control what they knew and when they knew it, just like he could control their lives...perfection.

"Surely Runningbird has told you that your betrothal is soon?" Curl just the right lilt in his mew, and yes...he sounded almost surprised. He knew Runningbird hadn't told her: he'd specified as much at their last rendezvous. But that wasn't the point. He had to sound surprised, as though he'd been absolutely certain that the she-cat's mentor told her of her future that had been planned meticulously for her. Chaos. Korse lived on brewing chaos.

"Surely Runningbird has told you...that your betrothal may be one of the most important these Clans will ever see."

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[Bracken]

Rolling her eyes as Korse spoke, his business today was with Shadowclan, well lucky them. She would have continued on her way happily to be out of his sight, his boring gaze, yet he blocked her, his voice filled with venom as he spoke her name. Her tail lashed in annoyance, it was her name, her mother had given her that name, her clan names and she loved it! He could not take that from her, could he? He was Korse, the all-powerful leader of Bloodclan...

Speaking with her? What could he possibly have to say to her? They had never spoken until this moment, she was not surprised he knew her name, he seemed to know every cats, including the kits. How she was unsure, although he did have eyes in every clan, cats would do almost anything to please him, throw their queens at him if it would put them in better standing with the tyrant.

What she was apprenticed for? Cryptic, annoying, self-centered tom, she hissed mentally to herself. "To become a full cat of Shadowclan, what else?" she asked curiosity piquing her. Hopefully it did not kill the cat.

It seemed her thoughts had not even been processed when she felt him stab her heart with knives made of words. Her betrothal? But to whom, there was no one, or at least she could not think of anyone, perhaps Crest, he was available and many she-cats found him attractive through the clan. She would be alright if it was him, yes she would be. Her gaze became glazed almost, lost in thought, yet his voice of acid brought her back to reality very quickly. "Who then? If its important to all the clans and I don't see why me, there are plenty of she-cats born from cats very powerful and important to the clans, I don't see why me," she muttered more to herself than anyone.

Her claws slid out, almost instinctively, her body reminding her the cat can never be trusted. He was the spawn of evil, as were all Bloodclan leaders, they had to be, to rule the clan as such. His words as polite and surprised as he sounded could not be real, the tales she had heard had to be true, his cunning nature, manipulative ways. But not her, she would be smarter than that, it would take more than good looks to sway her. The rumors of she-cats flocking to him, wanting the great leaders kits were everywhere, she found it low.

[vanya]

Korse's mouth curved in pleasure. She was responding just as he expected...with confusion and mild annoyance. It always made it more fun when they followed the script. He flicked his tail, shaking out his red-and-black dappled pelt, and sat down as though he had all the time in the world. Really, he did.

"Who then? If it's important to all the clans, I don't see why me. There are plenty of she-cats born from cats very powerful and important to the Clans."

An amused sound split from between Korse's sharp teeth. "Nonsense, my dear. Every cat in these dear Clans has a purpose. You should be proud that yours is so prestigious! Show some faith." He tilted his head at her, offering a savage grin - teeth exposed, eyes narrowed into glowing green slits. He couldn't help but laugh to himself.

I am so funny. I am so funny...

"Let's play a little game, Russetpaw," he mewed then, lifting himself onto his paws and walking a circle around her once more. "Three guesses, hm? Who could possibly be the most important, influential cat in this forest, in Twolegplace...well, anywhere? Oh, and two of the guesses don't count." He chuckled a bit to himself. "As if there's any other cat!"

"Oh, I'm no good at games. I'll just tell you. It's myself, of course, is it not?" Korse stopped then, standing in front of her, manic-eyed and playful: a kit with cobra's fangs. Dangerous despite his light tone. "But you knew that already. You're very smart."

It's fair to offer a little insight into a maniac's mind. How can one sympathize, feel anything real, if they don't even know what they're facing? Korse's mind, when playful and joking, is blank. Utterly blank, clean as freshly fallen snow. He doesn't think sometimes, you see. His mind works separately, on its own, even if his cunning is still fully operational.

He dipped his head and tilted it just so in curiosity. "So, if your betrothal is so important, and I am the most important cat any of you will ever see...I'm sure you can piece it together, can't you? It's really quite easy, my dear. I'm sure you already felt some gut feeling of it. Why else would I bother myself with speaking to a Clan cat?

