[Deleted]

Pumafang was on guard duty tonight with Brackenstride.

The wind wasn't in their favor, but that didn't stop Pumafang's dull, amber gaze from scouring the depths of TreeClan territory. NightClan was bound for revenge. Him and a few clanmates had personally escorted that thieving, murdering NightClan patrol to the mountains, driving them out of the valley like the rogues they were. It was a shame they made it back at all. The night air was fresh, and still as a statue Pumafang waited the night away, his massive body and Brackenstride's tabby form blocking the entrance into the hollow tree his clan called home. His eyes traced the ancient stump. Somewhere inside lay his leader.

Pumafang pulled himself to his paws and began walking towards Lionstar's den, a precaution. His leader was apart of the clan too. How easy it would be too, to storm the ancient stump and take out TreeClan's icon? Pumafang pushed the thought out of his head. He circled the ancient stump quietly before making his way back the camp's entrance. When he was halfway there, the scent of NightClan swamped him as the wind shifted. Pumafang's fur rose ominously along his spine.

"Lionstar!" Pumafang yowled, lurching towards camp. He burst inside the hollow tree and let out a howl. What an interesting move from their shadowy neighbors. "Wake up! Everyone, defend yourselves! NightClan is attacking our camp!"

Pumafang spun around and blocked the entrance with his brawn. And here I thought guard duty was boring. Pumafang mused, muscles rippling with power. Moments later, a wave of able-bodied warriors smashed into him like a tidal wave. His heart beat slow and steady, like a metronome despite the chaos. He growled and struck out like a panther, but the warriors smashed through him like water, shoving him into camp with yowls of fury.

"Attack!" Pumafang howled, crushing a NightClanner beneath him. He heard her cry out in pain. "Attack!"

He would yell it however much he had to. His claws and jaws found purchase in as many pelts as he could latch onto, ripping a slender brown she-cat to the ground. His claws scoured deeply, trapping her momentarily with an iron grip. He felt blood wet his paws. A weight dropped on top of him, making his already cumbersome movement even slower, though the weight didn't drop him to his knees.

Nothing ever would.

Pumafang felt the needling of sharp claws scrape down his spine and make him bleed. He smiled, lurching forward on top of another NightClanner and crashing down on the assailant like a boulder. He managed to roll on top of his rider, smashing his rival into the ground with an angry thud. He heard the gasp. Satisfaction rushed through Pumafang's body like desire fulfilled, blood-lust deepening his amber gaze. His pupils sucked in his surroundings like black holes, empty, cold, and emotionless despite the ring of fire that laced them. Pumafang didn't stop fighting, but the NightClanners were like gnats. Dull agitation grew in the pit of his stomach as he swatted out and missed more times than he could count. Sometimes he wished he had Glacierpaw's speed.

Light grey fur flashed out of the corner of Pumafang's eye like the twinkling of a star on a cloudy night.

Speaking of which. Pumafang thought, watching as a NightClanner advanced towards his apprentice menacingly. Pumafang slunk forward like a silent shadow, but Timberfrost beat him to it, the massive brown tabby she-cat sending the scandalous warrior smashing to the ground with a smack. As if NightClan spawned exponentially, two more warriors flocked to his side. They just don't die do they? Pumafang pondered, breathing heavily, blood welling above his right eye. He shifted closer to his apprentice.

"Like we've practiced, Glacierpaw." Pumafang released a sinister rumble that made their opponents hesitate. The massive, dense, chocolate-black tom was nightmarish, amber eyes shedding a muted glow absent of everything other than an unshakable ruthlessness. Pumafang smiled mercilessly, tail twitching with amusement.

What he wanted more than anything right now was for these NightClanners to feel the wrath of Glacierpaw's celerity.

Pumafang lumbered forward threateningly, circling the trespassers like a panther prowling before a hunt. The next words he spoke were deep and thunderous.

"I hope you came here ready to die."


KARAZHAL

[KARAZHAL]

The home of Glacierpaw and his fellow TreeClanners was a massive log. The branches that hadn't snapped under the weight of its fall impaled the ground, keeping it in place, and its hollowed out middle was a great wooden tunnel. One way in, one way out -- most thought, and they would be wrong; the apprentices had to keep up with their home's maintenance every day. That included plugging up any holes or covering broken sections. In an emergency, the hatches could burst open with cats streaming out of any orifice where most enemies would expect a stampede from either opening. Before going to bed, Glacierpaw hadn't expected Pumafang's drills would become reality.

