thieves [that come in the night]

[Goldenblaze]

<sub>A twilight had come and went, and finally it had dawned again. It's pink and lavender colors spread across the expanse of sky, ending only at the crags of Stoneclan and the hills of Treeclan. A light wind rippled over the thick overgrowth of tall grass. Suddenly, it ran into the back flanks of Goldenblaze and his fur fluffed up, flaring in the wind. Perhaps other had noticed the change in his behaviour, sudden as it was. Most may have thought it was the vengeance mission that had kickstarted the broken tom back into the game. Only he and Heartless knew. He didn't even tell Barbwire or Bane.

He surveyed the lands below, eyes gleaming in the half-light. Geez, Dad, wait up for me Hissed the irritable Barbwire, and he silenced her with a glare. She shot him another glare before looking over Risingclan with the same calculating watch. They remained hidden, on their bellies on a hill far from camp but still able to see. Their golden colors blended well in the tall grass, slowly dying in the winter cold. Goldenblaze had been here for over an hour, plotting quietly to the best entrance and exit, the habits of the clan, so as to make a clean getaway. Barbwire had just arrived, and Pripyat was sure to not be far behind.

She gave her father a careful glance before he turned his head to look behind his back. Where was Prip? The night was fast approaching, and he wanted the cover of the dark to attack the Risingclan cats. There were a few cats gathered near the center, but slowly dispersing. He could see the kits gathered around a small hole. Perfect, that had to be the Nursery. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to picture which cat looked the best for Boneclan standards. He had no idea what Bane's plans for these kits where. Goldenblaze didn't ask, his job was to carry out orders. Eat them; he doubted it. Kits were stringy, Heartless had once told him. [Thought not exactly bad, Barbwire once described to him.] Keep them for ransom; Goldenblaze doubted this even more. What did RisingClan have to give to them? Soulless was dead to him. Train them? More believable.

We've not been living in any one place for long. Kestrel has no personal qualms against us He explained to his daughter cooly, his voice deep and low. Therefore, our scent will be masked with the wild scent we appeared to have picked up in the mountain. It should make the mission easier. He rose to his feet. Pripyat would brief them on the way in, he was sure. There were reasons he wouldn't go into camp himself, but he certainly was useful for the mission. Come, it's getting late He told his silent daughter passively. We'll make our way there now.

RisingClan, here I come. There are reasons you don't take things that belong to BoneClan. They might bite back.</sub>

[Pripyat]

satan, satan, lend me a dollar.

The sky was all purple dark and rising moon. A cool night wind stirred the grass, driving foreign RisingClan scents up to the raiding party.

Pripyat, crouched where he was in the long grass, grinned.
Downwind. Excellent. He could tell that Kestrel was out of camp; while most of the cats down there were strangers to him, their leader's scent stood out loud and clear against the others. And it was fainter.

To put it short, conditions were near perfect.

He was silent for another moment, looking down at the RisingClan camp. He could see almost the entire camp from his angle--he was settled down on the high cliff above the nursery, hidden from prying eyes, a prime place for spying. One wrong step and he could tumble right off the cliff (a certain death), but if he was careful...why, he could see everything up here.

But it was time, or near enough to it.

The black tom shifted and backed away, winding through the long grass with such delicacy that he disturbed barely a blade.
He left no trace.

Once safely out of sight and hearing, Pripyat sped up, bounding down the steep hill and heading back to where Goldenblaze and Barbwire were waiting.
They were much father out than he had figured; out here they had a decent view of camp (nothing like Prip's up-close-and-personal view, but what could you do? they didn't know the territory), and they could even see an angle Pripyat could not in his high vantage point: the nursery.

He folded from the shadows beside his comrades, his blue eyes glowing. "Let's go," he hissed, excitement evident in his tone.

He padded forward, flicking his tail for the others to follow. His black pelt blended well with the shadows, and he felt safe enough, even out here in enemy territory.
"I will show you the back entrance," he meowed quietly, tilting his head so his words could drift over his shoulder. "It's very narrow; you'll have to move in single-file. And be careful. It's lined with thorns that'll shred your pelt. If it cuts too deeply, the RisingClanners will have a trail of blood to follow."

