Favorite Supernatural Character? Prefix::

Castiel :: Crumble or Cold.

Sam Winchester :: Soft or Wolf.

Dean Winchester :: Dust or Willow.

Jack Kline :: Jackal or Kestrel.

Bobby Singer :: Bumble or Snark.

Mary Winchester :: Moss or Wind.

John Winchester :: Jagged or Whisp.

Kevin Tran :: Tundra or Tick.

Gabriel :: Golden or Gull.

Lucifer :: Lost or Little.

Other :: Opal or Otter.

More Than One :: Moss or Timber.

None/What's this? :: Night or Winter.

Least Favorite Supernatural Character? Suffix::

Castiel :: cry or claw.

Sam Winchester :: slip or wail.

Dean Winchester :: dream or wing.

Jack Kline :: jump or eye.

Bobby Singer :: bristle or scream.

Mary Winchester :: moon or whisker.

John Winchester :: jaw or wish.

Kevin Tran :: tail or tooth.

Gabriel :: glow or glare.

Lucifer :: leap or lake.

Other :: whisper or frost.

More Than One :: tip or muzzle.

None/What's this? :: nose or tuft.

WHAT DID YOU GET?

I got Mosstip, and Timbermuzzle!

Mosstip is a solid gray tom, with only a small white patch on his chest; he's got dusky green eyes. He's a StarClan cat, and his brother is Timbermuzzle. Former Deputy.

Timbermuzzle is a light brown tom, with a white underbelly, chest, and muzzle; he's got dark green eyes. He's a Dark Forest cat, and his brother is Mosstip. He's got a scar running from the left side of his forehead, around his eye, and down to his chin.

These two died while fighting- each other, to be exact. Mosstip had found out about his only brother's antics and confronted him, telling him to stop this path because their parents wouldn't be proud. Timbermuzzle scoffed and told him to make him. Mosstip didn't want to, but ended up fighting his brother any way- and the two lithe but well-built toms went at it until they both dropped dead.

In a softly-lit clearing- dimmed by only the moon at it's highest, grass gently billowing in the breeze, at the moment housed a lithe, well-built tomcat in the middle, cleaning his pale brown paw. He seemed to be waiting; but for what? Who?

This was answered by the quiet sound of pawsteps, and it was clear this approaching cat wanted to be heard, because the sitting tom knew his brother could be deathly silent if need-be. An eerie smile drifted across the white-muzzled warrior, sharp eyes squinting. His back was toward the approaching tom.

"Timbermuzzle! We, we need to talk, brother." The other's tone was tight, as if he was nervous. Though, it also rang with some type of authority. He was the Clan deputy, after all.

As the pawsteps stopped just a fox-length behind the sitting cat- Timbermuzzle, as it was called out, did the dark green-eyed cat finally turn his skull to peer over his shoulder with his wicked grin. "Oh, I suppose we do, sweet Mosstip." He purred, the ugly scar running down the brown tom's face was ugly, more-so in this lighting. He had gotten it from his first scuffle with an opposing Clan, and still that cat who fought him regretted ever laying a claw on him.

The gray tom seemed to bristle, an obvious uncommon thing to see on the patient and calm cat, because Timbermuzzle barked out a slimy laugh. "What's gotten your tail tied up? Mosstip, you know you can speak to me. We're brothers- we grew up together, fed from the same mother, you and I." His sharp eyes flashed, and at the tone he was giving, a sudden, watery gasp exploded from Mosstip.

"We are! We did! You can't bring up mother now, not after--'' The words became stuck in his throat. "You- you--" The dusky green eyes of the gray tom began to glisten. "I will not- I CAN not believe you would do such a thing. Timbermuzzle, how could you do it? What did she ever do to you? I will tell the Clan, they will see you for who you really are!" He cried out, muzzle wrinkling in a snarl.

The light brown tom hummed and got to his slim paws, turned towards his slightly more well-fed brother, and leaned in close. "What will you do, dear brother? Throttle me, rip my throat out with your bare teeth?" He gave a pause, watching the sheer force of will drain from his brother's eyes. "Because frankly, I do not think you have it in you to injure your own flesh and blood." He cooed, almost nose-to-nose with the gray tom.

Mosstip let out a sound that one could only call painful, as he lifted a paw and unsheathed his claws, slamming them down onto Timbermuzzle, who yelled out and took a step back- head low to the ground and dripping red. The gray, well-groomed tom's chest heaved, eyes big and watery. The soft brown, mottled tom stood stock still, nose to the dirt. Soon, "Timbermuzzle?"

