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All any cat seemed to be able to talk about lately was NightClan and their new foxhearted leader. The cat that had crippled Gorsetail had risen to power, received nine lives, and was making all the important decisions for their neighboring rival. TreeClan buzzed with anger, indignity, and concern for the future with such an impulsive, unstable cat leading NightClan.

Gorsetail may have been TreeClan’s deputy, but he had been her mentor. He was supposed to become leader after her father, she was supposed to be his deputy. Now that would never happen. Ivyclaw had so far not been able to bring herself to spend more than a few moments visiting Gorsetail. Being around him, seeing what had been done to him, made rage burn through her veins. Even a brief visit with the former deputy, the cat that had made her a warrior, and Ivyclaw found herself needing an outlet for the fury that seared through her and made a quick trek out of camp to burn it off before she lashed out at a Clanmate instead.

And now this NightClan dirtface apparently wanted her brother dead on top of it all. All because of some mangy old warrior Brackenstride killed in a battle NightClan started. The memory of the patrol returning from that fight, defeated, Blackwolf’s death, her brother’s pride at taking the famed NightClan fighter down, her own confusing flash of anger and sorrow over the fact. Why she had felt any sympathy for the old fleabag was a mystery to her, but she had shaken it off quickly enough when she saw the wounds he had given her brother.

Twice, NightClan had attacked a TreeClan patrol, and twice, TreeClan had come away with a loss. It was completely unacceptable. And Finchcloud had been there to lose both battles. Spotting the tom in question across camp, she marched right up to him and thrust her nose nearly right up against his, “You need battle training. Come with me and practice, unless you wanna get killed next time NightClan attacks us.” Without waiting for an answer or an argument, she spun around and stalked away toward the exit leading out of camp, tail flicking behind her. No way was she gonna let NightClan hurt any of her other Clanmates the way they’d hurt Gorsetail. After two losses, Finchcloud obviously needed help.

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Greenleaf 1 - Sunlight continues to bear down heavily on the valley, making the dry grass brittle. Hunting is especially difficult due to extra sound caused by breaking leaves.

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Finchcloud

So many times it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory

Finchcloud had been eating a mouse, chatting with Flamelight, when Ivyclaw was suddenly right in his face, her nose a whisker from his and a demand cutting off what he had been saying to the other ginger tom. Finchcloud shrank away, ears pinning back to his head and eyes wide in surprise. "But-" he began, the tiniest squeak of protest trailing off as she spun around and headed for the camp entrance. Flamelight was snickering, and he reached over to hook Finchcloud's mouse toward him. "Best not keep her waiting," the other stated, and a heartbeat later Finchcloud was on his paws and following.

"I know how to fight," he protested, his voice a touch stronger this time as he caught up to the fawn she-cat. Just because he'd lost a couple battles... just because they happened to be the only two battles he'd been in... didn't mean he didn't know how to fight. He just had bad luck to be up against that NightClan she-cat. His scratches had stung for days after that last battle- and that was before the she-cat that was now their leader had maimed Gorsetail. "Every cat knows NightClan doesn't fight fair anyway," he muttered.

He didn't exactly want to be doing this. It was hot, even under the trees, and his fur was thick. "Can't we do this later?" he asked, trying hard not to openly whine even, as he kept on because he was pretty sure the answer to that would be 'no.' "It'd be cooler." He tried a different tactic, trying to back up his protest with sound logic, and paused in the shade of an oak, blinking at Ivyclaw with a faint hope that she'd agree after all.

Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must FIGHT just to keep them ALIVE

@zen

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“I know how to fight.”

At his protest, Ivyclaw cast a withering glance back at the tom, “Badly, or you wouldn’t have lost two fights in a row.” She sniffed, clearly unimpressed, her tail flicking behind her as she continued her march toward the hidden thicket.

“Every cat knows NightClan doesn't fight fair anyway.”

A flicker of irritation ran through her, as though she had somehow been personally insulted, “What matters in a fight is winning. Is the fact that you ‘fought fair’ gonna comfort your family after you’ve been killed? I doubt it.” As far as Ivyclaw was concerned, what other cats might consider fighting dirty were perfectly acceptable techniques others were too stupid or stubborn to learn how to use. For her part, she would use every advantage she could get on her opponent, ‘fair’ or not.

"Can't we do this later? It'd be cooler."

She paused in her march to turn around and look at him, standing hopefully in the shade, and her amber gaze narrowed, “Later I’ll be on a patrol and you probably will too. You gonna run away from the next NightClan attack if it’s too hot too?” She gave him a pointed, challenging stare, “Honestly, Finchcloud, you whine like a kit that very badly needs a nap. Do you want to end up like Gorsetail?” Her tail lashed behind her, thinking about her mentor and the current state he was in making her angry once more, “If you wanna crawl back to camp to snuggle up in your mother’s nest, go right ahead. I’m going to prepare for NightClan’s next strike. I’ll send them all back to their camp in pieces for what that NightClan foxheart did to Gorsetail.”

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Finchcloud

So many times it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory

Ivyclaw clearly wasn't in the mood to listen to him, and Finchcloud's ears flattened at her question. "Of course not!" he replied, voice slightly shriller as his tail briefly matched the angry flicking of the she-cat's. The Clan had spent days waiting for Gorsetail to wake up, only to realize that even now nothing would be the same. The tom, in his current condition, simply could not lead the Clan, and so Pumafang had been chosen to follow Lionstar. Gorsetail was alive, and for that Finchcloud was enormously grateful, but he would never be the same.

The ginger tom sucked in a breath and let it out as he padded to Ivyclaw's side. "Okay. Let's do this." He still didn't really want to, but he could understand Ivyclaw's reasoning at least. And maybe she was right, anyway- his battle skills could use work. He still felt the sting of that NightClan she-cat's claws raking through his flesh, the raging fury in her eyes after she'd noticed that the old tom was dead. He might even have felt sorry for her, if not for the fact that it was extremely difficult to feel sorry for someone who was clawing you.

Tail lifting, Finchcloud padded past the fawn she-cat. "Now who's lagging?" he asked, flashing a grin at her over his shoulder as he broke into a trot, heading on toward the thicket. "Come on, slow slug!"

Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must FIGHT just to keep them ALIVE

@zen