[Fate Admin]

Oakpaw had been assigned to a hunting patrol with his mentor, Ratfur, and also Blackwolf and Halfmask. The four had left camp with Oakpaw bouncing along with the warriors, though he was quite overdue for his own warrior name. Other apprentices liked to remind him of that and laugh, but he just laughed with them. It was kind of funny, wasn’t it? But he didn’t mind not being a warrior. It just meant more time with his mentor! Oakpaw was always up for spending time with Ratfur.

The others would disappear, tracking some scent or another, and come back with a piece of prey hanging from their jaws, and meanwhile Oakpaw was having a hard time even finding a scent to follow. Slowly the patrol made their way toward the RainClan border, hunting as they went. Oakpaw wasn’t about to give up, keeping his nose to the ground and his ears perked as he tramped along, probably scaring most prey away before he’d even have a chance to smell it.

Finally he caught a scent! A squirrel? It was rather odd to find one in this part of the territory but Oakpaw wasn’t about to complain or stop to analyze the information. He took off after the scent immediately and heard the squirrel scamper off ahead of him. He was NOT going to let it get away; it was the first prey he’d scented at all this whole patrol! His paws drummed over the ground, his claws tearing into the earth all the better to propel himself forward, faster, as he tried to catch up to the squirrel.

He didn’t register in the slightest when he crossed the border into RainClan territory, and then the squirrel was up a tree and he was skidding to a halt before he ran face first into the trunk. Only his skid didn’t go so well and he slipped onto his side and smacked his head on a rock, knocking him out cold. Luckily a nice RainClan patrol was on the way… or not so luckily.

I won't be posting again until after Halfmask and Sandstar have died. I'll have Ravenstar come in leading the border patrol that was supposed to come to the RC border so Mallow and Razor are outnumbered and can't try to gang up on Blackwolf for killing their leader xD Oaky shall be passed out and oblivious to the trouble he's caused xD

[Insidious]

R A Z O R F A N G

It began just as any border patrol would. He, alongside two friends of his clan, Sands.tar and Mallowleaf, trudged the worn down paths that separated RainClan’s lands from that of NightClan. The deputy was walking slightly ahead of his two clan mates, grayish-green eyes on high alert for any strange activity. It had been a long time since there had been any trouble between RainClan and NightClan, or at least, as far as he knew of. It was with this in mind that Razorfang allowed himself to be somewhat more relaxed than usual as his large black paws carried him across the familiar land, strength emitting from each carefully placed step. It wasn’t until the apparent smack of something clearly attached to the body colliding with, from the sounds of it, a rock or a tree rang through the air that the deputy’s attention was completely brought to the situation at hand, confusedly turning to look over his shoulders to see if Sands.tar and Mallowleaf were both equally puzzled. Turning frontwards again, the deputy’s eyes narrowed into a pair of determined slits, purposefully striding through the foliage until he came across a rather . . . peculiar sight.

Looming over the warrior-sized apprentice, a lowly tuned hiss vibrated in the back of his throat as he took in the scent of NightClan - on their side of the border. A powerful paw batted the tomcat in the side of the head, looking for any signs of movement, but to no avail. He had passed out; how Razorfang would have loved to bear witness to such stupidity so that he could hold information of young Oakpaw’s clumsiness over the heads of any NightClan warriors. A shame that he had missed it. “NightClan . . .” Razorfang grumbled under his breath. “Where there’s one, there’s usually more not far behind. Let’s hope they aren’t all mouse-brained enough to cross the border and pass out on a rock.” There was an undeniable trace of amusement in the deputy’s face, but it was nothing compared to the unforgiving nature of his sneer as he cast unimpressed eyes on the NightClan cat that had blacked out, unable to stop himself from wondering who had the pleasure to train him - because, surely, he was not a warrior.

Phoenix
nimble
Fawn

[Deleted]

The cream pelted warrior flanked Razorfang out of camp. She traveled in silence, her paws steady on the muddy paths they traveled. The border was quiet, NightClan's markers where they belonged. It would be an easy patrol. Still, she remained alert, amber-green eyes searching the underbrush, breathing in the scents of the forest.

