Closed Dark Forest she wants a coat made of my leather // closing the deal

[SABLESTAR]

Whisper my name to the shadows. One last step to trudge through, and the glory was his. Pride still swelled in Sable's chest since he returned to his followers. Bloodied, blinded, but triumphant in his success. They had set out in the darkness with one goal- to kill Hawthorne and return the flow of prey into their paws through the efforts of real leadership. One that wouldn't abandon them in a time of need, one that would remain strong as a pillar of order. One that wouldn't be too weak to do what was necessary.

With his last gift from Hawthorne not looking so deadly now, blood cleared entirely from his face and cobwebs secured (Cicada couldn't promise no evidence of scarring, sadly) Sable was ready. He parted from the muddy clearing in the cover of shadow and dull-leafed shrubbery to pull some distance. He didn't want this to be interrupted by any curious minds, he wasn't quite sure how it was all go either. If Fleecefur made herself known in the form of an apparition again, though, he wouldn't want them to see it. Her appearance had left even him shaken in the beginning, and the companion of dripping ichor that latched onto her was unsightly. But he had upheld his end of the bargain, and now was time to collect.

"Fleecefur, I've done as you asked. Hawthorne is dead." It's still strange to say, no matter how many times he has. Hawthorne used to appear as an unshakable beast. Especially so after their initial failure to overtake him. With his hopelessly honorbound meddling gone, he would rise now in the pointed toms place.

Maybe Juniper would rise where he had planned to, he thinks. Even after she had left him to stumble home, he still saw their threads of fate entwined. Wherever his claws cut through, she would benefit too. Whatever he ripped away into his possession, she could take from too. The remnants of Hawthorne's weak influence was sure to have sullied her mind from joining him that moment. Hopefully now with him gone, she would see reason.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• // @Fleecefur
  "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･sixty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[Fleecefur]

The marshland seems to darken, swilling upward like a thick rolling cloud of smoke. Sable sinks briefly, suddenly, the ground loose and wet as it seems to almost suck him down into it like a peat bog before the earth ripples unnaturally and it stops.

"Good."

Her voice is ice, cool, sharp, she is smiling as she seems to almost materialize from nowhere with her bedraggled pelt and dripping paws, the dark sclera of her eyes glistening as she tilts her head to regard him. Eyes scarred but no worse for the wear, he had fought hard for his victory of that she was sure and he had earned his reward though she doubted he would enjoy it as much as he thought. She could explain, she could forewarn, but she chooses silence as she creeps ever closer with her whiskers dripping black liquid and her blue eyes burning with an intensity that made her decrepit face more lively despite her reek of death and decay. Her coal black nose touches his forehead, a spark like static makes his fur prickle before it is as though he is seized by claws on every sword, torn asunder and rend to pieces in a millisecond; her simple touch makes him relieve countless death, nine times over he watches cats he does not recognize suffer their ends with each more horrifying than the last until it all stop in an instance and she withdraws with her head tilted upward and her eyes cold.

"You will now be known as Sablestar, though they may reject you they can not stop you, you will wear them like a trophy, a victory conquered. They will know you as a true leader, they will be forced to recognize you in time."

She expects that what she had done would be soon found out, that the blinking ethereal deities above will sniff out her ploys and eventually attempt to meddle, but it is too late now to take back what she has set into motion and it is enough to bring a smile to her face that is almost serene.

"Listen well, the clans have their own structure you will adapt. You will choose a second-in-command, your deputy to aid you. Your former colonymates over the age of twelve moons will be warriors, you will bestow on them a name like yours-two pieces of a whole, the second part chosen by you in honor of their loyalty and dedication to your cause. Your young under this age will be apprentices trained by your warriors, an honor to raise the youth to fit your mold, they will earn their true name in time but before then they will be branded as a 'paw'. The newborns will be labeled 'kits' until they are old enough to be trained."

Fleecefur's teeth show suddenly against the dark fur of her maw, blinking bright,

"You will need a cat who can heal your clan, one I can convene with more easily, who is connected to the dark shroud I bask in...I will pick one for you in time, they will come to you with my name on their tongue and the knowledge I have given them."

Her plume of a tail, once curled and delicately pristine is crumbling like brittle bark on a burnt tree, flaking away as she swishes it outward behind her,

"I expect great things of you, Sablestar. Yours is a destiny not even the stars can touch."

With a sudden burst of dark fog, expanding outward in a rush of wind she is gone.

BAA BAA BLACK SHEEP HAVE YOU ANY SOUL

NO SIR, BY THE WAY, WHAT THE HELL ARE MORTALS

• 

  FLEECEFUR

  
  — Dark Forest Denizen | Former ShadowClan Deputy
  — She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — A tall black color point molly with blue eyes.
  #b84d47
  

 

[SABLESTAR]

It almost felt too easy, and the brief moment dragged on longer than the instant reaction he expected. The pale glow from the moon crawled away from him into what Sable would only assume was thick cloud cover. But then a shroud of decay loomed around him, a force of sickly ink pulled at his paws. Had he done it right? Was Hawthorne's life not enough, did he fall into a monkeys paw and sell his own, too?

"Good." She never failed to make his pelt feel like it had been infested with spiders. She didn't spare him another word to comfort his paranoid coil, stuck in place by the very same anchor that clung to her. Burning umber couldn't break from the icy fire of her own gaze while she stalked toward him, and his jaws snapped his teeth together in a tight grimace as he braced for her to strike.

It is a wrenching pain that he had never fathomed to experience before. Eyes flash before him bearing the emotions of rage, fear, betrayal, confusion. The light in each pair fading and moving abruptly onto the next as he felt their final moments wrack through his body. Throats bitten, claws shredded through flesh. The taste of decay filled his mouth and left him nauseated, woozy when she finally pulled from him. How was he still standing? How was he still alive?

It took everything for him to hold in his stomach, swaying for a moment as the countless claws of pain ebbed from his body. She continued on to bless him in his new name. Sablestar- it was true then. The lives lost, the lives risked, the hungry bellies left in the masses, it was all worth it.

I won. Sablestar thought with a heavy exhale. Like the final piece had shifted in place, the final stone in place of the foundation for this new beginning. ShadowClan was his.

Listen well, she said, and Sablestar realized he had been focused on his paws when trying not to empty his guts in front of her. They lock sights again and this time he is unshaken.

"I will wait for it, then." A cat willing to convene with the likes of her, he couldn't confidently think of another right now. "Will you-" She's gone, back to whatever hellish cavern she resides in. He took in a final breath, preparing to return to his followers now.

At last, the stars could not see him.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･fifty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes