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Post by Fate of Five Staff on Feb 2, 2019 8:48:00 GMT -5
Foxstar After yesterday's announcement of a morning battle, NightClan had sprung to life with excitement and nerves. The gleaming eyes and flexing claws confirmed Foxstar's fears; that she had made the right choice, even if it hadn't been entirely her choice to make.
Blackwolf had forced her hand. The spiteful old veteran had done what she had not; taken back the branch trail, emboldened NightClan and restored their spirit. It irked her to know that her authority - and that of her deputy - had been undermined so easily and with such startling results. But that was all water in the marsh now.
She could no longer delay a retaliation for TreeClan's greed. This...illness that had plagued her since the fox attack in Greenleaf showed no signs of slowing. Exhaustion drove her to her nest, or to the care of the medicine cats when the others rested or the camp was mostly empty. That had mitigated the whispers somewhat, but there was only so much she could do.
And in the eyes of her Clan, Foxstar wasn't doing enough.
This morning, all of that would change.
"Rookshade, Graywolf, Gloomfur, Crowflame, and Blackwolf." Her voice, raspy with disuse but sounding strong for the first time in a few moons, summoned the battle patrol to the camp entrance. They did not have to go far; many had been milling around in the dawn light, eager with the promise of attacking TreeClan's dawn patrol.
"We will take back what has been stolen from us. We will return victorious, and there will be none left who doubt our strength and our cunning, after today. Show them NightClan's viciousness, but take no lives unless you must." Foxstar's eyes swept over the group, feeling worry for the eager - and savage - expressions of her Clanmates. "The Code separates us from the common rogue. Remember what it means to be a proud warrior of NightClan."
Foxstar's gaze found Briarthroat's, and she dipped her head to her deputy, an unspoken expression of gratitude for all that he had done to keep the Clan running. Foxstar headed the patrol, and with a swift flick of her tail, brought them out of the warm dark of NightClan's camp and into the blue-gray light of dawn.
It was too cold to attack under cover of night, and the sunhigh brightness on the snow was torture to eyes more accustomed to the dark. So they compromised, and NightClan did not slow down when they reached the scentline marking the deer path as TreeClan's.
The markings were fresh. A patrol was close.
Foxstar spoke to her warriors. "Circle them. Keep them from running off for reinforcements." A battle she was prepared for; a prolonged, bloody stalemate? That was not what her Clan needed in the middle of Leafbare.
With a sharp cry and a flex of her claws, Foxstar gave the signal to attack. Date: Leafbare Day 20, Valley Year 6 Tags: williams @jet Taxx Ghost the Undead Goddess Fawn @poptart @zen Instructions: First round will be initiating the battle. Second round will be finishing up the battle (allowed to stretch into the 3rd round if needed) Third round will be NightClan victory & character reactions. (Individual battle outcomes are up to you!) Blackwolf will die in this battle. Whatever posting order is established in the first round will remain the posting order throughout. RPers may be skipped due to time constraints, if the thread seems to stall. The battles: Foxstar (NPC) vs Nightfury Briarthroat vs Whiteclaw (NPC) Blackwolf vs Brackenstride Crowflame vs Finchcloud Gloomfur (NPC) vs Ivyclaw Rookshade vs Rocktail Graywolf vs Timberfrost @poptart, treat Foxstar as an NPC to be maneuvered in your posts however you wish. Do not tag this account.
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Post by Taxx on Feb 2, 2019 10:44:28 GMT -5
Watch me, I'll make a name for myself Crowflame had been worried about Foxstar; she hadn't seemed well, and Briarthroat had been taking over more of the duties lately- organizing patrols, taking reports on what was going on on the borders and within the territory, and occasionally disappearing into Foxstar's den to consult with her- but the she-cat herself had not been leading them as she had in seasons past. Crowflame watched, but she wasn't sure what she could do, besides her duty in hunting and patrolling.
Today, though, the ginger leader was addressing them, leading them in this battle to take back the last of their land. Caught up in the excitement, Crowflame paced, tail held high and body trembling as the tension, the impatience to be going, swept around her. Yes, she was ready. And she was thrilled to be called, unable to help a quick circle to express her enthusiasm, before springing toward the other cats gathering by the entrance. Graywolf was coming too, and Blackwolf, but not Darkstorm or Ashfang this time. Blue eyes peered back at the two, regretting their absence; they were forgotten in the next minute when Foxstar and Briarthroat led the way from the camp and she followed.
She hardly felt the cold as the patrol ran, eyes bright as she kept up with her sister, charging ahead in the first light of dawn. Her ears flicked at Foxstar's last words before the patrol came in sight, and several heads turned as one as the NightClan patrol hurtled over the border toward them, and Crowflame came unexpectedly face-to-face with a small tortoiseshell she-cat.
Adderpaw would have much preferred remaining at camp, warm in her nest. But, here she was instead, trailing after the patrol in weather that was going to make some cat sick. Hemlockpaw was enjoying it; he'd greeted the first snow with a kit-like excitement that had truly amused her. She, on the other hand, found snow to be distasteful- it was cold, it killed prey or made them hide so the warriors and apprentices had to hunt harder than ever, and she was left hungry most days. Stupid snow.