Mallowleaf liked border patrols. While she rarely yielded much prey hunting, marking and defending the borders was something she was adept at. She knew every inch of the territory, and where every marker should lie. And, of course, StarClan forbid, should there ever be any trouble... well, the she was the best warrior for the job. She was fierce in combat, skilled with her claws, and knew exactly how to orchestrate a victory.

Her ears twitched as she heard a faint rustling, then a loud thump. "What in the name of StarClan..." she mumbled inaudibly as she, alongside the deputy, moved towards the sound, searching for its source and explanation. But even as her gaze fell upon the young NightClanner before her, she grew even more perplexed. Her thoughts echoing Razorfang's, she searched the underbrush. Tense, prepared, and rather confused.

Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 195
Notes; ~

[Fawn]

-----------------

Who's idea was it to send him on a patrol with Ratfur and his apprentice-whatever-his-name-is, Leafpaw or something? Blackwolf suppressed another growl; he should be used to the amount of incompetence the two of them radiated simply by breathing, but it was always a bit of a shock to him if he hadn't been around it in a while.

It could only be due to NightClan still recovering from that disastrous outbreak that he would be assigned a patrol with the likes of them; if he'd had any say in the matter (and he usually did), Blackwolf would have much preferred the company of Hollowcry and Ghostlight while they were investigating and defending their borders.

"Don't go running off!" Blackwolf had snapped at Oakpaw, but the apprentice was already shooting out ahead of him, after some mangy squirrel or something Blackwolf knew he wouldn't catch. Aware that the little mousebrain was running straight for the RainClan border, Blackwolf stalked after him, pursuing at a measured pace, not suspecting trouble but too experienced to let his guard down in spite of this.

Hearing voices, the NightClan tom stepped out from a heavy swathe of ferns, his posture radiating hostility and contempt for the 3 (mostly) easily recognizable cats in his mismatched sightline. Sandstar, the leader of RainClan, Razorfang, his mixed-breed deputy and some young warrior he didn't care to remember the name of.

And then there was Oakpaw. Unconscious beside them.

Blackwolf needed little else for encouragement; he unsheathed his claws and lunged, aware of Halfmask flanking him and Ratfur - likely not to rush to the aid of his own apprentice. Pathetic.

With his blood roaring, the obsidian scarred tom collided with the enemy, his battle cry frightening the birds from the trees.

Even if he wasn't especially honor-bound himself, even Blackwolf knew that for an entire patrol to lay an apprentice low - enemies or not - was bordering on 'I'm a steaming heap of foxdung' territory, and he wouldn't just let such an absurd offense go unpunished.

---

Word Count: 338 Words
Tags: Insidious, nimble, Fate Admin, Phoenix

[Insidious]

R A Z O R F A N G

He had the potential to be a reasonable cat. Sometimes it was easier to tear flesh with his teeth first and then talk later, but he wouldn’t deny that for the sake of the lives of those around him that he cared for, it often wasn’t worth the trouble of targeting one another’s throats. He found that it was especially not worth the trouble when the circumstances gave either clan absolutely no good reason to get their claws dirty. RainClan was above starting a border skirmish if the guilty apprentice hadn’t been aware of their crossing the border. Mind it’d be something that they would laugh about for a long time, holding this information on NightClan’s mousebrained to-be warriors dear, but they wouldn’t surpass the point of laughing. NightClan, on the other hand, the deputy couldn’t be certain of. There was more ways for this particular scenario to be viewed than he had been bothered to consider, such being why there was room for a flicker of surprise in his expression when Blackwolf decided to attack. Razorfang had been on the verge of protest - after all, if either clan had any reason to attack the other, it’d be RainClan considering it was NightClan’s own that had started it all by crossing the border - but, once sharp claws were aimed at the head of a clan’s leader, it became suddenly difficult to think about anything other than fighting back.

A loud roar boomed from deep inside of the deputy’s throat, forcefully throwing his body between Blackwolf and Sandstar to aid his leader in countering any of the skilled warrior’s strikes. Ever since he had lost his old mentor to the claws of a StoneClan cat he couldn’t be bothered to name, a fierce chord of loyalty for those around him that he cared about had sprung into existence from a place he didn’t know himself to possess. When someone threatened the life of a clan mate he held dear, they had a whole other thing coming to worry about. There was nothing forgiving about each lethal point of his morbid teeth; StarClan could try as they might to forbid it from hurting so badly, but even if he clenched his jaws together lightly, the cat on the receiving end was in for a world of pain - suddenly a nip at the tail would be feeling a lot like a severed limb.

