Contumacious Circean

A/N|:| Hey! This is a not something of the sorts that I usually write, but it is something that I have enough faith in to post here on Wattpad. This is inspired by the Warriors Series by Erin Hunter, though none of the characters, nor any of the storyline belongs to her. It was written in eigth grade by myself and a friend, out of boredom. I don't figure that she'll likely assist me in finishing it however, so I'll be doing the rest of the writing from where we left off. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

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Amber eyes gleamed from the shadows of the eerie twilight forest. His fur bristled in anger as he silently watched his prey. His raven-black pelt melted into the shade cast by the trees in the fading light, and the shadows danced like fire where the last of the light still shone. 

He tensed his muscles and anxiously kneaded the ground, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His tail flicked restlessly above the crisp mid-autumn leaves, and he slowly shifted his weight onto the strong, hefty muscles of his back legs.

His prey was a mere two feet away from him now, so close that he could smell its fear. The hidden tom could feel his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs, as the image of his fangs sinking into warm flesh, and warm metallic blood staining his teeth, ran through his mind.

The time was right; he sprang at the little animal he had been stalking. His teeth flashed like silver daggers in the mouse’s beady black eyes, and that was the last thing it saw. The tom straightened proudly with his mouse, and said over his shoulder, “Beat that! I told you I’d get more than you!”

A midnight black she-cat emerged from a patch of pale green ferns. “Nice catch,” she muttered, obviously not caring; and her deep violet eyes flashed darkly. He purred smugly and whipped around, hitting the she-cat on the tip of the nose with his tail.

“Crow you stupid mouse-brained tom!” she hissed, cuffing him a bit too roughly over the ear.

He shook his head to clear it, “You’re just jealous that I’m a better hunter than you are.”

“I don’t envy you because you can hunt,” she hissed. “Besides at least I can defend myself.”

Crow kept walking, “I can defend myself just fine.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes, “If you call cowering beneath your enemy’s claws defending yourself.”

Crow dropped his mouse and lunged at Raven, ramming into her. She reared up on her back paws and came down, full force in her blow, onto Crow’s back. Crow hit the ground with a thud, but rolled over to knock Raven’s feet out from under her. She had already rebounded, moving away from him to where she stood now, muscles tensed to strike again, and violet eyes gleaming with the fire of battle.

Crow purred playfully, “You may be good, but not good enough to beat me,” and then he lunged.

She sneered, accepting his challenge, and launched herself into the air, scoring deep gashes across his pelt, and blocking his blows which came much slower and weaker than her own. Crow fought back vigorously, slashing wounds across Raven’s lithe body. With an audible, heavy blow of her paw, she sent her pride burdened brother skidding into an old oak trunk.

Crow rebounded back off the tree and stood up shakily; he started towards her, but stopped in his tracks when he heard a large crashing noise from the forest behind him. Raven paused as well, with her paw raised to deliver another blow, and listened to the heavy crashing of footfalls growing closer; her heart beating against her ribs in a manner of undeniable fear. 

Crow ran towards her desperately, and shoved her into the brush where she would be unseen. She growled menacingly as his shove knocked her out of her trance, but a growl that echoed like thunder through the trees made her growl equal to the mew of a newborn kit.

The two watched in terror as a large black muzzle pushed its way into the thicket where they had just fought. The massive oil-black tom forced his way into the small space where they cowered, and loomed over them, leaning in such a position that the two siblings could stare straight into his darkened ice-blue eyes, and see the blood-red and ginger star that marked his forehead. 

Suddenly the tom gasped and collapsed, making a dull thud as he hit the ground.

<The bigger they are the harder they fall,> Raven thought humorlessly.

Crow slowly crept up to the dying tom. He watched the bloody ginger star fade from the tom’s forehead, along with his final life. Crow looked to Raven, and flicked his tail, signaling her to come. She approached with caution, as if she feared that the dying tom would spring to life, and kill them both with a single, powerful blow.

“What do you think killed him?” Crow inquired, solemnly jabbing the tom’s underside.

Raven studied the gruesome throat wound that cast a lake of scarlet around the tom’s motionless form. “Whatever did this,” she replied motioning to the wound, “And whatever it was that did this was, must be Huge!!"

Crow nodded his head in agreement, and then with realization said, “Well whatever killed him must be close.”

She shuddered at the thought of something bigger than this dead tom sinking its teeth into her throat, and her violet eyes took on a pale lavender color at the image this painted in her mind. "Let's go," she whispered, near desperation.

The forest was dead quiet and it gave Crow an eerie feeling of dread. The sharp, distant snap of a twig made Raven jump, and sent her heart pounding wild and unrhythumically against her ribcage. Seeing Raven jump made Crow come to his senses and say, "Come on, we'd better get moving;" and together they hurried into the thick cover of trees and brambles without casting a single glance over their shoulders at the place where the mystery cat had died under their fearful gaze.