She caught the rush of paws with the rest of her patrol, and then there was a taller, bigger she-cat in her face, lips curled back to reveal sharp fangs and eyes blazing. Adderpaw froze, fur on end and mind racing, but she didn't move, just stared back into the NightClan cat's blue eyes for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. And then a blur of ginger fur crashed into the white she-cat, a screech ringing in her ears. "Leave her alone!" Finchcloud yowled, facing up to the other warrior. "Run, Adderpaw!"
The clearing had exploded into battle, cries of pain and fury probably frightening every bit of prey in both territories, and Adderpaw scanned the wrestling cats, disgust quickly replacing the moment of immobility. Yes, this was a great thing to do in leafbare. What fools they all were. But, she obeyed, whipping around and streaking back in the direction of the camp to fetch aid.
Finchcloud remembered this cat all too well, and his tail lashed as she scrambled back to her paws to face him, a sneer crossing her face. "Didn't get enough last time? Come on, then. Let's see if you actually learned something since the last time I sent you running with your tail between your legs." Crowflame NightClan Warrior I won't be just another face in the crowd @zen Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess williams || Notes
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Feb 3, 2019 6:42:17 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 15 Moons It's about time.
Though she kept it in her head, it didn't stop the venom of annoyance that ran through her when Foxstar finally called for the group she had picked for this battle.
Of course, she told them yesterday about it.
So the young warrior hardly had much time to sleep. Anticipation and all. Not to mention the pride that bloomed within her chest as she had once again be chosen to fight against those filthy Treeclanners. Naturally, Graywolf was all too excited to once again join in the frenzy.
Quickly catching up to where Blackwolf had fallen instep with Foxstar and Briarthroat, the gray warrioress glanced back to see her sister join up with them. Graywolf was thrilled that the two of them got to experience this together, similar to the last time they met Treeclan at the border.
Though, Darkstorm got chosen to stay behind. Despite her lack of confidence, the gray feline would have been more so had her former mentor been apart of the group.
Or even her aunt, Hollystorm.
The proud feline made her way through the shadows that faded away with the rising of the sun. The scent of Treeclan present and as disgusting as ever, causing the she-cat to lift her lip in a snarl. A flicker of her shredded ear signaled she heard her leader's quick comment before the battle cry sounded.
From her side, Crowflame shot forwards, quicker to the punch that Graywolf had been. With out any more hesitation, the medium haired feline launched herself in the direction of the Treeclan patrol, green pools narrowing to focus her vision.
Veering off towards the apprentice that gave way from Crowflame, the young warrior made her focus to stop Adderpaw from finding anymore Treeclanners that could ruin this battle with numbers. Claws slipping from her paws to aid in traction.
Without warning the breath was knocked from Graywolf as she went tumbling to the side, ribs hurting from the force that had slammed into her from out of nowhere.
A snarl rumbled within her throat as the lithe feline pulled herself to her paws, tail lashing violently behind her to come face to face with a haunting blue gaze. Graywolf couldn't help the fact that her green orbs widened at the sight of her opponent.
She was a huge tabby cat, with broad shoulders and a muscular form. Not a hair was raised or out of place upon her close cropped, dark pelt. Her gaze was that of unimpressed as she bore holes within Graywolf with those frosted pools, a scar cutting across one eye and loong, curled claws were unsheathed from massive paws.
No wonder it felt like running into a tree...
She could put a Tigerclan warrior of old to shame.
Quickly shaking off her moment of awe, the gray feline felt her growl rumble in her chest once more, emerald pools flashing with annoyance and anger. "I hope you are at least somewhat better than the last cat I beat." She freely gloated, proud of her previous victory over Redbird.
It was unnerving when a smirk touched Timberfrost's maw and her cerulean gaze flashed with intense confidence. It caused the hair along Graywolf's spine to rise, along with the hackles that lay along her shoulders. "Be-careful what you ask for, I could easily finish the job she failed to do." Timberfrost had a cold response, tone nearly matching the ice chips within her eyes as her tail lashed behind her.
"I'd like to see you try squirrel-brain!" Graywolf snapped, fangs showing as her snarl was present upon her maw. With a wave of that plume tail of hers, the smaller feline shot forwards, the attempt that speed was quicker than brute strength flowing through her thoughts.
A massive growl parted from Timberfrost's jaws as she moved to meet the blur of gray that was heading towards her.