Razorfang didn’t assume that Sandstar needed much assistance, but he had the time to be helping out regardless seeing as the playing field was rather uneven, what with the cats that NightClan had chose to bring along this time around. He knew that Blackwolf was among the few that NightClan had to offer that they’d potentially be better off tag-teaming. The deputy would never admit to another’s strength posing any kind of rivalry to his own, but that was needless to say that he wouldn’t mind taking down a well known fighter and making them beg for mercy, coughing out the dust that clogged their lungs when their jaw was driven into the ground. It was with this pleasant image in mind that Razorfang continued to viciously lash out with his powerful paws, taking every opportunity he could get to lunge forth and snap his jaws with the ferocity of a blood-thirsty piranha on the hunt.

Unbeknownst to the deputy was that he had lost track of what threats lurked behind him, caught up in the protection of his leader at any cost, should it even prove to be his life.

Phoenix
nimble
Fawn
Fate Admin

[Phoenix]

One life. Only one life left. It never escaped his conscious mind that he was now as mortal as the rest of his clan. The sickness that had most recently claimed one of his lives had been insidious, invisible and intangible but just as dangerous as the unforgiving claws of an enemy. It had left him tired and worn for days, beaten by an opponent he could not possibly fight. The consequences were clear. If he lost his next life, it would be the last. There would be no pleasantries exchanged at StarClan's Claws with cats long deceased, no returning as refreshed as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. The thought haunted him, lingered in the darkest recesses of his eyes, lurked in his every movement. He found his hesitations slightly longer in the face of change, and the chill down his spine felt colder when his duties put him in danger of losing his last, precious claim to life.

A loud crack had him turning toward the NightClan border, and it was only after a moment's confusion that he identified the source. Golden eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion as he strode forward, a step behind his deputy, to confront what he now recognized as an unconscious NightClan apprentice. On RainClan's side of the border. As Razorfang swatted the young tom and Mallowleaf turned to gaze into NightClan's territory in search of the apprentice's companions, the leader could not help but find himself regarding the tree with thinly veiled amusement. He could hardly imagine that the poor tree had done anything to deserve a collision with an apprentice, and he could barely believe that a cat would be so - so what? Unobservant? Uncoordinated? Unintelligent? A combination of the three? - to actually run full-force into a tree that had definitely not stepped into his path. Shaking his head in disbelief, he returned his gaze briefly to the apprentice by their paws before his eyes joined the two pairs scanning the border for any sign of their neighbor. If this was the level of NightClan's up and coming warriors, he almost felt sorry for Ravenstar.

Once again, a loud noise drew his attention, and this one, easily recognizable as a battle cry, had him tensing instantly. Blood pounded in his ears as his unsheathed claws dug into the ground and he whipped around to fully confront what was undoubtedly a NightClan patrol. A black blur raced straight toward them - toward him - and he froze as he had never done before. His mind seemed to have become a startlingly blank slate in a matter of moments, and it was only by Razorfang's quick thinking that he avoided the NightClan tom's claws. The sudden movement jolted him back to life, and immediately instinct honed by moons of training and practice kicked in where his consciousness had frozen. With a short nod of gratitude to his deputy, the leader focused on the fight before him as his body seemed to move of its own accord, dodging wherever possible as he attempted to reason with the enraged warrior - the apprentice's mentor, perhaps?

"Your - apprentice - crossed - into - our - land," He tried to explain between blows. Sandstar would have been surprised if his attempts succeeded, as it seemed as though he was wasting his breath and the words traveled in one ear and out the other. "He - must - have - run - into - that - tree. We - did - nothing - worthy - of - a - fight." Distracted as they were by the fighting that had broken out without warning, neither of the two patrols noticed the wiry tom who had decided that it would be in his best interest to hang back and avoid the flying claws of both his clanmates and his would-be opponents; both, he felt, were equally likely to rip him to shreds. One patrol would do it in disgust, and the other simply because he stood on the wrong side of an invisible line.