He dropped smoothly into a slink. They were getting closer. He continued on, "It'll be hard coming back through the back way in a hurry. The main entrance is guarded, and I'll bet there is a good deal more security now than there was when I came last. Then they had the bulk of their forces in the war. So you might have to spill a little blood to get away. It's almost a straight shot from the backway to the nursery; move along the cliffside so you can't be attacked from the side...heh, but I'm sure you already know that. Anyway, be prepared for soft sand underpaw, and a lot of steep places. There really is only two ways in or out of this place."

The lean black tom stopped, circling around to face his comrades. "Here," he murmured. He gestured with one paw at a tangle of bush and undergrowth that looked almost exactly like any other. "Just sort of push against it. It's hard to see until you're right up on it, but there's a sort of break in the branches here, and if you slip in, it widens out a bit into this narrow path. Thorns on both sides and all. It's easy to make a lot of noise in there, by the way. But a plus is that you can linger for a bit in the tunnel and scope out the camp without being seen. Scented, perhaps, or heard, which is why you can't stick around long, but it's a great way to get your bearings."

Pripyat's blue eyes jumped from one place to another. He searched his mind for something else he could tell them, but came up blank.
"I guess that's about it," he meowed, his voice hushed. "Good luck. I'll be nearby; if things so south, I'll be ready to jump in. Your lives are more important than our reputaton, or lack thereof." If his saving Barbwire and Goldenblaze blew BoneClan's cover, too bad. They were kind of a family, weren't they? As if Pripyat could be asked to leave his own comrades bleeding in enemy territory!

"Now...I think it's time."

[/blockquote]

[Goldenblaze]

<sub>They turned their heads simultaneously as Pripyat approached, streaking like a black rocket across the plains. It was true that Kestrel wasn't there, Goldenblaze hadn't seen her within that time he was watching, but many would still recognize the dark warrior. He gave a comradery type grin at Prip as they moved onwards, one of the first he'd had in a long while. Geez, Prip, what was it that you did here? He asked with a grim chuckle.

Before he knew it, they had reached a thick barrier of thorns and bracken. He surveyed the barrier with scrutiny, eyes shining. Barbwire, follow my lead He said with calm assurance. It was clear this mission certainly didn't get his blood hot and running. He was at ease and relaxed. Barbwire, when we get out, give the kit to Pripyat, i'll carry the other. You focus on getting out He commanded in a fatherly tone, eyes narrowed. He wasn't about to let his daughter lose her life following errands for Bane. Goldenblaze himself could, but while he was still living, Barbwire would take no risks.

Dad, i'm not a kit, I can take care of- Silence. You will do as I say, or you're going home for Bane to see to He growled, his threat certainly not an empty one. Now come, we've work to do He said softly, easily, moving into the thorns.

All that had passed within a few silent seconds. With his thick fur, Goldenblaze fared rather awkwardly into the thorns. His fur snagged, no matter how gracefully he tried to move around it. Barbwire had her mothers shorter coat, and rolled her eyes at her fathers clumsiness and followed him in. Still, with only a quiet hiss escaping his jaws, he managed through the barrier with more grace thought than a thicker built tom his size, and before long he was crouched behind the last obstacle of briars, surveying.

A few cats still lazed about the camp, tails twitching in the dying laziness. But, still alert as ever, as RisingClan was. A female lay outside the nursery, eyes shut, but ears perked. She was blue-gray and fluffy. Bluerage. Her sage eyes opened briefly to glance before she scowled, rising to her feet to retrieve one of her wandering kits. He took the distraction to press against the wall, making a beeline for the nursery, flicking his tail to signify Barbwire to follow. Silent and quick were their pawsteps, keeping to the shadows.

Quick as a mouse, father and daughter disappeared into the nursery. He cantered breathlessly into the narrow tunnel to find himself in a warm and almost stuffy den. He surveyed them. A kit, almost fully grown, lay amongst a motley of different aged kits. Prominantly, they were Bluerage and Kestrel's kits. The kit raised her head, her golden eyes shining. Goldenblaze froze and backed up slightly into her daughter and she silently swore as her tail was treaded on while she tried to pass up her father to survey which ones to pick. They didn't have much time.