I'm Trouble, Y'all
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 4, 2019 19:11:51 GMT -5
The anticipation colored every bite of prey that passed Briarthroat's lips for the past several nights. Nightclan prowled along their territory, bringing back food that tasted of that hunger. The clan was hungry, no, famished for this fight. Picking cats who were eager and able to fight had been easy. They wanted their land back; because of the push from Blackwolf's paws, they knew it was possible. Foxstar and Briarthroat stayed up devising their attack and that day, he felt strong next to his leader. He matched her pace, long strides chopped short to stay at her side, but together, perhaps their clan could see why the pair was chosen. Their minds worked well together, their approach to keeping Nightclan safe but strong had worked. They could be powerful, and if Foxstar's illness progressed further, her deputy prayed to the stars winking out that her clan would remember this battle rather than the struggle it took to get to it. Treeclan was ready, a restlessness coating the border as tangible as the cats that melted from the morning fog. At Foxstar's signal, Briarthroat's lips peeled back, his growl a challenge. It was risky to have both high ranks fight but the show of force was necessary. He felt powerful walking by his leader on the way over, and lent that strength into his stance now. He stood taller than he had in the past moons-there was no reason to slouch to talk politely to these cats- letting his height force anyone crossing his path to tilt their head upward. His eyes scanned the cats, selecting the one closest to his size and age. Whiteclaw, he pulled the name from his memory, seemed to sneer at being targeted, but leapt in return to Briarthroat's charge. Their paws battered each other's shoulders before all paws hit the soil, the two toms circling for the next opening. ulla
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2019 21:34:14 GMT -5
WARRIOR | TREECLAN | 19 MOONS "Timberfrost!"
Rocktail yowled, ice and snow coming down in blinding, burning sheets. The world was white, and each step was a battle with as much snow had already covered the earth. She was just here! Rocktail swore to herself, whipping around in terror. The grey and white she-cat's senses were all muddled, she couldn't tell up from down, east from west. Snow piled up around her by the mounds, and the more she struggled, the deeper she sank in the gelid drifts. It wasn't long until she couldn't move at all. The she-cat's heart pounded in her chest, fear strangling her voice until her shouts came out in piteous squeaks. Rocktail was freezing, being buried alive. Her golden eyes strained to see one last glimpse of light, a lingering hope that she would see Timperfrost's familiar gaze peer down at her, but all turned to night.
I'm sorry, Timberfrost. I'm so sorry.
Rocktail jolted awake, the darkness of Treeclan's warrior's den a warm welcome to her sight. Her gaze shot over to Timberfrost's nest. The grey and white she-cat's heart stuttered when she noticed it was empty, shooting to her paws and bouncing out of the den. Seeing the dawn patrol at the entrance settled her down. It was just a dream. Rocktail thought, though a lingering sense of dread made her skin crawl, as if her pelt was flea ridden. As if her mange had returned all over her body. She self consciously groomed her ears, the itch and suspicion that something was wrong slowly dissipating. She was grateful to be surrounded by her clanmates. Even with prey as scarce as it was, a familiar face and the warmth of friends was something she felt like she would never take for granted again.
Rocktail had followed the dawn patrol carefully, the blindingly white landscape an unwelcome sight. With her dream still fresh in her mind, the grey spotted warrior sniffed uncomfortably at the frozen precipitation. Snow fell lazily, and although the accumulation was slow and the soft crunch mildly pleasant underpaw despite the chilly bite to her pads, Rocktail couldn't help but feeling apprehensive. The patrol was skirting the edge of Nightclan territory along the Deer Path when Rocktail finally started talking, glancing off towards Nightclan territory anxiously. There were no fresh scent markers yet. Usually...
"Hey Timberfrost," She piped up nervously, trotting up side by side her brown tabby friend. "do you feel like maybe something's a bit off today?"
Just as she finished speaking, Rocktail heard a ferocious cry that sent her fur up in spikes and horror scuttle down her spine. The grey and white she-cat spun around, but before she could find her bearings and prepare herself for battle, she was thrown off her paws and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Her lungs screamed for air and her paws scratched blindly: the advantage of surprise and many more moons of fighting experience gave the black tortoiseshell tom higher ground. There was no room for talking, Rookshade made sure of that. His attacks were fluent and fierce against the Treeclan warrior, his precision and accuracy enough to take on two Rocktail's at the same time.
No matter how hard Rocktail fought back, she felt like her opponent was always one step ahead. She couldn't glance away for a second without his jaws darting towards her neck. Starclan help us! She begged, pelt burning like fire from her wounds and muscles growing tired from constant defense. The tom was smaller than her, but his lean muscles felt like rocks, pummeling her like a hailstorm. Rocktail was soft from her excessive hunting patrols and lack of battle training, and realizing it made her chest explode with anger and self-hatred. You pathetic disgrace of a Treeclan warrior! She hissed to herself, careening into a pit of rage. For the first time the entire fight Rocktail had started holding her own, though despite having anger on her side, she was no match for Rookshade's battle prestige.
It showed from afar: the small black tom picked apart the young she-cat like a piece of prey. Cries of pain and hatred filled the morning air and crimson spattered the fresh snows as the battle for Deer Path continued.