Ratfur slunk in an acceptably wide arc around the more respectable warriors of his clan, green eyes scanning the ground for the pathetic tom whose idiocy had started the battle. He had half a mind to let Oakpaw lie where he was and let him be trampled in the fray - collateral damage, and perhaps all he deserved considering that he was to blame. A thought had him pausing for the briefest of moments. That solution would also keep him permanently out of Ratfur's way, and he found himself musing happily about a life where he did hot constantly have to worry about the amount of danger his apprentice would unintentionally pose to both himself and his clan mates that day. It was, admittedly, a pleasant idea, but one, unfortunately, that the rest of the clan would hardly accept.

Crouching down in the undergrowth just on NightClan's side of the border, he waited, eyes pinned on the fighting felines before him. It would not be easy to extract his unconscious burden and avoid the violence that had overtaken all of those around him. Really, his mind whispered in a very reasonable tone, It would be easiest to leave him there. The chances that he would be seriously injured are slim; surely they will avoid stepping on him just as they would a rock or a tree root. Ratfur found it hard to argue with that impeccable logic, but surely some would claim it was his duty to rescue his apprentice, regardless of the danger it posed to himself. He decided that a compromise was in order. If the opportunity presented itself, he would rush out there like the selfless mentor he was supposed to be and save the pathetic tom. Until then, he would wait here in his bush and watch the fighting from a perfectly safe distance.

OOC: I can format and make it all pretty later, but I figured it's past time for me to get something up for this

[Deleted]

Halfmask

The patrol to which Halfmask was assigned left like a hawk being chased by a sparrow. The older, more stoic warriors orbited by the, er, lively young Oakpaw. Nevertheless, it was nice enough. Ratfur was jittery, Blackwolf on edge, but she didn't mind their company. The group moved in to the forest together, quiet and alert, until one of them would split off to pursue prey before returning to their little faction. Prey was still in the process of emerging from its burrow, so Halfmask only landed a frog, burying it beneath a crooked pine for her retrieval later on.

They were close to the RainClan border when the apprentice among them darted off. Halfmask flicked her ears back. He was heading straight for the rival clan's territory. For StarClan's sake, she thought to herself, trotting behind Blackwolf.

The large tom breached the ferns. The NightClan warrioress saw his hackles rise, and then he was charging forward. Unsheathing her claws, she followed, only seeing the unconscious Oakpaw as she sprinted in to the clearing. But there was no time to think of it now. She quickly processed her adversaries, her mismatched eyes falling on the young cream-colored warrior heading for her. She didn't recognize the RainClanner. Unimportant. She dashed past her, surprised at the raking of claws on her tortoiseshell pelt. Fast reflexes. It didn't matter.

Blackwolf was facing both Razorfang and Sandstar. Her vision misting red, she skidded around, leaping towards the RainClan deputy.

Character; Halfmask
Word count; 245
Notes; ~

Mallowleaf

More of NightClan was approaching. The cream-pelted warrior's eyes narrowed, tensing, her body poised ever-so-slightly. The large black tom blundered through the ferns, and, barely hesitating, charged forward. Very well. She unsheathed her claws, glancing to Razorfang for only a moment before streaking towards the oddly colored tortoiseshell she recognized as Halfmask.

Her claws met flesh, as the opposing warrior dashed past her before turning and -- no. Halfmask was bounding towards Razorfang, to catch him from behind. Mallowleaf moved to cut her off.

She launched towards the warrior, lips peeled back in a snarl, then she leapt through the air. In a single heartbeat, she seized the tortoiseshell's neck, claws shifting slightly on the damp leaves as she launched upwards. Her jaws clenched around the warrior's throat, not letting up even as the grip interrupted her trajectory.

A loud snap echoed through the forest, and for a heartbeat she was perpendicular to the earth, her enemy's flesh held firmly in her maw. Mallowleaf felt her teeth tear through, the she-cat's hot lifeblood filling her mouth before spewing out. Halfmask's blood splattered across the hides of the cats fighting only a fox-length away. The warrior's body impacted the ground with a thump, knocking the wind out of her. Still, she stood, forcing herself to release what remained clamped between her teeth.

Halfmask lay at her paws, neck torn open, head facing the wrong way... eyes lifeless. Mallowleaf was fighting to replace the air in her lungs, but still she turned to face Blackwolf, her bloody maw open and snarling, red liquid dripping from her fangs. There was nothing but rage in her pale eyes, and Halfmask was no more.

Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 278
Notes; I didn't write this very well.

[Fawn]

-----------------

If such a situation had occurred earlier in Blackwolf's respective timeline, and he had not known the depth of Oakpaw's incompetence, he would have furthered his attack with renewed vigor towards a cat that was so clearly lying. But Blackwolf was older, more experienced, and his knowledge of Ratfur's poorly trained and mouse-brained apprentice was enough to make him halt, if only briefly.

And then, as though a storm-cloud had suddenly covered the bright newleaf sun, Blackwolf felt wetness upon his fur - the spray of hot blood, the crack of bone echoing in his ears as he gazed upon the culprit, shock registering in the bulky tom's mismatched eyes as Mallowleaf stood triumphant before his gaze, the very embodiment of rage and animal savagery.

A stranger to death and horror Blackwolf was not, but this had to be one of the most gut-wrenching killings he'd witnessed in his life - which had likely been twice as long as hers - and it filled him with nothing but a hollow disbelief that reached the depth of his being (as shallow a creature as he was), until it gave way to nothing but cold, raw fire.

Murdered. Halfmask had been murdered before his very eyes, and his pelt now reeked of her blood, he could feel it seeping into his skin; he did not think, only moved. Rather than go after the young she-cat that had done something so heinous, Blackwolf turned back to Sandstar, his eyes flashing a hellish light on a day that was meant to be nothing short of uneventful; he would take from them what they had taken from NightClan.

Sandstar's words echoed. We did nothing worthy of a fight.

Wrong.

"You asked for this, RainClan!" His voice seethed, a low guttural growl that was stifled as the black tom struck the sandy-hued tom hard, going for the throat, wanting to bring to RainClan the same pain, wanting to feel with satisfaction the enemy-tom's life shatter between his teeth.

There was not a cat fast enough to stop him as his jaws closed around Sandstar's throat, having used the heavy, muscled bulk of his body to knock the tom off his feet, together they tumbled - though it was clear from the growling and the desperate choked noises of RainClan's leader who was winning this fight.

Without hesitation, the code be damned, Blackwolf let the rage consume him and he sank his teeth further in until blood soaked the fur around his mouth and lapped at his tongue, holding fast until the leader's life - and unknown to Blackwolf - Sandstar's last, leaked into the sodden, flattened grass beneath them. Blackwolf stood over the tom and faced down Razorfang and Mallowleaf, his eyes wolfish and lethal, mouth stained as he bared his teeth and unleashed a savage, warning yowl.

Come and get me.

He would have only a little bit of time before StarClan rewarded Sandstar with another life, and though he was judiciously cautious of the deputy with the Demon-sharp teeth and the warrioress who fought as though possessed, Blackwolf was certain of his own capabilities. He could fight, and he could fight well.

Halfmask was not worth dying over, but she was worth killing over.

A black ear swiveled, the sound of approaching paws caught his attention - aware, with a faint note of relief and dark, vindictive satisfaction that it was on his side of the border.

Good.

Then he needn't worry about being outnumbered. Blackwolf crouched low, tail swishing, posture radiating that of a beast hell-bent upon catching his prey - unaware that Sandstar had lain still for much longer than was expected of him.

The leader of RainClan would not get up again.

-----
614 Words.
nimble, Phoenix, Fate Admin, Insidious
OOC: Let me know if this was okay for Sandstar's death, Phoenix! (: I can always edit it a bit.

[Insidious]

R A Z O R F A N G

He should have felt the claws of the enemy piercing into his flesh, but all there was to be felt was hot blood as it splattered his whole back. He hesitated for only a brief second, the blackness of his body growing shinier under the command of thickening blood, wanting to give himself a thorough shaking, but fully knowledgeable that he would carry this newfound addition to his pelt all the way back to camp with him. For a moment, he was under the impression that Mallowleaf had been lost to them. Sharply turning to look over his shoulder, he took in the sight of an entirely unexpected situation, said she-cat standing victorious over the limp body of Halfmask - what remained of Halfmask. He was almost certain that his eyes were playing tricks. Blood dripped in a steady rhythm, like a waterfall of red, from the culprit’s mouth; there was no remorse in her expression. He realized, then, why this cat was dead. Halfmask was the one that had been meant to have her claws dug deeply into the back of Razorfang’s body, but before she could even manage to get close enough to jump onto him, Mallowleaf had countered her in order to keep Razorfang safe. Shock was alight in the deputy’s eyes, stunned to the point that the surrounding battle had been momentarily glazed over and erased from his mind. Mallowleaf had killed a cat to protect him from harm’s way. Killed. A cat didn’t need to die today, especially when the battle had been previously raging on because of nothing more severe than Oakpaw’s incompetence.