He was a light sleeper; he could blame his sisters for that, waking him up for the slightest thing when they were kits. So when it came to his training, he wasn't like the apprentices who struggled to wake up and yawned the whole way through practice until they had a squirrel in their belly. Mistylight wanted him to be a guardian. Pumafang wanted him to be a warrior. What did Glacierpaw want to be? A friend, someone strong and reliable, someone happy. He was already all of those things though. Didn't he have ambitions?

A fell stench suddenly prickled his nose, and he awoke with a snap to a smell like crowfood filtering in through the tree. Glacierpaw's eyes squinted. He rolled over silently and cautiously lifted himself upright. Yowls broke out, and abruptly he recognized the grunting, exerting sounds of cats fighting. Glacierpaw began waking up every cat around him. As he stood over his sisters, he realized with dread that Asterpaw was not in a nest. He nosed the younger she-cats insistently and urged them out. Although Rosepaw initially complained, she was cut off by Pumafang's booming voice--Attack! Attack! Glacierpaw lowered his wedge-like head and bunted her in the side. "Go. Climb the tree with the old owl's nest. I'll return for you when it's over," he grunted. Looking at Cherrypaw, he nodded stiffly at her, hoping she'd rein in her sister's temptation for panic when things went out of her control. Glacierpaw watched them scurry out of the apprentice's emergency exit and into the tall grass. He slid out behind them like a weasel.

Scenting blood in the air, he puffed out his fur and his tail lashed back and forth. His huge ears swiveled in his attempts to assess the situation. His sisters would be okay. As long as he followed his training, he would be okay. But what about Asterpaw? Glacierpaw couldn't scent him in all the chaos. Little did he know that someone had eyes locked on him. The NightClan warrior may have gone completely unnoticed if he hadn't uttered a vicious growl. Glacierpaw turned to see a huge loping shadow charging right at him. Thank StarClan for Pumafang's training; the enemy looked just like his mentor, and he was practically relieved at the familiarity. A strange sense of calmness frosted over his eyes.

Go for the legs. His claws unsheathed. Force them to follow. Glacierpaw prepared himself, crouching and leaping onto the huge log he called home, the place he would protect with his life. Don't hesitate. Follow through with killing intent, for you can certainly expect it from them. If they got the chance, NightClan would take everything away from him in this moment. Kill or be killed. Protect well, or there will be nothing to protect.

Find Asterpaw.

Glacierpaw's claws hooked into the bark and propelled himself past Blackstag, bouncing off the big log and landing behind the tom. Glancing behind him, he glimpsed the fluffy form of Timberfrost barrelling into his attacker, and hell broke loose to the tunes of hissing and teeth crunching. A vicious roar erupted just as he turned the corner, now at the entryway to camp between the great stump and the fallen log. Heavy paws were heard in this corridor as NightClan cats fell upon the guards and sleepy warriors. He nearly collided into his mentor, but slid to a stop, his hindquarters meeting Pumafang's so that they were back to back. Two NightClan cats leapt forward hungry for battle. Like hyenas, they slunk around the duo, baring teeth at the skinnier tom. Glacierpaw felt hot wrath scorch his cool heart, and he too bared his teeth and hissed loudly at the threat. Steam puffed out of his open maw and nostrils. Not once had he ever shown his mentor a range of emotions. His chiseled face hardly broke for laughter, despite his love for jokes. Who was this Glacierpaw with an arched neck like a snake poised to strike, venomous fangs bared and whiptail rattling?

Like we've practiced.

He sought out the NightClanner's eyes. Trying to focus on their bodies was impossible in half-moonlight; under the shadows of many trees, NightClan had a monstrous advantage except for their eyes, gleaming just like prey's eyes did. Glacierpaw bowed his head and separated from Pumafang silently. Their opponents split up. He saw one following him, the other more hesitant. He didn't need to look back to feel his mentor walking in earthquakes. Pumafang rumbled something at them. Glacierpaw didn't quite catch it; the moment his opponent's eyes twitched toward Pumafang, the wind filled his huge ears, forcing him to tuck them back like bat wings in flight. He pounced on the warrior and as she lifted up her forelegs to parry, his longer ones pushed them back using his powerful momentum. Glacierpaw's teeth fell against the space between ear and jaw, and he bit into the folds of skin as hard as he could. He sank in with the same intense determination of his hunts. The NightClan warrior battered away at him and tore herself free, scattering fur and blood. Glacierpaw staggered away from her. His pretty silver fur was clotted in the warrior's blood-tipped claws. His ruff protected him from the worst of it.