PAIN INTO POWER Rocktail Word Count: 721 Tags: xxx Notes: xxx
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Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2019 0:40:29 GMT -5
Padding along on the dawn patrol, Ivyclaw yawned, tossing a sleepy amber glance across the border. The loss of the branch trail had been stupid. TreeClan warriors were the best in the valley, how could they have lost? She snorted her displeasure, confident that TreeClan would still have claim over the branch trail if she’d been a warrior fighting in that battle. Her jaws parted in a wide yawn and she shook out her fur, trying to wake up a bit more.
Suddenly battle cries sounded around them and she was wide awake in an instant. NightClan stench flooded her nose and her lips peeled back in a snarl as a black and white she-cat charged right at her. Her pale fur fluffed up as she hissed fury at this trespasser, skirting away from the first blow aimed at her, but the NightClanner didn’t let up. She stumbled from the second blow and Gloomfur saw the opening, acting quickly to use Ivyclaw’s brief unbalancing to her advantage.
She hit the ground as Gloomfur tackled her, but the older she-cat’s grip wasn’t firm and she managed to twist onto her back, grabbing the NightClan warrior’s leg in her teeth to hold her in place while she pummeled her vulnerable belly with unsheathed hind claws. Gloomfur screech in pain, luckily her thick fur helped to negate some of the damage and she managed to get her teeth into Ivyclaw’s exposed ear, piercing the thin flesh. As Ivyclaw released her own cry of pain, Gloomfur was able to leap away, her foreleg released.
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Post by Fawn on Feb 6, 2019 7:52:18 GMT -5
BLACKWOLF First, No Sequel do The Math, No Equal NightClan struck like a thunderstorm. That Foxstar was leading this battle was hard to miss; Blackwolf allowed a modicum of respect for their ineffectual leader. Even if she died in this fight, at least now she was showing more spine, more conviction than she had in the entirety of her service to the Clan. Foxstar looked gaunt, but the light in her eyes wasn't one of fever; she seemed composed. Focused.
Blackwolf, however, was all energy.
This morning had been one of aches and pains. Stiffness left over from last night's brawl; he had batted and mauled both Bonetail and Hollystorm in preparation for the upcoming fight. Hollystorm had been willing to accept his unforgiving battle lessons, but Bonetail's stubbornness had reared its head. The white-furred warrior had landed a solid, jarring bite to his shoulder that he was still feeling this morning.
As in the case with Foxstar, respect was hard earned but present - when it was deserved.
Bonetail was lazy, but he did not lack aggression. No self-respecting kit of his would ever roll over like a kittypet.
Foxstar's yowl unleashed the battle party, and Blackwolf surged ahead, jaws parted to take in air and TreeClan's scent. The walk to the border had winded him, but only a little. It was the weather, nothing more. The weather and the roughness of last night's training.
He would shred these TreeClan cats one by one; his age was catching up with him, he knew it, but that only made him more dangerous. His legacy was all but carved in the scars of his enemies (those he left alive, that is), even more so than in the offspring he'd sired and the kits they, in turn, had given the Clan. Blackwolf chose a young golden tom out of the pack.
He didn't care to know his name. He'd stopped caring about names after Coyoteheart had earned his. The only ones he committed to memory now belonged to his grandkits; Crowflame, Graywolf, Ghostshadow. The rest meant nothing. The other Clans meant nothing.
Blackwolf's claws sank deep into Brackenstride's pelt, the dark-golden tom lacking the thick fur of his father to protect him from NightClan's anger. The young warrior howled. Blackwolf sneered, releasing him to give the little kitten a chance to tuck tail and run home - but the young warrior faced him instead, squaring off despite the blood spiking the fur along the arch of his spine.
Blackwolf's teeth flashed in a haughty laugh, his eyes full of thirst. "Try your luck, maggot. TreeClan will lose more than the Deer Path."
Blackwolf saw the tom slither forward, saw the strike coming, but the stiffness of his leg wouldn't let him move aside quick enough. Blackwolf growled, feeling the strike - hard and unforgiving - jar through his chest. This was no skinny little runt who would balk at the first sign of danger.
"Fine, take the Deer Path." Brackenstride circled the older warrior; insolence pulled his lips back. "You're going to need somewhere to bury your dead." 91 Moons NightClan Senior Warrior 503 Words || Tags || Blackwolf joins the fray! Posting Order:@poptart Taxx Ghost the Undead Goddess williams @jet @zen Fawn
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Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2019 13:18:50 GMT -5
Worn and broken, reassembled, Forgive our thoughts when they're shameful
TreeClan - 23 Moons - She-Cat Being assigned to a boarder patrol had become a routine happening for Nightfury, she had been one of the most fit cat's in Treeclan this season. Having avoided the sickness that always plagued the clan's in leafbare Nightfury found that her temperament had driven her through the hunger pains that held many of her clanmates back, it was mind over matter after all. As the patrol ventured out of the camp to renew Treeclan's scent markers on their borders Nightfury remained vigilant, obviously there had been tension with Nightclan in recent memory. Even if these patrols had become routine complacency was not a trait Nightfury was capable of exhibiting, a fact which was expertly demonstrated that morning. As the battle cries of the Nightclan patrol filled Nightfurys' ears the black furred shecat instantly pivoted and watched the intruders approach. It was as if they moved in slow motion, and Nightfury quickly picked her target and began to counter charge. Nightclan's leader was clearly the highest priority target for Nightfury who began with a hard swipe which Foxstar narrowly dodged as Nightfury slid past her on three paws. Both cats quickly turned to face each other as Foxstar began, "This i-" however she wasn't as lucky this time as Nightfury slapped the words out of her mouth.