And yet he was thankful, because it very well could have been him lain dead upon the ground instead of Halfmask.

In the midst of the deputy’s inability to see anything outside of the mangled corpse near his paws, he had unintentionally left Sandstar unattended to. All he needed to hear was the sound of a choking throat to understand the terrible mistake that he had made, whirling around to see, this time, exactly what he had been expecting. Blackwolf spat Sandstar’s throat out of his mouth, and the heap of what had once stood strong and regal as the leader of RainClan now lay motionless upon the ground. A gasp of air was sucked into Razorfang’s lungs, unsure steps bringing him closer to the fallen clan mate. This wasn’t his final life. It couldn’t be. The two of them had spoken about this before, sure, but Sandstar had been mistaken with his numbers, or Razorfang just hadn’t heard him correctly. He was going to stand up again, and the first thing he’d see was the apology upon his deputy’s face, followed by relief to see him actually standing once again.

An unnatural amounts of seconds was the only thing to greet him. With each one that passed, his grief multiplied by a thousand. Every cat around him was tuned out as he leaned over the body of his leader, a body that would never again be restored, a body that would never see life again. His conscious mind tried to pull him away from his messy, scattered thoughts. Another patrol of cats was approaching from NightClan’s side of the border. Soon, he and Mallowleaf would be outnumbered. There was no more fight left in this exchange. As the bushes rattled, signalling the approach of more NightClan scum, eyes flickered up and over his shoulder towards Blackwolf. He had no idea what he had just done. He had no idea what was going to happen to him one of these days because of it. “I swear, Blackwolf . . .” There was a fire unlike anything TreeClan had ever witnessed brewing inside of his eyes, as dead and void of emotion as those of the former leader still limp at his paws. “The next time you think to involve yourself in a fight against this clan, it will be your last.” The words weren’t spoken as a threat, because they were a promise. Perhaps it had been nothing more than Blackwolf’s vindictive personality that had caused him to lash out at Sandstar once Mallowleaf had claimed the life inside of Halfmask. Perhaps he was acting on the hunch that Sandstar would wake up again. But he wasn’t waking up again. RainClan’s leader was dead, and because of this tomcat mere pawsteps away, Razorfang would have to take his place. There was no time for excitement or worry for the new position he’d have to fulfill to flood his chest. He could see nothing surpassed the death at his paws, and the cat that had caused it and would undoubtedly pay for it.

Because the next time they met, the odds would be brutally uneven. Razorfang would have nine lives - nine damned lives for Blackwolf to try as he might to end - and in the span of those nine he’d only have one to end.

He didn’t wait to be greeted by the new NightClan patrol, instead gathering Sandstar’s body onto his back and soundlessly retreating back towards RainClan’s camp. He didn’t even feel particularly generous enough to wait around for Mallowleaf to catch up, or to thank her like he had previously been aiming to for saving his life. All there was left to do was bring Sandstar back to his clan, and inform everyone that the leader was no more.

Phoenix
nimble
Fawn
Fate Admin

[Phoenix]

From their vantage point in the undergrowth, sharp green eyes saw everything. He watched as Halfmask, undoubtedly envisioning herself the savior of Blackwolf and intending to rescue the tom from his uneven fight against both RainClan’s leader and deputy, launched herself at the latter with claws itching for a taste of flesh. In the end, her claws did meet flesh – just not the flesh of her original target. He watched as the Rainclan she-cat came to the defense of Razorfang, much like the deputy had his leader, and found himself wondering if that was all RainClan cats did in battle: jump in front of enemy claws in order to save another. The tactic was unarguably selfless and debatably noble to a fault, but it hardly seemed conducive to actually winning a fight. Was it LightningClan, then, who had provided the bulk of the brute force necessary to chase StoneClan into the mountains all those moons ago?

