[Fawn]

Lionstar

The crown is getting heavy
But they've written my name in the stars

Fear-scent mixed with the frigid air of leafbare. Lionstar left his jaws unparted, heat rising with each breath only to mix with the wind batting his mane against his face and ears. The rabbit did not stand a chance. To ensure he made this precious kill, Lionstar lunged, ignoring the faint twinge of pain in his limbs as he pushed his body to speeds and heights better suited to a younger tom.

Lionstar landed on it's back, driving the creature into the deep snow and muffling it's shrill scream before he rendered it silent. The stench of LightningClan mingled with fresh rabbits' blood, and Lionstar grunted, rising from the packed-down snow with the dead rabbit dangling from his jaws.

He was a fox-length over the scentline, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was the first blue sky day the valley had had in too long - and he wasn't going to waste it over worrying about a foxlength. Lionstar had just placed a paw over the scentline back into TreeClan territory when he heard a low snarl aimed at his back.

"Just because you're leader doesn't give you the right to walk where you please!"

Golden eyes swiveled, locking onto the patched-tabby features of a green-eyed warrior, their fur bristling as they stood near the blood-stained site of Lionstar's kill.

Lionstar set the rabbit down, his expression neutral. He had a war to focus on. A Clan to feed.
"If you have any complaints about me or TreeClan, take it up at the next gathering." It was a transgression Lionstar would have not tolerated well in his own Clanmates. He was being selfish and arrogant, he knew this. But more than cold arrogance, Lionstar felt tired. Tense. As if he'd never known the meaning of the word relaxation.

Hunting helped him focus, and he would be out here until ice encased his claws if that's what it took to feed the cats depending on him at home.

I've been building up all these kingdoms for so long
It's good to be king

108 Moons || TreeClan || 309 Words || Abyss

Leaf-bare 20 A painful reminder of better days, deceptively bright blue skies provide a beautiful winter day with all of the sunlight and none of the warmth, but at least the snow has finally stopped.

[Abyss]

“And just because you’re not from Treeclan doesn’t mean you can speak to him however you please, ” came a low and menacing snarl from a patch of nearby brush, leafless and dead yet still standing thick on the border. Piercing orange eyes with pupils as thin as a blade of grass glared towards the patched tabby, a low growl rumbling from the foliage. As the source of the voice emerged into the scene, a cat clearly ready for whatever this meadow-dweller had to offer made its appearance. With fur the color of dark burning fire, unsheathed claws, bared fangs, and pinned-back ears, Foxfire was the last cat to be making threats in front of to a Treeclan cat. Brandishing her newest trophies in the form of a half-torn ear and a long, scabbed scratch running from above one eye to below the other, there was a feeling of power within the Warrioress’ chest. Scars displayed one’s accomplishments and gave their owner an aura of intimidation, and, to her great pleasure, these scars were quite visible.

The fur along her spine spiked and her tail raised high in a challenging manner, there was a slight feeling of adrenaline within her chest. The thought of getting to tear into the pelt of another cat as they disrespected Lionstar. Getting to test out intricate claw movements for the second time in less than a moon. Making sure that Lightningclan still knew their place within the valley, despite Lionstar’s previous attempts at peace. All of these thoughts only brought the looming she-cat closer to the aggressor. Maybe, just maybe, the red tom of whom she was required to call Leader would allow her to test out the newest scratching post that had presented itself to them.

Then again, knowing Lionstar, he’d probably tell her no and go into some pointless spiel about how you shouldn’t attack someone with the intention to severely harm or kill them. That was just how he was. And it was irritating. But she allowed a sliver of hope to creep into her head at the chance that, for once, he would approve of some target practice.

357 | Fawn