The other NightClan warrior leapt forward to cover her clanmate. Glacierpaw leapt sideways, tail flailing, and she fell in hot pursuit with claws outstretched and spit flying. All he had to do was extend those legs and one fox-lengths ahead became two. When he arced into a turn, the she-cat attempted to cut him off and he simply leapt over her in steeplechase fashion, although he landed right in front of the cat he'd just injured. The warrior yowled and swiped at him as if in slow motion. He twisted his body, making full use of that lanky ribbonous frame to shimmy just out of reach.

The two warriors' sides heaved after all the running around and chasing. They glared at Glacierpaw, the pesky squirrel-in-cat's-clothing that he was. He had drawn their attention onto him with his acrobatics and grouped them back together in shadow. "Enough games, flyboy. Face death like a tom," the she-cat sneered. The one who dripped blood said nothing; the look of hate in their eyes was telling enough.

"Here, it's death who faces you," Glacierpaw replied softly.

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ooc: me on the sidelines: KILL THOSE MFs!!!!!!! @jet here's the alley-oop for pumafang

[Deleted]

With that, Pumafang attacked with all the power of shadows on his side.

The NightClanner let out an otherworldly gasp as her body gave out, the weight of TreeClan's deputy on top of her far too much for her legs to bear. Pumafang's jaws maneuvered skillfully as she collapsed on her side, wrapping around her throat greedily. He felt blood soak his maw as he crunched down, his density pressing the she-cat further into TreeClan's hollow ground. He heard her gurgle and garble her last pleas through mouthfuls of blood, suffocating under the weight of NightClan's mistake. The other cat backed away slightly, shock pouring profusely from her gaze. Though her hesitation only lasted moments.

More NightClan cats came pouring into TreeClan's camp like a swarm of wasps.

Pumafang hissed in frustration, lunging for the she-cat with her clanmate's blood still wet on his muzzle. His front paws met her shoulders and sent her reeling backwards. He felt the teeth and claws of more NightClanners tear him away. Pumafang was surrounded by a flurry of hisses and cries, though none were his own. He felt blood drip down his sides. He felt NightClan close in on top of him like a landslide, though a large upward leap sent the cat on his back sliding to the ground. Pumafang lunged out and viciously tore a familiar tom to the floor of TreeClan's camp with a powerful thud, eyes emanating merciless resolve.

Whether it was Glacierpaw who occupied Deerleap's clanmates or someone else, Pumafang did not know nor did he care.

He released an exhale tainted with laughter, watching the tom squirm beneath his weight. He wouldn't end this too quick. What was NightClan thinking, storming TreeClan's camp? They were far outnumbered, and it seemed like surprise alone wasn't enough to give them an edge. Pumafang loosened his grip on the tom, composing himself. He watched the NightClan warrior slip out of his hold and jump to his paws.

"Seems like the savior needs saving now." Pumafang growled, limping slightly.

Deerleap lunged towards him, changing aim practically in mid air. Pumafang couldn't react fast enough. The tom smashed into him, sending TreeClan's deputy stumbling to the side. Nice try. Pumafang mused, a menacing smile creasing his lips. He swatted out, but Deerleap managed to dodge on multiple occasions. The tom was good, he had to admit, but not good enough.

Too predictable and basic. There wasn't an ingenuitive bone in the NightClanner's body.

The tom was more nimble than quick, which was a fine pairing with the cumbersome Pumafang, but there was hardly a more calculating cat in the valley than TreeClan's deputy. He saw the world through an analytical lens, and as Deerleap lurched forward again, Pumafang saw him recalculate. He saw the tom's eyes dart to his hind end. A fatal mistake. Pumafang reared, spinning around on his haunches, pressing down on the tom as he landed. A good fighter, but his lower intelligence would be the death of him.

It was a slight against Pumafang, the tom thinking he could use the same maneuver twice.

"A good try," Pumafang's deep voice resonated against the wall he pressed Deerleap against, claws tearing against the tom's throat. "But sadly, not good enough."

