Phantom Streak

Name: Phantom Streak AKA "Monkey's Paw"

Gender: Male (he/him)

Rank: Black market broker

Clan: Shattered StoneClan

Description: Dominant white [genetically fawn classic tabby]

Age: He'll never tell

Edits: [NR] Accessory, scars, weight; [C] sclera

color, shorter tail, whiskers, no pupil; [UC] heterochromia, unnatural eye color; [R] polydactyl, missing ear, folded ears

"...And that's why my only crime was loving too much."

A moment passed.

"Kill him. Then tear out his claws so even his accursed ghost cannot filch anything from The Stones ever again."

"Now, Granite, don't be so hasty!" The white cat drawled, though perhaps a whisker too quickly to be considered calm. "We can work out a deal, I know we can. Now, it is an unfortunate truth that that mouse has, regrettably, already become my supper. But I have something perhaps even more valuable than a scrawny little Mus Musculus could offer your dear clowder. A cure for poor, dear Copperhead's infection."

The normally stone-faced rogue leader, taken aback by hearing his own name recited to him from the mouth of a stranger, was visibly shocked by the cat's suggestion. How had he learned of Copperhead's injury and the resulting would that no amount of rest would cure?

With a flash of his mitted paw, Phantom Streak produced a small white vet-stone. "This will heal her. But all cures come with a price. I deal in secrets," the itinerant charlatan smirked, his multicolored eyes seeming to spin like slot machines in Granite's cold gaze. "What will you give me in return?"

"I'll give you this, you foxheart!" Cottonmouth bellowed as he lunged towards the stranger, snapping his big jaws wildly as Phantom Streak vanished the pill again with an inscrutable sleight of hand. He was not fast enough, however, to dodge out of the way as Cottonmouth lunged not for the polydactyl's outstretched paw, but for his left ear. Phantom Streak drew in his breath with a hiss as the much larger cat bowled him over, gouging a chunk out of the ear as he went.

"Ah ah ah..." Phantom Streak grunted, blood dripping down the side of his face and into his eye, "That's not a polite way to treat a new business partner, is it?"

He stared fixedly over Cottonmouth's shoulder, and the rogue enforcer turned his head in confusion just as Granite opened his mouth to shout, "Stop!"

Phantom Streak took the opportunity to slither out of Cottonmouth's grasp as Granite continued, "Cottonmouth, stand down! We can't afford more injuries right now. I..." His normally steely voice wavered imperceptibly as he studied his follower's desperate face. "I'm going to hear him out. You--"

"Phantom Streak," the visitor chimed a moment too soon, having quickly groomed the blood out of his fur."

"Phantom Streak, then," Granite snapped. "Come with me."

Phantom Streak, his white fur now entirely clean, winked at Cottonmouth as he brushed past. Just before he turned to follow Granite into the shadowy dead-end alley that was the diminutive rogue's lair, he leaned over as if to scratch an itch on the scruff of his neck. Instead, he pressed his six-fingered paw hard down on his shredded left ear. It sloughed off, leaving a long-healed scar behind. The remnant, now clearly not an ear at all, squeaked, and Phantom Streak's white tail tip flicked around the corner as the live mouse scurried away.

And just like that, the tables had turned. Phantom Streak had what The Stones so desperately needed, and the infuriating magician would keep doing so, showing up in an open window or out of a storm drain in just the nick of time. His prices were not high, not really. A scrap of gossip here, a useless Twoleg leaf there. But little by little, the stranger nicknamed "Monkey's Paw" engrained himself into the life of The Stones, always an alley away with a deal. But what did he need all this knowledge for? And where was he acquiring his prizes?