Whose there. Demanded the kit softly. After a few breathless moments, Goldenblaze realized she was blind. Their scent was unrecognizable aside from the scent of feral wild, and she rose to her feet. Before she could even take a step, two kits had disappeared, and she stumbled from the nursery.

If she had sight, she might have seen Goldenblaze and Barbwire making their way across the camp along the wall towards the thorns, Barbwire stumbling slightly. She wasn't nearly as big or strong as her father, and the 2 month old kit proved to be heavy for her. Mom, Mom, someone was in the nursery! She called out, and heads would have turned towards the blind daughter of the assasin. Bluerage whirled around with a shocked hiss. At that moment, Barbwire had dropped the kit, trying to muffle it's cries with a paw. But the paniced yells of the clan would have drowned it out, and cats set to finding out what had happened. By the time Bluerage had slipped into the den, Barbwire had recovered herself, and Goldenblaze was urging her through the nettles, pushing against her flanks to move.

As Bluerage dashed from the den, only a flick of a golden tail moved the thorns. It might have been the wind.Kestrel's kits are missing! Search the camp! She demanded, panic in her voice. From outside the camp, Pripyat may have heard their dismayed wails. The kits would have been cut with thorns and bracken, and their cries may have alerted the clan by then. But perhaps they were too tired and stunned to cry out loud enough while Barbwire and Goldenblaze were still in camp.

Peregrine was pushed out unceremoniously to Pripyats feet as Barbwire dropped the heavy two moon old, struggling even that far. Goldenblaze pushed her out, Tiercel swinging from his jaws. He nodded at Pripyat, signalling go-time. He had gotten out as swiftly as he could with minimal eyes seeing them. The mission couldn't have gone smoother.

He leapt over any remaining thorns, snagging some blood and fur on the last ends, but he carried on unconcerned, almost proudly. And then he bolted out across the plains, escaping. The Camp may have seen three final cats bolting the scene of the crime, but as they were against the sun, colors would have been undistinguised. But Goldenblaze was taking the long way home, to avoid being sighted by prying eyes, a kit swinging from his jaws as he returned home.</sub>

[Pripyat]

satan, satan, lend me a dollar.

Pripyat grinned back. "Oh, I killed half a dozen kits, ransacked the camp, knocked out two warriors and maimed a third to death," he meowed, a chuckle in his voice.
But the time for humor had passed. It was go-time.

The BoneClanners pushed their way into the bracken, vanishing swiftly into the tangled shadows.
Pripyat watched silently, every nerve sparking, his large ears pressed alertly forward. He did not move so much as a single hair as he waited; motionless, silent, bursting with excitement and anxiety in equal measure.

Minutes. More minutes. It couldn't have been more than fifteen total, but to him it felt like hours.
Finally, the brambles began to rustle. Pripyat tensed, unsure of what he would see. Blood? Cuts? He hadn't heard a fight...
But to his enormous relief, Goldenblaze and Barbwire stumbled from the passage intact, and each clutching a kit in their jaws.

They were large kits, larger than he had expected. The black tom might have been three moons old!
Pripyat noticed Barbwire moving awkwardly beneath the weight of the she-kit, and leaped forward almost before she released it.

He snatched the kit up by the scruff, sharp fangs digging slightly into yeilding flesh. He carried her as delicately as he could, but his jaws were used to ripping and crushing, not for handling kits, and especially not for handling kits while running.
Still, while he wasn't much bigger than Barbwire, his neck muscles were strong from fighting solely with his teeth. He hefted the kit's weight with ease.

Then he took off, strides lengthening as he fell into a rhythm perfect for running long distances. He matched Goldenblaze's pace and held it, looking sideways at his comrades.
"So, it went well?" he mumbled around the kit. "Did anyone see you?"

From behind, he thought he could hear shouts of shock and dismay. Two kits had, hopefully, vanished without a trace from their nursery--just as a BoneClan kit had vanished from theirs. They will sleep in fear tonight, Pripyat thought, not without a little glow of smugness.

[/blockquote]

this river is wild.

