Dubiety ❧ A Warriors Mafia Minigame

round i ❧ scene iv

wHAt kInd of mUrdER MethOd wiLL I uSe tOniGHt?

The traitor was alone in the forest, just outside of the camp. They prowled outside the entrance restlessly; their mind jumping at wisps of ideas, but reaching nothing. Frustrated, they clawed at the earth. Maybe I should just lure a fox into the camp and kill them all at once.

BUt whERe's thE fUn iN tHat?

The traitor looked around. Vines and moss covered the bark of virtually every tree. A couple of them looked pale in the moonlight, dehydrated and dying, with cracks showing clearly in the bark. Great, even the Clan's home is dying off on its own. Is it self-aware? Does it support me?

Wait. Dying trees. Maybe I could...! The traitor's mind raced as they hit on a new idea. They scrambled up the nearest paling tree to reach the lowest branch. It looked brittle and dry.

Bracing themselves, they moved farther down the branch. It bent, but did not break. They looked around to see if there were any similar branches on other trees; they didn't want to waste this chance on an experiment.

There. A thick branch, ringed by browning vines, was situated on the trunk of a maple tree a few fox-lengths off.

The traitor pushed down on the branch and bounced up and down a couple of times, using their own weight to try to break it off.

The dying branch broke off the trunk and fell through the air. The traitor sprang off just before it hit the earth, and it crashed heavily on the ground.

Perfect.

pErfECt.

But what will I use to...?

The traitor glanced at the vine circling the tree and realized just how stupid their question to themselves was. They raced over to the other tree, now confident in preparing the trap. They tugged at the vine around the branch; it was already wrapped securely around the dry piece of wood, so the traitor did nothing to it. Grabbing an end of the vine in their jaws, they tugged experimentally. The wood cracked. Heart pounding with anticipation, they let go. This will do.

They carefully wrapped the vine around the branch and let the end dangle within jumping distance in the air- just to make sure they'd know where it was later- and headed back to camp.

The traitor had already chosen who would die tonight: the warrior who was the least likely to ask for help in taking them down. After all, they probably didn't even like most of them, and would probably rather go on a solo mission.

The traitor entered the camp and slunk into the den, careful not to make a sound, and searched for the victim.

There they were, sleeping at the edge of the den.

The traitor lashed out with one paw, keeping their claws sheathed, and landed a hard blow on the ribs. Then they ran away.

"Wha-" The cat that the traitor had awakened must've seen them, because they heard the sound of a cat hastily getting out of the nest, and the pattering of paws over the ground.

The run was short, yet exhilarating. The traitor ran in a small burst of speed. They couldn't look behind them, but he guessed from the sound of their paws that their prey was around a tail-length and a half behind them.

They were drawing close to the trapped maple tree.

The traitor prepared themselves.

...

...

Now!

Leaping up with the power in their haunches combined with the momentum from running, the traitor grabbed the dangling vine in their jaws. When gravity pulled them back down to earth, they yanked down on the vine as hard as possible, and they heard a sharp crack sound behind them.