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Post by Taxx on Feb 9, 2019 13:51:21 GMT -5
Watch me, I'll make a name for myself For a moment, the two cats faced each other, ears back and fangs bared, claws unsheathed, tails lashing. Finchcloud was definitely bigger, but Crowflame was sure she could see wariness in his gaze, probably remembering the outcome of the last time they'd come face to face. All the better for her, and with a hiss Crowflame flashed out a paw; Finchcloud jerked back and Crowflame took the split second he was off focus to spring.
She crashed into the ginger tom and raked her claws down his face; his eyes squeezed shut to protect them while his front paws wrapped around the she-cat and he twisted, pinning her beneath him; her hind legs churned against his flank as she hissed, but despite the pain of it, Finchcloud hung on and sank his jaws into the white fur, biting deep. Crowflame shrieked, her head twisting to bite back, jaws clamping agonizingly onto Finchcloud's ear.
He couldn't help a whimper- she was chewing on it, and her paws were still scoring against him- it was a bad hold, and even if he had her pinned, she was definitely doing more damage. He had to let her go. He released, ripping his ear from her jaws and hurling himself away. Blood ran into one eye, forcing him to close it again, and his right hind leg throbbed- he could barely put weight on it. But he faced the white NightClan cat again as she hissed- blood ran down her shoulder, he noticed- and met her head on as she sprang at him again. Crowflame NightClan Warrior I won't be just another face in the crowd @zen Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess williams @poptart || Notes
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Feb 11, 2019 5:57:22 GMT -5
Timberfrost The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder There had been a reason the massive tabby had wanted to go on patrol near the Nightclan border. After the previous loss of territory days prior, the battle ready feline had been awaiting her chance to sink those curved claws of hers into any stinking pelt that belonged to the pines.
Temperament frosty as ever, it didn't take long for the surprise of Nightclan's attack to settle within her skull. Sound dulling away from her ears momentarily, frozen cerulean pools darted from form to form as cats engaged each other in violent contact.
Blood pumped within Timberfrost's veins as the tabby warrior pinpointed her target, massive paws sending her forwards on a collision course with a quick, gray blur. Successfully blocking the path of Adderpaw, Timberfrost flicked her tail slowly, methodically as she mused within her mind.
Frosted blue met fierce green and a smirk threatened to curl upon Timberfrost's maw. Which she let it slip as insults were passed to and fro between the two young she-cats.
With a snarl the massive she-cat moved forwards, her battle prowess intimidating as she moved rather nimbly for a large feline. Graywolf, of course, was quick as a rabbit, darting back and forth in an attempt to find some sort of weak point upon the larger warrior she was facing. Each burst of speed was met with a heavy paw as Timberfrost went to bat her away, claws out in a dangerous manner. It was almost like the Treeclanner was playing a little game of cat and mouse, and only occasionally would Graywolf manage to snag her own claws into a shoulder or a side before being knocked backwards.
Timberfrost found it amusing, and it only strengthened her resolve that Treeclan was far superior to Nightclan. How the previous patrol lost was still a mystery to her.
"Don't tell me you're giving up already?" Timberfrost's tone wave frosty and vicious as she growled at her opponent, ultimately looking down on the other she-cat as if she weren't even worth the tabby's time or effort.
She Cat | 20 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 15 Moons She was growing irritated with getting knocked back over and over again. She was barely landing any blows upon the massive warrior's pelt, aside from a quick slash over a shoulder and a jab at her flank.
The gray feline would have thought with all that bulk and weight that the Treeclanner would have lacked speed and precision. Apparently, Graywolf had been wrong to assume that. Which, of course, she was not pleased with.
Her ribs still ached from where Timberfrost had slammed into her early, breathing a little off as she attempted to fight through the burning pain within her chest. It probably didn't help that the air around them was freezing and each inhale of breath brought that coldness into her sore lungs.
Despite her internal complaining, Graywolf was not about to give up.
A snarl still present upon her muzzle, the lithe feline lashed her tail with pure anger. Green pools blazed like a fire as a growl grew from within her chest. Similar to the last time she battled, she gave her namesake a nod with the rumble.
"I'm just getting started..." Graywolf lashed out, voice high with fury before she launched herself forwards, similar to that of a rabbit freeing itself from a burrow in attempt to escape the hunt. Hackles raised in attempt to give her a bigger look, the medium length feline quickly charged down her opponent.
Side stepping at the last moment, Timberfrost dodged the initial attack before snarling as fangs sank into her shoulder. Graywolf had managed to grab a-hold of the tabby warrior just at the right moment, paws sending a spray of snow as she moved with balanced speed.