"You privileged, well-fed, piece of fox-dung!" The said feline snarled ferociously, head whipping up as he leapt forward with his claws outstretched. Before having a face-full of claws, Mosstip could see that his swipe had caused blood to flow into his brother's left eye, deeming him sightless in one. Before being rammed and shoved into the grass below them, he began to think this as an advantage. 

His brother had tumbled him into the ground, eyes firey and twisted as needle-sharp claws dug into his chest and shoulders, both toms panting. "Brother- would even you kill me?" Mosstip tried stalling as he spoke up, his voice helping his cause by trembling in fear. Timbermuzzle seemed to blink, as if considering, but soon he dug his claws further.

"You seem to have forgotten how mother died." The obviously insane tom sneered, and lifted his left paw to strike down- but before he could do so, Mosstip forced his muscled into overdrive to thrust up and throw Timbermuzzle to the left, hearing a strangled, angry sound as the lithe tom hit the ground. Mosstip got up- panting and eyes wild.

They ran at each other at the same time now, yowling obscene things at each other and taking hits and giving them, each bleeding bad by the time they split apart the second time, taking a heavy stance and glaring at each other- making sure no one had the upper hand. Mosstip gathered up a breath and spat out, a wad of blood and fur sticking onto a blade of grass below. "You'll regret this. The entire forest will outcast you. A ruthless killer for one, but a cat who murders his own mother just for fun? Tries killing his brother, for fun? Timbermuzzle, either way you are not getting out of this fight without consequence."

"But if you die, who's there to say what happened?" They began to circle each other, as the evil tom spoke. "I could've simply.." He took a deep breath and took on a trembling facade. "Oh, it had to be done, sir! He would've killed me if I didn't defend myself, I don't know what got into him..! My own brother, a murderer!" He gasped dramatically, whipping his head back.

"No!" Mosstip yowled and leapt forward as his brother's eyes went off him for a second, claws grappling his opponents neck and bringing him down, on his side. "Never, Timbermuzzle! Never! They will not believe you. They are already suspicious!" He hissed, nose wrinkling as he saw, and smelled the blood that oozed up around the claws digging into the light brown tom's throat and cheek- where he was being held.

A wet, strangled laugh erupted from Tumbermuzzle's throat, shaking them both. His eyes already looked glazed over, and Mosstip felt the overbearing sadness come with it. "Stop that. This is not funny in the slightest." His lip wobbled, recalling a day in the nursery when his brother had tripped over a little pebble and twisted his paw for a moon, and he had laughed and cried until the Medicine Cat came.

He had not meant for his grip to loosen, for his claws to retract just the bit enough to give the enemy an advantage. He had not meant to let his brother tear from his grip- which had no doubt rip a whole in the other's throat- and dig his broken jagged teeth deep into his own throat, right under his chin. A scared, gurgling scream was cut off as he was slammed harsh onto the grass. His paws flailed desperately, as his panicking drew the air from his lungs faster and faster, for it would've lasted longer if he held still.

Mouth gaping like a fish out of water for needed air, tears welled in Mosstip's eyes as the grip did not waver on his throat. He soon stopped slashing his claws into his brother's face and shoulders and let himself go limp, seeing the light slowly go out from above him. Though he did begin to see the faint flickering lights of stars gathering on the clearing grounds. He was dying, he realized as the first star-cat appeared; who looked awfully like their mother.

Suddenly he had no need to breathe, for it was like air passed right through him. He looked down, seeing his paws on the soft grass instead of in his brother's fur- his paws had stars in them. He spun around, to see his mother standing there, her soft fur glistening without any source of light. She motioned to somewhere behind him, a somber expression of her face. H somehow knew what it was before he even swirled around.

It was him, or well- his body. Slowly being released from it's hold his brother had on him- most likely because Timbermuzzle felt the body go limp. He couldn't believe his eyes as a pained look etched his twisted brother's face. How could he even think to be sad? He just murdered him in cold blood! A sense of warmth hit his side and he glanced over- his mother shook her head, then nodded. Had this been what she had seen as well? Being murdered by her son, then seeing him look saddened? What was going on?

His mother pointed. He looked over, and he saw a flickering figure looming over his brother's shoulder, grinning wide. It spoke harshly towards Timbermuzzle, and the pained looked on his face erased into something cold, emotionless. But his eyes still shown everything as he buried his nose into the fur of Mosstip's body.

Someone was controlling him. An enraged snarl erupted from Mosstip's throat, just as Timbermuzzle seemed to collapse from bloodloss- his throat pouring red liquid. The faded, but visible cat- outlined in red, may he add, turned it's black and dark yellow gaze over- and he recognized it as soon as he heard his poor mother gasp. The light gray fur, the white undertones-

"Father."