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You enter the forest.
Little do you know, you're trespassing into well protected territory.
It's late in the evening, and you feel uncomfortable.
In the distance you could hear a soft humming noise, similar to that of a cricket, or a cicada.
It gets louder, and before you know it, you see shadows.
They are multiplying.
They have tracked down your scent.
All of a sudden, the shadows overwhelm you, and you are engulfed into darkness.


Name: Sheeksene

Nick Name: Sheek

Gender: Male

Age: 17

Color: Faerie

Association: The Cicada Clan

Rank: Cadet

Personality: Cold, ruthless, merciless, willing to betray anybody to get what he wants, is spiteful and judgmental towards others who take what they have for granted.

Mate: None



Likes:

Evening

Darkness

Prowling

Success

Solitude

Intimidation

Dislikes:

Failure

Team work

Disturbances

Trespassers

Ignorance

Civilization


It was an hour until dusk. The blue hues of the sky were seeping into various pinks and oranges. The sun slowly began to sink for the horizon. The fragrance of pine floated in the air and into the nostrils of a lone figure that sat, peering over a pond that stretched out in front of him. Trees surrounded the area, hunched over, with branches reaching in every which way. Sunlight dappled and decorated the ground. Small critters could be heard rustling in the grasses and leaves above. The lone figure remained still.

The young male stared into his own reflection on the water. What stared back at him was that of a young xweetok, of a dark blue hue, decorated with dull purple tiger-like markings. His plum fur swayed in the breeze that decided to roll past him. Black cloth wraps coiled tightly around his arms and legs, along with a black pouch at the base of his tail. His gaze didn't leave.

His eyes stayed glued to the shoulder blades in his reflection. Purple stubs protruded from where wings ought to be. The xweetok's eyebrows lowered and his eyes squinted. His desire for wings burned more than any other. Not only would it grant him the ability to fly, but it was also a symbol for high status and rank, where he was from.

But just like everyone else, he had to earn them. Only a handful would be able to acclaim wing status, however. He was going to be one of them. It was set in stone in his mind. Nobody was going to stand in his way.

The xweetok's ear twitched as he heard rustling behind him, but he was not alarmed. He could already recognize who was approaching him by scent, before even hearing them. He turned his head.

"Sheeksene," the other xweetok began. His fur was that of a grayish-white, dirtied from the environment around him. Stubs also protruded from his shoulder blades. "The Cicada ranks are on patrol. It is time for the Nymph ranks to head back towards the Dwelling Grounds."

The young xweetok's face wrinkled in slight scorn, but nodded in reply. He walked by the gray xweetok and shouldered past him, before deciding to dash back to camp.





Early morning sun rays reached out from behind the pinkish clouds that lingered and lazed across the horizon. The young Nymph ranks crawled out from their underground burrows, for the break of dawn was the time that the low ranks hunted food for the higher Cicada ranks. The Nymphs were the providers of the hierarchy; they are the ones that have to strive for the respect of their elders if they are ever to be selected for the Wing Ritual, the ceremony that promotes persevering Nymphs into the Cicada ranks, where their wing stubs are bestowed the ability to sprout.

Sheeksene was already awake before the rest of the Nymphs. He set out for the exit of the Dwelling Grounds into the forest that flourished with small prey. His small body frame endowed him with excellent agility and haste. It wasn't long before his swift kills began to accumulate into a pile. He was one of the more dedicated of the Nymph Ranks. He wanted to be elite. He must be elite.

The young xweetok paused to smell the air, which contained the scent of that not of prey. He recognized the scent was actually that of an xweetok who he became familiar with within the clan. Milotis was his name, the only other xweetok who appeared to almost have the same strong aspirations as Sheeksene. He befriended the grayish-white xweetok not too long ago. Milo seemed to have Sheek's back, to always find and inform him of when the Cicada Ranks were on patrol, and sometimes partnered with Sheek to collect prey and bring it back to the Dwelling Grounds. Milo was someone who Sheeksene could tolerate by his side, however, he was more like competition than anything.

Milo's scent was not the only one that lingered in the air; there was another. An unfamiliar scent. A foreign scent. A scent that mixed in with that of Milotis. They were near. Its such a pet peeve of Sheeksene's when others travel and hunt within his space. After hiding his prey in some bushes, he rolled around in the leafy growth to mask his scent. He crouched with his belly brushing against the ground, prowling under shrubbery and grasses as he began to investigate. He followed the scented trail until voices came within his earshot. He listened inquisitively. He raised his head curiously.

From between the grasses, he spied Milo speaking softly with what seemed to be another foreign xweetok. The stranger was frail and scared, his brown fur matted and dirtied. "I'm not going to hurt you," Milotis began. "Take this..take it with you and don't return here. It's dangerous. They will hurt you," he finished. Milo nudged his prey to the foreign xweetok, who bowed his head graciously as he took it within his jaws and scurried away to safety out of the Cicada territory. Sheeksene's fur began to stand on end, and his pupils transformed into narrow slits.

Sheek stood out of the grass and calmed his appearance. He raised a brow and said, "Interesting, Milotis." Milo whipped around, completely startled and wide-eyed. "Are you always so kind to strangers? Always so willing to simply give away prey to those who do not dwell on Cicada Clan soil? To those who do not earn it?" Sheeksene scoffed questioningly. Milo hesitated and stammered, "You aren't going to tell them, are you?!" He panicked. Sheeksene smirked and turned around. "Of course not," he began, "I mean, we're 'friends', aren't we?" Sheek scoffed. He turned around and disappeared into the forest, leaving Milo behind him. He recovered his prey and brought it back to the Dwelling Grounds. Glancing over his shoulder, the same smirk re-appeared across his face. He trotted over to the Superiors Grotto and approached the Head Mistress, the Czar, the Herald, and the three other Nobilities. "I need to have a word with you."



Leaving the forest so soon? Heh, wise choice. Perhaps that'll teach you next time you try to trespass again. Or will it? Maybe you should alert others of your experience!





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It is a journey
I must face...alone.
*dramatic music*
I want to stay on Neopets,
where the dangers of
Meepit invasion
are taken seriously.
Heads Up! You're about to leave Neopia!

You've clicked on a link that will take you outside of
Neopets.com. We do not control your destination's website,
so its rules, regulations, and Meepit defense systems will be
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It is a journey
I must face...alone.
*dramatic music*
I want to stay on Neopets,
where the dangers of
Meepit invasion
are taken seriously.
Heads Up! You're about to leave Neopia!

You've clicked on a link that will take you outside of
Neopets.com. We do not control your destination's website,
so its rules, regulations, and Meepit defense systems will be
different! Are you sure you'd like to continue?



It is a journey
I must face...alone.
*dramatic music*
I want to stay on Neopets,
where the dangers of
Meepit invasion
are taken seriously.
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