Giving her just enough time to taste the tang of blood, Graywolf was ripped free as Timberfrost clamped her own jaws around the back of the gray feline's neck. It sent an automatic chill down the Nightclanner's back, the faint feeling of her life ending surged within her mind.
With a loud yowl, Graywolf twisted her body the best she could and landed a sound blow to Timberfrost's face, claws scrapping down her already scared eye. Pulled free, the gray feline went in for another attack but was met with a massive paw to her own face, knocking her backwards as claws tore through the still healing flesh of her ear.
Seriously!
Graywolf stumbled backwards, crimson blood dotting the white snow around her paws as she attempted to focus her dazed gaze. Blood tricked from a scratch across the bridge of her nose, and one of her cheeks as well as the re-opened wound from her ear, the crimson liquid threatening to dribble into her eyes.
She wasn't the only one bleeding though, and the younger warrior was proud that she had managed to mar up the tabby warrior's pelt. Her shoulder was matted with blood from where Graywolf's fangs had punctured through the thick skin, as well as dripping down her face from where the scar across one frozen eye had been ripped open slightly.
Graywolf was growing increasingly frustrated that there had been no give from Timberfrost, and yet she herself had not given any leeway either. In the battle between power against speed, it seemed to grow to a standstill.
Not that that would stop Graywolf from trying. Feathered tail lashing, the gray she-cat snarled once more her mind set for another attempt to take the massive warrior's legs out from underneath her, ground her. I'm Trouble, Y'all 578 Words || Fawn @zen @poptart || Notes
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 13, 2019 21:41:55 GMT -5
The swell of screeches and bodies hitting each other didn't phase the two toms. Their focus was on each other, though the deputy kept an eye out for his clanmates. They were holding their own, as he knew they would, and that sight made the weight on his shoulders lessen. Then, two cats came rolling through. Briarthroat neatly stepped out of the way, and subsequently flung off his paws by Whiteclaw's body checking into him. With a growl, he took the hit and continued to roll. Here his lithe frame worked in his advantage, snaking out so he wasn't trapped underneath. When he was able to breathe, Briarthroat dove back in, teeth finding a joint in Whiteclaw's back leg. The Treeclan tom howled, kicking out faster than expected. He took the hit too, though his head might regret doing so later. Briarthroat's ears rang and his vision wobbled, but he held firm, front claws scratching lines down the Treeclan tom's sides. Then as quickly as it had started, it was over. Whiteclaw kicked out once more, back claws catching against Briarthroat's cheek, then he rolled off and ran with a very noticeable limp, a trail of red following. Winded, the deputy gave himself a moment to just sit, breathe deeply until his ears focused on the sounds around him. He focused primarily on his leader, knowing her odd illness would prevent her from attacking at the full power he knew she had. Breath caught, Briarthroat got to his paws. He drew a lazy circle around the pair, watching without interfering unless his leader called for it. ulla
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Post by Deleted on Feb 17, 2019 23:08:33 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS He felt alive.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins like fire. He felt the TreeClanner's flesh split beneath his claws, her hissing and thrashing making Rookshade irritated. Couldn't he have gotten a more challenging opponent? It was too easy to dodge the she-cat's claws, though one well-placed blow of hers sent him reeling backwards with a growl. He got too arrogant: he wasn't going to underestimate this cat anymore. The tortoiseshell tom wasted not one moment, leaping back into the fray relentlessly. This was no time for conversation.
This was war.
The she-cat recoiled as he slammed into her, though Rookshade's weight wasn't enough to throw her off her paws. He quickly slipped around her, nipping and clawing where he could, though his adversary was growing more accustomed to his nimbleness. He had to step up his game, his power.
Rookshade wanted nothing more than to see her fleeing into the woods like the coward she was.
The grey and white warrior tried to get in a better position, though Rookshade was far quicker than the she-cat, constantly one step ahead. Without much effort, the tortoiseshell tom had persistently battered the she-cat without hesitation up until now, though he was getting angry. The NightClan tom channeled it into a vicious, well-placed bite to the side of her neck.
Non-lethal of course.
He felt her screech in pain, flailing dangerously, though he had a firm, unwavering hold. Eventually, the TreeClanner sent a powerful kick his way, burying her hind leg into his gut. Rookshade smiled as he regained his breath.
There weren't many things better than this.
Rookshade jumped on his opponent's back, scraping his claws down her spine, whispering one thing to Rocktail in a raspy, grim rumble.
"Run."
