GhostClan(Closed)

"That depends." said Belial simply, ignoring Amriel's presence. "What was that you were doing?"

"Magic doesn't work here, stupid." said Belial, sniffing her impatiently. "Are you a ghost?" She swatted at her face with her claws extended to see if she could hurt her.

Belial grinned, turning to Amriel. "Got one." she said triumphantly. Abruptly, she backtracked in a complete circle around Moth, then lit a leaf from the fire and dropped it. The ground around the prophet-angel lit up in a flaming circle. "Holy fire." she explained happily. "Now. What do you know about this place?"

"So...again, what do you know about this place?" asked Belial sweetly, smiling. "And no angel tricks, I was one. I can tell."

"Found out?" prompted Belial, listening attentively to every word. "How?"

Kaina froze in her tracks, fur rising along her spine. "Do you feel that?" She shrank back, shivering as the feeling of dread and pure death surrounded the little group. Mistypaw gave a little shriek and bolted before anyone could stop her.

"It's not us!" said Kaina, flattening herself to the ground as the feeling intensified.

"Having trouble, are we?" came a smooth, icy-calm voice from behind them.

The cat hesitated before replying, as if weighing his words carefully. He had a strange air about him - as if he'd been around since the beginning of time yet hadn't aged a day past middle age. "I am, in a sense...the same as you. Restorer of balance, escort to the world to come."

The cat smiled. "I am the father of all Reapers." he said simply. "I am Death."

Kaina drew in her breath sharply but didn't dare move from her position. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have believed him, but there was an undeniable air about him that made it difficult to come to any other conclusion.

Death chuckled lightly. "Let me ask you this. How do you know which souls to reap, and which to let live?"

"T-that's easy." stuttered Kaina nervously. "They have this aura around them...this feeling that lets us know when it's their time."

"Yes, and that would be because I mark them." said Death simply. "You follow my rules, and you don't even know it. Isn't that amusing?"

"Simply put, I'm not in the habit of spending my time socializing." said Death in a tone that somehow made the asker sound like a whiny kid asking for attention. "I have better things to do."

"Uh...so...why are you here now?" ventured Kaina nervously. When Death turned to her, she shivered and looked at the ground.

"As I'm sure you're aware," said Death, flicking his tail and looking around at the foggy moor, "if we don't figure out a way to escape the realm of the dead, it won't be very long until things get awfully tangled down below." He looked back at Ianuarius. "Without me, no one can die, you know."

(Meanwhile)

"HELP!" called a small, terrified, gray and white young tom-kit into the forest. He was near camp, crouching by a silky-haired, golden tabby she-cat. She was badly - fatally - injured. Bleeding out on the ground. All around her was the remains of a hastily-drawn salt circle which had been blown partially away even though there wasn't a breeze anywhere around.

(H&R)

"She's dying!" shouted the gray and white kit angrily. "You have to get her back to camp!"

The air around the area was strangely still and warm, no sign of the spirit that had been wreaking such havoc only moments ago.

The gray kit ran ahead. "Fernleaf's injured!" he announced, heading for the medicine cat den.