It was not without a jolt that he recognized the echoing snap! for what it was, and his startled gaze froze on the victorious RainClan warrior. A chill traveled down his spine, unbidden. On its own, the entire setting of this skirmish was ridiculous – he knew his apprentice far better than he would have liked; he could easily say that Oakpaw was not the foolhardy apprentice to rush into enemy territory and attack a patrol, and even if he was, it was unlikely he could have posed enough of a threat that would warrant being knocked unconscious; no, he would have managed to somehow do that to himself – but to have the cost of Oakpaw’s incompetence become more than a few scratches was unbelievable. It was hardly worth dying for. Perhaps he should have words with his apprentice once the entire matter was through.

But it was far from over. His attention switched to Blackwolf, one of the many banes of his existence, and he found himself reminded as to why he chose to live under the scornful protection of one of NightClan’s biggest jerks rather than against him. The admittedly horrible death of his clan mate enraged the midnight warrior beyond the point of no return, and the brunt of his ire became focused on the golden RainClan leader mere inches away from his claws. His attack was instantaneous, and even from a distance, Ratfur knew that more than one life would be lost. The difference? He fully expected the sandy tom to rise to his paws after a moment or two; he was, after all, a leader.

But when that did not happen, a second wave of shock crashed over him – if he did not count the near-constant disbelief at his own apprentice’s ability to fail, it must have been a record – and paralyzed his limbs. Time seemed to freeze as comprehension dawned on Razorfang first. The deputy seemed to have eyes only for the fallen leader by his paws, and the hidden NightClan tom found himself holding his breath, waiting with sick anticipation – for what? – he did not know. And there was the anger, what would have been obligatory on his part but what was so clearly genuine in the pain and promise of a different kind of pain blazing deep in the RainClan deputy’s eyes. Or was he the leader, now?

The sound of pawsteps broke through the reverie that had fallen, and he was suddenly reminded that it was highly unlikely that the skirmish had gone unnoticed by either side. At the very least, the scent of blood would alert any observant cat to the fact that something was wrong, and it did not take a genius to figure out what battle cries and snarls implied. Only as RainClan hissed final threats and retreated with the body of their fallen comrade did he extract himself from his position, shaking leaves and twigs from his fur. Stiff limbs protested, but he ignored them as he watched the deputy-leader and the warrior withdraw to their camp with heavy hearts. Green eyes turned to the equally dead body of one of their own before glancing toward Blackwolf, whom he had kept at a safe distance, the message clear – Ratfur would be crushed under the weight of a full-grown warrior. But he found it easy fall into step beside his antagonist of far too many moons as they, too, started to make their way back to camp.

With all the excitement, it was only at the last minute that he remembered the culprit behind the chaos that had been unleashed: Oakpaw. Pausing midstride, he turned back to see the still form of his apprentice, who could have easily joined the RainClan leader in StarClan but for the steady rise and fall of his side. Green eyes scanning his surroundings, he stalked back up to the border and, without further preamble or ceremony, bit into the scruff of his apprentice. A warrior, he could not carry, but perhaps an apprentice. Taking a deep breath, he heaved the younger tom over his shoulder, and trying not to stumble under the weight of his burden, he headed for home once and for all, a near-mirror image of the defeated cats on whom he had turned his back.

[Deleted]

Fury filled Mallowleaf like lightning scorching through her veins. Sandstar was dead. Her leader, killed within his own borders. She began to move towards Blackwolf, ready to end him for his crimes, but the approaching pawsteps of yet more NightClanners crossing the border, and Razorfang's obvious intentions to retreat stopped her. As the deputy took up his lifeless leader and fled, Mallowleaf stood her ground, the blood of her enemies staining her fangs and fur.

As the small black cat she recognized as Ravenstar entered her vision, she snarled.

"How dare you trespass here?" she spat. "You disgusting, cowardly scum. Take your honorless dead, fox-dung, and don't ever cross these borders again or I will slaughter each and every one of you and leave you to rot like the crowfood you are."

Mallowleaf wheeled around, launching in to the forest to follow Razorfang, the ferns closing behind her. It was all she could do to not turn around and end just a couple of them before they overwhelmed her in numbers. But it would be unwise. StarClan only knew what the days ahead would hold, and Razorfang was going to need her claws at his back.

Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 196
Notes; She pissed.