The ground was flying swiftly by beneath him. The horizon jumped and shuddered with each of his captor's thudding pawsteps.
Wind. The screaming of his blind aunt, fading off in the distance. Unfamilliar scents, teeth in his scruff, confusion.
Tiercel knew all of these things as he swung from Goldenblaze's jaws, his mismatched eyes wide. He took in the strange landscape around him, the most he had ever seen of the territory of his birth--and he watched it fall slowly behind.

He looked around him in silence, his eyes falling on his sister.
His sister. Where was their other sibling?
And the cat carrying his sister: a lean black tom, blue eyes trained ahead, moving with long, powerful strides. Tiercel noticed twin scars across the bridge of his nose, and when the tom glanced in his direction, he caught sight of a verticle scar across one eye.
Tiercel was fascinated. It would be a short while until fear set in, even as he listened to the words of his kitnappers.

Kidnappers. Why kitnap him?

He wanted to call to Peregrine, but he couldn't seem to find his voice.

[/blockquote][/size]

[Peregrine]

Moving. Moving? What was going on, why was she moving? The voices faded from hearing, calls from around the nursery fading from hearing as she blinked, mismatched eyes wide as she looked around. Glancing up, she could just make out the sight of a black muzzle, scarred, and there was her brother being carried by a heavily scarred one-ear golden tom! A she-cat followed too, but Peregrine was more fascinated by the new surroundings. Where were they being taken? She, nor her brother, had been so far outside camp before.

…where was mom?

The she-kit squeaked, kicking her legs feebly once but almost immediately knowing she wasn’t going to escape that vice hold on her neck. Instead, after the small attempt, she hung limp and still.

Captured. That strangers’ words managed to work their way into her understanding. They had been kidnapped…but for what reason? They were still little, and hadn’t done anything wrong. Mom and dad hadn’t either, they were good cats! But more pressing, and what more seized the young cat and made her so deathly still save from the little breaths that escaped her muzzle…she was captured. She was imprisoned, like a caged bird unable to fly, unable to move and run like she dearly loved so much.

Perhaps it was more surprising that it was little Peregrine that gained her voice first, softly speaking out in place of the silence that had fallen over all, “What…what’s going on? Why are you taking us away?” It was a small voice, naturally quiet, but there was a note of fear and confusion burning brightly in it. Tiercel was okay; she could see that. But what of their sibling? Or Bluerage’s kits, who she loved and cherished dearly as if they were her siblings as well? Why were they stolen? The others, they weren’t…

Her eyes closed, dusky grey and wild falcon-yellow vanishing from view, and not another word escaped the little kit carried in Pripyat’s killing jaws.

[Goldenblaze]

<sub>Goldenblaze had no love for either kitten. This was the son and daughter... Of the one that had stolen a kit from him. His daughter. He almost grit his teeth in anger, but Bane was probably wanting these two pests alive.

His paws thudded heavily against the ground as he ran, Tiercel swinging wildly from side to side. No problem. Some blind kit saw me, alerted the camp. I was in the tunnel by the time they noticed. Y'know, we have Kestrel's kittens? He said from the side of his mouth, his voice slightly muffled. As for the kittens, he ignored them conversing, caring little what they said or what the did. As long as he had something to bring to Bane. If they struggled, though, he might accidentally bite harder than intended. Fortunately, they seemed quiet thus far.

But Barbwire, of course, couldn't resist bringing herself into the conversation, running well-paced with the burdened toms, eyes glittering dangerously as she stared at the two of them. You've no idea, do you? Of course RisingClan wouldn't flaunt their baggage, their darker sides She said, not caring whether or not they listened to her. She wanted some time to enjoy herself, and toy with them. I'm assuming you know of the war. No? I'm sure you've heard of it. Yes? Before your time she said conversationally, almost cheerfully, albeit the dangerous tone and look on her face. You know Soulless, i'm sure. Ring a bell?

She's my sister She said darkly. That's enough, Barbwire, Bane will explain it to them Growled the tom. His voice was neither cold malicious, just uncaring. And possibly something deeper.

It's not as if they'll escape, we'll kill 'em if they try She said with a certain nonchalance. Speaking of which, Can I eat 'em? No Came the firm reply. Barbwire shrugged and continued. That war? Because of Soulless.

