[meraki]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

It was time again, it seems his last incident with his trainee had been forgiven, or perhaps forgotten and he was now able to take on a new one. It was more of an annoyance more than anything, having to deal with a younger cat for several moons, not that he could really feel annoyed, but it could also be a very interesting time to study things. Young minds were always the easiest to mold for they were still growing and weren't quite so concrete yet. They were like a mostly blank canvas that could be painted into the most exquisite of masterpieces given the right time and the right tools and Hannibal most certainly had the right tools and all of the time in the world. However, if he grew tired of this, or if it didn't go quite as well as he wished, he could very easily end it. Hera wouldn't be here to stop him this time. And if he ended up being banished from the Syndicate? It wouldn't at all matter from him. There was nothing here anyways, nothing but shambles. A broken husk of what used to be a thriving, powerful community, now it was just home to atrocious loners. Perhaps he would leave soon. But not before he was done with this new trainee.
It was time to meet her.
Maple I believe is what her name is. She did well on her test I recall, had no problem in ending a cats life but that's truly nothing. Cat's believe that is hard and truthfully, it's as easy as ending a mouse. A shame that that's one of the tests to become a Syndicate member really.

Flicking his tail as if flicking his thoughts away, his fiery gaze fixated onto the cat that was now his trainee, before he was even there he was evaluating her with those emotionless, dead orbs. With each pawstep his claws glinted in the sunlight, his lithe, lean-muscles shape easily making it's way towards her with measured, precise steps, head held evenly and a completely neutral face worn. Today was not a day that he felt like trying on emotions, that could be for another time, now was the time to evaluate her and get a little bit of information. A good basis on knowledge on this young cat.
Regardless, the dark grey tom continued his approach towards Maple, his nose bringing in her scent as he got closer.
That's interesting.. Where did she come from? I dare say that's a very faint clan smell on her pelt.. However I could be wrong. It could be simply the smell of mud. I'll get the answer to this question through her training, but certainly one to keep in mind. And Maple.. Maple now that's an interesting name for a loner, though I suppose they always have varying names. But I dare say that that almost sounds like the prefix for a clan name.. They always do seem to take on those of some sort of naturalistic element, birds, plants, things of the sort.. Ah. Something to be pondered on at a later time.

"Greetings young cat. Might I inquire if your name is Maple? If so, I believe I am your trainer."
The tom's head dipped slightly but his gaze never faltered from her, they were fixated right onto her eyes, watching very closely for whatever might show up there. You could always get so much information out of another cat's eyes. Emotions, sometimes even what they could be thinking. And that's why emotions were dangerous. They could give away the slightest of things and with a cat like Hannibal, that could mean your demise.
You do not want a cat like Hannibal in your head.

The young calico cat was startled out of her head by a voice that she hadn't ever heard. A rather deep voice that belonged to a tom, middle aged most likely. It was interesting, how hard it is to perfectly imagine a new voice in your head you've never heard, but once you hear a new voice, it's not at all startling. Maple glanced in the direction of the voice, and her firey amber gaze fell upon the dark, ash grey colour of Hannibals short pelt. His own fire-like eyes fell upon her, seeming to show absolutely no emotion whatsoever. She blinked, and repeated his words in her head.
"Hello, and yes, my name is Maple. I believe you are my mento- trainer." She meowed in a false friendly tone, correcting herself quickly. She wasn't used to the slang of the Dusk Syndicate, and the foreign words would take some getting used to, although Maple had no problem with change, as she was aware of the fact that she was a mere speck in the clans that was there for no purpose, just like every other car in the glands and Syndicate. But it just so happened that some cats decided to do different things with the tiny amount of time they were given to live. Some waste theirs. Others, like those in the Dusk Syndicate, did not. Maple did not believe in an afterlife or so called StarClan. The thought of it made her feel her IQ lower. No, she believed in what was there. She believed that if you've got only one chance to live, you might as well accomplish something before time runs out.

Maple then turned her attention back to the new cat who smelled of the Dusk Syndicate, but with a hint of something... different. He seemed normal enough, although there was something about him that just seemed a little off. Like he was missing something, but a quick glance showed he had all limbs in tact. But this sudden knowledge of something nor being right made her curious to find out what it was, and perhaps she'd figure that out during their moon's of training.
"May I ask your name?" Maple asked in that false polite tone, a tone she faked when meeting new cats.