TreeClan's deputy let out a low, bone-chilling laugh before lunging forward at his adversary's throat. He felt claws tearing furiously at his body in the tom's desperate escape from death, but to no avail. Pumafang's eyes were closed. He heard the screeches of battle in the background, but when he felt his teeth clamp down on the tom's throat, when he tasted the NightClanner's blood? It felt like the whole world grew quiet. He chomped greedily, as if the cat beneath him was a juicy piece of fresh-kill. Deerleap let out a terrified, muddled cry, squirming like a kitten before growing limp.

Pumafang held on a few moments longer, relishing in his power, before releasing his kill and turning back to Glacierpaw with a low, muted growl. His cold, dead amber gaze found purchase.

"I am death."

KARAZHAL

[KARAZHAL]

His mentor tore at their enemies with the voracity of a lion. The she-cat died eyes bulging and throat bubbling, like so many mice and squirrels hunted on the excursions with Glacierpaw. He'd overcome his aversion to prey death easily enough, but never before had he seen another cat die. He'd only been told stories of Pumafang's ruthless prowess, but now he was witnessing it. The air was suddenly static-y with all the noise and tension. Right before Glacierpaw's eyes, cats smelling of NightClan appeared with all claws out. His mouth soured with the taste of true fear.

A NightClan warrior took advantage of the apprentice's inexperience in war and leapt on him while Pumafang was occupied. Another bit his tail. Glacierpaw rolled with the onslaught, falling on his back in order to bring out all of his claws. He kicked out at the one biting his tail. His hindclaws tore across his assailant's muzzle but his upper half was occupied by a tabby trading swats with him. Glacierpaw hissed loudly and pushed his whole body sideways across the forest floor. In a flash, he righted himself and kicked up dirt into the NightClanner's mouth just as his enemy's teeth snapped at his heels. Claws snatched at his fur and came up with tufts.

They're going to kill me if I don't kill them first! he reminded himself forcefully. Just relying on his speed wouldn't chase NightClan out of camp. Pumafang had shown him that might was right. Teaching them to fear TreeClan warriors was the only way.

Using his lightning speed, Glacierpaw spun about on his pursuer, and while they seemed surprised at his boldness, they smirked and leapt right for him. They met mid-air and hit the leafy ground on their shoulders, fur flying, hisses spitting. They rolled around several times. Pinning his ears to the side, he bore the assault of claws cutting across his belly and sides. He yowled in pain but kept biting and wrestling his opponent. He threw the NightClan cat against part of the great log. The bite on his foreleg relented, and with another fierce yowl, Glacierpaw shot forward and sank his teeth into his opponent's ear. He pierced through, tasting blood immediately when the NightClanner's head yanked sideways and tore itself free. Glacierpaw was shoved backwards. Skidding, he arched his long body to looking as intimidating as possible, standing high on those tall legs and bushing out his tail. He yowled low and angrily to threaten the older cat into giving in. He was hardly as fearsome as Mr. "I-am-death" Pumafang, but it did the trick. Glacierpaw's opponent swung around just to be confronted with the dead amber eyes of the TreeClan deputy.

"No... please, not you," the soon-to-be-dead cat sighed.

Around them, the camp was alight with the fires of battle, but in the bloody shadows, Glacierpaw's mentor was king.



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ooc: i spent like 15 minutes watching cat fight videos on youtube trying to figure out what this battle would look like. turns out it's about 80% posturing and yowling with 20% swatting and rolling.

[Deleted]

“Well done, Glacierpaw. It seems we might have another casualty of war.”

TreeClan’s deputy prowled forward towards their pleading foe, voice deep and menacing. His eyes consumed the toms fear like a black hole, sucking away all hope and being. The tom was cornered between shadows and stars, the mentor and his apprentice enough fight for him ten times over.

Pumafang was hardly humble.

“What shall we do, Glacierpaw?” The massive black tom growled, the faint hint of a question on his tongue.

It was his apprentice who trapped this one, and it would be Glacierpaw to decide his fate. Pumafang was indifferent either way, the fear in this toms eyes and posture making his heart skip with glee. Respect was a drug. Pumafang couldn’t get enough of it.

Though he knew there were some more morally centered than himself, and Pumafang suspected Glacierpaw to be the more honorable type. This the dark titan stood, still as stone, awaiting his calling.

Pumafang’s tail twitched, voice ringing out deep and thunderous.

“His fate is yours.”