[Bracken]

What crap was he rambling about? The tom was being more cryptic than she had thought possible. Flicking her long tail in annoyance the she-cat waited, figuring he would tell her anyway. Perhaps his words would have made other cats feel proud, important, worthy, yet she continued to to feel uneasy, his words brought her no comfort, although she never thought they would. She nearly laughed at him, faith, faith in who? Him? She would never have faith in him, his predecessors had destroyed what the clans were, although what she was still unsure. The she-cat would have loved to see the clans at their peak, what they were, what they believed in, leaders as they were with a clan working together, not in fear but trust.

Yet this was not today, not her life. Returning to reality, the rude awakening as he asked her to play a game, a guessing game. She was about to guess Crest, until he made it obvious it was himself. Hissing in disgust her hackles rose, making the she-cat look a bit bigger, no where near his size, but larger than herself. Amber gaze narrowed to slits, his continued speaking, words of toying and games made her wish to run, yet she could not. He would easily stop her. Was it wise to run from her betrothed, particularly when it was some tom who had more power than any cat in the clans.

Part of her felt resigned now, that she must accept her fate for what it was, for the clans and particularly her clan. She was unsure what he would do to Shadowclan if she tried to run away, if he felt they may hide her. Now she began wondering, when does she leave? Her apprenticeship was nearly over, once it was she would have to go live in Twolegplace with him, the idea nearly made her wretch. She did not understand why her, nor did she care. It was done. "And what, you came all this way to take me with you? You could have sent one of your cronies or that healer to come and steal me away," she said flicking her tail in anger.

Perhaps her anger was towards herself, she was beginning to accept her fate. She could hear the shocks from her clan, the jealousy of many she-cats and her heart breaking. She was not in love with any cat, no, she could not be. She barely knew any, but the russet colored she-cat knew it was inevitable. Eventually he would lay down the law, give her her guidelines for wandering Bloodclan territory. Her skills would become rusty, her hunting would become dull. She would be expected to have kits, his kits. Russetpaw did not want her kits to be killers, she wanted them to grow up in a normal clan and live normal lives. However no, she could very well give birth to the next leader of Bloodclan, a thing she should be proud of, yet she only dreaded leaving her life and what little freedom she had.

[vanya]

It's fair to say that her immediate response of disgust withered Korse a bit. Not out of hurt, no; he could honestly care less, and such was his madness. Rather, she had proven herself unlikely to fall for his games, his follies that kept him entertained. And yet, this was what had attracted Korse's attention to her in the first place: her intelligence, the fact that she saw everything and was not blinded by obedience like her fellows. Clan cats were stupid, but she seemed more than a Clan cat.

"And what, you came all this way to take me with you? You could have sent one of your cronies or that healer to come and steal me away."

Russetpaw's scathing response brought the amusement back into his eyes, though his playfulness vanished as quick as it'd come. He seated himself with his tail neatly around his large, thorn-clawed paws, and gazed at her with the air of the sweetest lover. Even with his gentlest expression the savageness of his nature gleamed like ice under the layer of his friendly gaze.

"Oh, no, my dear. I am not here to take you with me." He tilted his head at her. "That shall wait until the betrothals are announced, of course. I can't be whisking you away before it's all official, can I?"

Oops. He'd let slip a tiny detail, the fact that this betrothal was not set in stone quite yet despite his role as leader. That was Gypsy's job, to cement his word. However he paid no mind to that; it's not as though Russetpaw could do anything with that knowledge.

"I figured I'd give you fair warning," he continued, flicking his tail in the dusty earth. A cloud of grey rose between them before settling onto the ground again. "Not many receive that privilege. You should be grateful."

Oh, so many things she should be! Korse couldn't help but feel disappointment at her cool responses that quashed his gaming, yet it was a small price to pay. He would have her soon, and then everything he'd ever wished for would be in his control once more.

Still, there was nothing but time left. He'd planned it all so perfectly, the entire scam complete, ready to come into bloom like trees in newleaf. Knowing this pleased Korse, and may have even softened the perpetual glare of his gaze.

It wasn't that he didn't care for Russetpaw; he did, as much was possible for him. It was that which caused him the most trouble: he could not care at all. He was simply sociopathic and his conscience was nonexistent. Still, with the little bit of emotion he could feel in purest form, he'd developed a fondness for the sharp, quick-witted she-cat. And she would be his, as all his fondnesses were.