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade Word Count: 301 Tags: @zen Notes: xxx
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Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2019 14:48:28 GMT -5
Ivyclaw scrambled to her paws as Gloomfur circled around, lips peeled back in a snarl. Ivyclaw’s amber gaze never left her opponent, even as her ears twitched to follow the sounds of battle around her. One of Gloomfur’s Clanmates could come to help her at any moment, and Ivyclaw would not be caught unaware. Her ear stung and she could feel the blood seeping into the fur on top of her head. “You’re gonna pay for that, mangepelt!” she growled at the NightClan she-cat, fur bristling. Gloomfur snorted, clearly unintimidated, and sneered, “Who’s gonna make me?” Ivyclaw snarled, “Pay attention and maybe you’ll learn something!” With that she launched at her opponent. Gloomfur sidestepped easily, but Ivyclaw was ready for her, throwing all her weight sideways as she landed and knocking the NightClanner off balance with the unexpected move. As Gloomfur stumbled, Ivyclaw rolled and thrust upward hard with her hind legs, catching the black and white she-cat in the belly once more and knocking the breath right out of her as she was shoved away once more. Back on her paws, Ivyclaw tackled the other she-cat to the ground as she was trying to catch her breath and aimed a vicious bite for her enemy’s shoulder, but the movement shook blood from her ear into one eye and she reared back unexpectedly as she blinked rapidly to clear it. Gloomfur saw her chance, wrapped her paws around Ivyclaw’s neck and wrestled her to the ground instead, pummeling her belly. Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Feb 23, 2019 0:13:46 GMT -5
Brackenstride TreeClan || 15 Moons || Tom The slash on his cheek dripped blood into his mouth and off the ends of a few whiskers, staining gold fur brown. Blackwolf was formidable. The old brawler lived up to his hype, and age had not dulled his claws. Similar cuts and scratches painted stripes on Brackenstride's body; though they bled greatly, they were shallow. The flesh and muscle underneath were strong, warmed from the vigors of dodging and skirting most of the old tom's strikes.
Feathercloud's teachings had paid off.
Though the savage look in Blackwolf's eyes and the leering flash of teeth never left, it was clear to Brackenstride that the NightClan warrior was slowing down. A stiffness in his back legs spoke of old wounds that had never quite healed right; there was a limp when Blackwolf circled him, shaking blood off his ear from where Brackenstride's claws had scoured it.
The older tom could see him scrutinizing, analyzing, looking for weaknesses.
Tails lashed. Claws flexed. Yowls of pain and triumph nearby almost wrenched Brackenstride's focus away. Are we winning? Are we losing? Foxdung, I can't take my eyes off him for a second.
Suddenly the gray-muzzled warrior was in front of him; Brackenstride hissed in shock, leaning sharply to the left as he saw a rightside strike a heartbeat from his face. But it was a feint. Claws caught him deep in the shoulder, wrenching Brackenstride off balance as the old warrior toppled him.
Snow, flattened and stained beneath him, felt cool against burning cuts and fevered skin. ✣ Tags || Words || Notes BLACKWOLF First, No Sequel do The Math, No Equal Blackwolf breathed hard into the winter air, clouds of heat and ice slipping past his jaws as a raspy laugh reached the surface. "Not bad, for a filthy little TreeClan cat." Blackwolf pinned the smaller warrior into the ground, letting his weight crush into Brackenstride's golden flank and shoulder, ignoring the flail of limbs as the little runt tried to regain his footing.
Blackwolf sneered. This little warrior was too cocksure, too full of himself to realize the full dangers of fighting NightClan; Blackwolf pressed his paw to the back of Brackenstride’s neck, claws pricking the skin under golden fur.
He toyed with the runt, letting him flail and get his paws under him once, twice - before cruelly knocking him down. Blackwolf’s pulse raced, making his wounds feel superficial in light of a satisfying little game. The cat he had fought in the Branch Trail battle hadn’t be as fast or as bold, but in the end it didn’t matter.
Blackwolf was old now, but he was far from defeated. He could still spill blood and take lives in the name of his Clan, in the name of repairing the damage their pathetic excuse for a leader had so often ignored.
”You're a joke.” Blackwolf laughed under his breath. 91 Moons NightClan Senior Warrior Words || Tags || Notes Brackenstride TreeClan || 15 Moons || Tom Brackenstride’s limbs shuddered from the excess weight of the NightClan warrior on top of him, his back burning from the sting of claws. He gave off a fear scent, he knew it. The press of a paw on his windpipe had been enough to turned stubborn twisting into full on thrashing; Brackenstride’s throat burned now with bile, with the hatred boiling in his belly for this sadistic warrior.
Brackenstride lurched to the side, pretending to have lost his already questionable balance. He continued to roll, trying to get away from under Blackwolf’s claws even if it cost him some flesh and fur.
The old warrior took a second too long to react, and his swipe cut through empty air.
”That’s funny,” Brackenstride panted, body screaming at him to throw the warrior off before he tried choking him again. ”I was gonna say the same thing to you."
Without further thought, Brackenstride charged his opponent, ignoring the snap of teeth and ripping claws as he slammed his weight into Blackwolf’s body - specifically the tom’s right back leg. ✣ Tags || Words || Notes BLACKWOLF First, No Sequel do The Math, No Equal Pain exploded in Blackwolf’s head like a savage blow from Demon; he howled with rage and agony both, murder in his eyes as his entire right leg seized up, feeling the wound deep in his bones wail under the assault.