[KARAZHAL]

Glacierpaw's thick silvery ruff puffed out, except for the matted patches of dark blood. The narrow-faced tom pressed his muzzle down, and he stared down his nose at the cornered NightClan cat. He could see the whites of their opponent's rolling eyes. His jackal-like ears swung forward as his mentor spoke, but Glacierpaw did not take his eyes off their enemy, keeping it cornered down like the attack dog he was. He did not like the scent of fear and blood in the air. More than anything, he wanted the stench of NightClan out of their camp.

It felt strange for Pumafang to leave the decision making to him. Glacierpaw paused, but rather than appearing unsure, he shifted instead to the Warrior Code. The Code stated that an honorable warrior did not need to kill to win their battles. Mistylight at least had taught him the basic tenets of being in a warrior cat clan, even if she just intended him to be the personal bodyguard of her two daughters. With the thought of being an honorable warrior in mind, he reached up a paw and brought it down with a clap on the NightClan cat's hindquarters.

"Get out of here!" Glacierpaw hissed firmly. "And tell the rest of your clan to keep out of the trees if they know what's good for them!"

The NightClan cat scrambled away quickly before his body could be added atop Deerleap's, and once past the big log, Glacierpaw did not see them again. Breathing heavily, the tom swayed on his paws. Now that he'd stopped moving, the adrenaline rush was leaving him, and reality of all his fighting efforts was setting in. "What about the others? Should we rally?" he asked Pumafang hoarsely.

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ooc: @jet wasn't sure how you were on HR so i pumped this out quick in case you need more puma posts

[Deleted]

It was then that Pumafang knew Glacierpaw was ready for warriorhood, and perhaps even leadership.

The young, silvery tom had made a diplomatic decision, stolid and compassionate, like Lionstar himself would have. Part of him was jealous, and part of him was glad he wasn't hindered by emotion like the others. Glacierpaw's brooding finally payed out, and his authoritative form and voice paired with Pumafang's own injustices sent NightClan careening away from the duo like fleeing mice.

Deputy material. Pumafang's amber eyes blinked as he drunk in Glacierpaw's aura, but it was a fleeting thought.

His apprentice's questions yanked him back to the battle, though it seemed the attack was dying out, like a passing storm. Pumafang offered Glacierpaw a brisk nod, though felt it necessary to offer a rare show of praise.

If once could call it so.

"They saw life flash before their eyes, and you granted them a mercy beyond their worth." Pumafang growled, dipping his head and tapping Glacierpaw on the shoulder with his thick tail. "The makings of a stellar leader some would say, no doubt."

With that he bounded off, silent despite his stature and depth.

Don't get used to it. He willed to Glacierpaw, dull, amber eyes searching for that familiar, brown tabby pelt in the fray. Approval is for fathers, not figureheads.

KARAZHAL

[KARAZHAL]

From the time he'd joined Mistylight in the nursery, it'd been impressed upon him that he was to be a shield, to use his body as a mighty tree weathers the storms. With Pumafang's training, his edges were sharpened and he was ready to stand within the phalanx of TreeClan. He felt ready without having to ask anyone for permission or their opinion. However, Pumafang's acknowledgment bloomed warmth in his chest and strength in his limbs. More than anything, he sought to stay forever in his mentor's favor, who he had all reason to respect. He knew by now that Mistylight's demands had been the desires of an overprotective old queen. He was not impolite to her now--he could never be--but she didn't have a tenth of the respect he had for the powerful deputy standing before him. She had not raised either of her children well, blood and not; it was her fault Rosepaw and Cherrypaw were spoiled and reliant. Still, he would protect them and keep them safe; they were still his clanmates after all. Glacierpaw wanted to protect his Clan like a leader would.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the weird sensation rippling through his whole body at the sight of Pumafang bounding forward. Waves of pleasure buffeted him, and he felt strangely taboo eying Pumafang's physique so soon after taking in his mentor's praise. He had felt this kind of weird warmth looking at other toms too, but he was good at shoving it aside and focusing on something else. The brown-black tom disappeared out of sight ahead of him.

Dizziness unsettled him, and he exhaled shakily. He limped back into camp, identifying himself to the warriors blocking the way against any NightClanners. Where was Falconstorm? He could trust Pumafang to handle it; after all, he hadn't been given any further orders so now it was time to get to the medicine cat den while he was still conscious.

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ooc: end thread! glacier has some attraction realizations because puma's just... big d energy