RisingClan took what belongs to us. We're taking something of equal measure She said passively, ignoring her father's glare as she ran.

We'll see what Bane decides to do with you.</sub>

[Pripyat]

satan, satan, lend me a dollar.

"Kestrel's kit? Hm," Pripyat murmured, his pawsteps never faltering. "Bane will be pleased. They don't look it."

It was true; neither kit bore their mother's pale and gray-splotched pelt. And having not the time to look each kit in the face, Pripyat couldn't say either way for a resemblance there.

He was silent through Barbwire's monologue.
It wasn't Barbwire's job to tell them their history; Pripyat doubted they'd understand anyway. It was up to Bane to handle that sort of thing, really.

[/blockquote]

this river is wild.

Tiercel shifted at the sound of his sister's tremulous voice. He could hear the fear in it, and it infuriated him.

At last the little tom-kit found his voice. "Hey, lemme go!" he shouted. "Lemme go! Let us go, you bastards!"
He knew the word 'bastard' was wrong, but his mother wasn't near enough to get him into trouble...and if any time was right to use a bad word, it was now.
"Drop my sister, you assholes! My mother'll kill ya! All three'a'ya! Letusgo!"

His yowls echoed across the plains. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the black tom slow, glancing warily back.
It hadn't yet occured to Tiercel that these cats might be terribly dangerous. All he was concerned with was making them let him and Peregrine go--they were the leader's kits, they didn't deserve this kind of treatment!

And anyway, if he made enough noise he might bring his mother on the run.

He was too busy yelling and thinking angry, helpless, self-righteous thoughts to pay even the slightest bit of attention to the she-cat's words.
"Drop Peregrine of I'll kill ya, you sonsabitches!"

[/blockquote]

[Peregrine]

It hadn’t been long for her brother to find his voice, and oh lordy he found it indeed. Peregrine’s ears flattened tightly against her skull in protest of his words and her eyes opened again looking at him. What was he doing? Was he trying to get their captors angry, get them killed? Especially with language like that, their mother would be sending him into the nursery with no playtime if she heard him speaking like that! Of course, she’d not uttered a word like that, haven’t been fired up about something enough to even dare – but even though she passionately wanted to escape, to be freed from this damnation, she merely sighed, shook her head, and looked down at the moving ground.

While she hadn’t understood much of what the she-cat had said, and knowing her brother – in his rant – hadn’t been paying any attention; Peregrine listened to every word of it. Yes, she knew Soulless…she knew the she-cat quite well, actually, as she was their big sister. But she hadn’t known all that.

Peregrine wasn’t really sure whether to believe it, either.

“Bane?” She then mewed, realizing just who it was these cats were taking them to. But no…she had head that their mother had killed that beast in the Great War, before they were born! The little she-kit almost exploded it a fit of wiggling and yowling, much like the sudden explosion of a falcon startled into flight, hissing as loudly and fiercely as she could. They had to get mother! They had to escape, to do something! Because if they didn’t…

They were going to meet the Devil himself.

[Shadow Spirit]

Inky black commanded the sky. It was in favor of the feline species that they had such good night vision, for if they hadn't RisingClan's deputy might not have believed his eyes.

Just returning from the sunset patrol, he crept into the nursery to visit his children. He loved them more than his heart could properly bare...his kits with the she-cat who had taught him how to live again. Kestrel was so dear to him, and now the union of their love came in physical form, but...

Something was wrong. When Chasm got to the nursery he didn't see any of his kits. Their scent was all over the den, but the youngsters nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the brambles swayed and a black and white tom-kit fell at Chasm's feet. Recognizing the little bundle of limbs, Chasm sighed heavily. Here was Osprey, their adventurous and naughty son.

"Hey Ossy, have you seen your brother and sister?" Chasm asked, his gaze softened. "Don't tell me they actually followed you on one of your rule breaking escapades..."

Osprey looked up at Chasm warily, excpecting a firm reprimand for disobeying the rules...again. Though, his father didn't even seem to care about that right now.

"No...I haven't seen them at all since I went climbing in the thorns..." he mewed, starting to wonder where they might be.