”I’ll kill you, you little maggot. I’ll rip your throat out and leave you to the crows!” Snarling, he could scarcely hear the fighting going on elsewhere - and he didn’t give a damn. Nothing else mattered except putting this little runt in his place. Not even the experienced warrior Sprucefur had hurt him so badly.
Somewhere in the back of Blackwolf’s mind, underneath the blinding rage, he knew the fault was his own. In trying to teach this brat a lesson, he’d gotten too cocky. You’re too slow, old gray-muzzle, sneered the young warrior he’d once been. Blackwolf threw himself at Brackenstride, the fight changing tone as he sank his teeth onto the TreeClanner’s shoulder, tasting blood and wanting more.
I’ll rip you limb from limb you little piece of foxdung.
Brackenstride roared, and Blackwolf’s world tilted as the young warrior threw him away. The landing put black spots in his eyes and sent a tremor of agony that almost stole the strength from his remaining limbs. It was clear now that he’d reinjured something. Broken something.
No. He was not going to lose to this little—
Brackenstride lunged. In another whorl of writhing, snarling bodies, Blackwolf felt teeth graze the back of his neck.
No.
Brackenstride bit down.
A strangled howl bubbled up from Blackwolf’s jaws. Suddenly he was the one flailing, the one pinned beneath the might of a stronger opponent. Desperation and fear crashed like a tidal wave, and he raged against it, even as he felt his limbs start to weaken.
It hadn’t been a clean bite; blood pooled in the old tom’s fur and onto the snow, made worse by his feeble struggling.
The younger tom lurched away, watching with narrowed eyes that steadily widened as they both began to realize Blackwolf would not be getting up again.
Foxdung. I won’t lose to a TreeClan cat. He tried to raise his head, but couldn’t. Even his claws were threatening to sheathe - to give in to the inevitable - but Blackwolf forced them to remain ready for one last strike.
Just one more. One more and then he could…
Blackwolf shuddered, leering up at the shocked expression on Brackenstride’s face.
”Pathetic,” Blackwolf rasped from a puddle of his own blood. Vision fading, mismatched eyes no longer took in the living world. I don’t want to die. The fear scent was his own now, and he had not the strength to grit his teeth, to hold on any more. But another scent mingled in with that fear of the unknown - one he knew by heart.
The soft brush of a feathery black tail against his chin, calmed him. He could not tell if she was trying to wipe away the blood, or mock him for falling in battle against TreeClan.
In that moment, that heartbeat of where he hovered between life and death, Blackwolf couldn’t bring himself to care. This wasn’t his fight anymore. This fight belonged to Hollystorm, Bonetail, Coyoteheart. Crowflame, Ghostshadow and Graywolf. To Darkstorm.
Fine. I’m leaving this battle to you. You’d better not lose.
The old brawler died, his last breath lost in the chaos of the battle. But his legacy lived on - a savage, many-clawed beast that would continue on in his place.
He had given everything to NightClan. His strength. His knowledge. His lineage.
They’d better not mess this up. 91 Moons NightClan Senior Warrior Words || Tags || Notes Words: 1,246 Words Tags: @poptart Taxx Ghost the Undead Goddess williams @jet @zen
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Post by Taxx on Mar 8, 2019 19:38:25 GMT -5
Watch me, I'll make a name for myself Finchcloud dodged, ducking out of the way of the NightClan cat's leap, spinning as she flew past and landing a solid blow on her shoulder. His surge of pride was all too quickly doused as she whirled back, ears flat and eyes narrowed, a furious hiss drawing her jaws apart and giving him an all-too-clear look at sharp fangs. In her eyes was nothing but fury and the heat of battle- another heartbeat and she lunged again.
However, when Finchcloud attempted once more to spin out of reach, Crowflame was ready for him. He'd fooled her once, but she wasn't going to make the same mistake a second time. They crashed together and the ginger tom, unbalanced, toppled onto his side. Crowflame scored him twice with her claws before his hind legs kicked up into her belly and flung her off. She hit the ground heavily, but rolled with the impact and was on her paws smoothly- but when she would have lunged back to the attack, her gaze caught on something beyond Finchcloud, and for a moment her vision tunneled, eyes wide as she stared at the form of Blackwolf lying limp on the ground.
No movement- not even the rise and fall of his ribs as he breathed, and the moment of shock flipped in the blink of an eye to a searing grief and rage. She hurled herself forward- not at Finchcloud, but at the tom standing over her grandfather's body; when Finchcloud intercepted her, it was on him her fury vented. She struck, again and again, claws raking down his cheek, his nose, dangerously close to an eye, and she hardly reacted when he managed to strike back, his own claws slicing through the fur on her neck and spilling blood. Any attempt at defense was forgotten, and so was the desire to toy with him- fury fueled her actions now, and she lashed out again and again, forcing Finchcloud to retreat, step by step, back toward TreeClan's forests. Crowflame NightClan Warrior I won't be just another face in the crowd @zen Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess williams @poptart || Notes
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