Mercenary Elsie cursed mentally at herself as her paw accidentally hit a twig that was hidden in the grass. She had been up on the surface practicing some new fighting techniques she was developing when an unfamiliar scent wafted in her direction. As she got closer, she recognized the scent as Nightclan and caught sight of the Nightclan tom. Now that the sound had given away her position, she leapt at him with a low growl and pinned the cat to the ground. Her claws were sheathed until she had more information, but decided it was easier to have him lower than her and in a weaker position.

The silver tabby growled and met his eyes with her own navy blue, the same as her fathers. "Who are you and why are you in Regime territory?" She challenged him harshly. Despite being a mercenary, Else understood that using her claws was not always the solution to every situation and would wait to hear his answer before making a judgement call.

She was surprised that the Nightclan warrior made no attempt to defend himself or fight but she did not move just yet, he could be trying to fool her and attack her when she least expected it. "Who are you?" She repeated her first question suspiciously. It wasn't every day that she stumbled upon such a feeble intruder after all.

She stepped off of him after thinking for a moment. Renegade Regime did not need to make enemies with Nightclan at the moment and he was a deputy after all. She could tell by his stammering and nervousness that he was new and hadn't trespassed on regime territory before. Regardless, her navy blue eyes still held a cloud of suspicion. "You don't seem very fierce, for a deputy." In regime only the skilled and fierce became Mercenary Superior, a position Elsie aspired to rise to with time.

"Come back here, Nightclan Deputy," Elsie called. She was curious about him now and wasn't about to let him leave her territory until she was completely convinced he was not sent here to spy on them. "I have more questions for you," she was not shy about this as the Regime was not bound by their laws or codes.

"How you made it as far as Regime territory." It was in a way a political statement and she genuinely wanted to know. Nightclan cats were not common intruders, but that also meant that she had never gotten to shred the pelt of a Nightclan cat just yet.

She stared at him, she did not detect any lies from him and his scent clearly told her that he felt a semblance of guilt. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Clan cats." She mewed softly. They were so dazed and caught up in other things so often it was ridiculous.

"Speaking of clan cats, are the rumors of Sunclan true?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Hmm." Her face furrowed in thought. She was not the biggest fan of either, or any clan really, but things between Dayclan and the Regime were not always good. They had known squabbles over kits in the past after all. "Do clan's always squabble this way?" She still did not understand their lives or the code that-supposedly-bound them.

She looked over him curiously. He had so quickly surrendered to her without even defended himself and now talked of honor? What a strange cat. "What is your warrior code like? In the regime we certainly have a code that we stand by but I imagine it is very different from yours." After all, the regime had much more discipline and honor than clan cats in her eyes.

She thought about his words for a moment. She had seen the clans do awful things, killing cats, fighting each other needlessly, stealing kits, killing kits even. The regime was on more of an unspoken honor system than a clearly defined code. "Odd. You clan cats seem to operate more on morals and emotions than anything else. I've seen you clan cats do awful things."