It is rightfully ours!

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It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 8, 2021 0:34:22 GMT

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The thought of leafbare had crossed the black toms mind many times. The snow would famously change their territory. Water bodies would freeze giving them accessible area, but since their territory was mostly water a large source of food would vanish. Each morning patrols would go up slowly pushing their border outward it was the least Oakclan could do right? Without some of that strip for hunting mice Nightclan didn't have all that much.

He bunched up his muscles and leaped to the type of their skull mound. His tail lashed back and forth before letting out a yowl to call his clan forward. He needed to take that bridge back, they needed the land for food. Fireflies zipped around, and the light of the moon turned his black fur nearly blue. He stood proud in front of Nightclan Nightstar walked...so they could run.

"We will be sending a battle patrol to the bridge. Duskracer and I will be at the lead...I will be taking Redfang...Batstrike,Crowdance, Pouncefox and Puddlewish...everyone else is to remain here." His eyes crossed over to Tumblepaw for just a moment her unsaitable hunger and determination was honorable but the young apprentice just was not ready yet. He leapt from his perch before pushing his way through the camp entrance.

He raced off, muscles rippling underneath his pelt. Snarls ripping through the air. Reedpaw, Redmoss...neither of their deaths would be in vain and tonight he would make sure of it. Nightclan would take the strip of land...even if it cost him a life or two...

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storm

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 8, 2021 1:41:49 GMT

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Batstrike
Tom || 20 Moons || NightClan Warrior || Heterosexual

Beneath the hanging vines of the camp willows a dark feline lay hidden in camp idly. His white belly was pressed to the ground under him, paws tucked against his chest. Only the swaying of the leaves in the moonlight gave away his position as the shadows danced across his pelt. His golden gaze watched the movements within the camp quietly. Eveningstar had made a move to the prey bone pile and his body language told those watching an important announcement was going to be made.

Batstrike inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the surrounding swamp scent before shifting to his paws. He moved forward in response to the leaders call. The toms long tail swung behind him at the straight forward announcement. He found his gaze was holding on the new deputy when they were mentioned until his name being called brought his focus back to Eveningstar. The warrior gave a curt nod in acknowledgment of his task.

He rolled out with the battle patrol, head held high and a calm sense of confidence humming in his claws. His lean figure keeping pace behind the leaders charge easily. He galloped towards the border in silence, mentally preparing for what was to come. Batstrikes ears stood forward, alert, as his heart thudded with the snarls of his fellow warriors.

Storm (She/Her)
Tracker: Storm Chaser
Batstrike: Tom || 20 Moons || NightClan Warrior || Heterosexual

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mew

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 8, 2021 1:54:20 GMT

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|| redfang | 14 moons | nightclan ||

The dull heat of the humid night pulled idly at the tom’s longer pelt as Redfang attempted to relax over his dinner. The hiss of cicadas filled the evetime air and fireflies floated lazily as if swimming in the water-logged air. The ruddy tabby breathed a listless sigh at this lethargic, yet imposing atmosphere, though his sister Pinkfish tucked swiftly into their shared catfish as if she had enough time to eat it all from beneath his nose. Hearing her, Redfang scrunched up his nose and frowned, quickly nipping the paler tabby on one ear. ”Hey, cut it out. Leave enough for me-”

He had been cut off by Eveningstar’s stern voice belting out across the camp. Redfang raised his dark head to focus on their leader as the black tom spoke out from the mound of skulls, heeding his call of action to heart. It made enough sense, the tabby warrior supposed, that Eveningstar would want to retake the bridge they had lost a while back to OakClan. It was a good stretch of land for good eats, he could attest to that. His father had once boasted of a mouse caught on that strip that Redfang ate as an apprentice that nearly knocked his paws off. Regardless of quality though, NightClan just needed more food. They were getting bigger, what with all the apprentices crammed into the den just as he managed to leave it.

As Eveningstar named out who would join him on this excursion, Pinkfish roughly bumped his side and reclaimed his attention with a deep scowl. She had just about finished their meal when she flicked her tongue playfully at Redfang’s fuming disposition and cheekily chided, ”Easy brother, looks like you’ve got bigger fish yet to catch.” She had nodded off to their leader and the growing band of cats, prompting the ruddy tabby to his paws as Redfang groaned.

As he moved to approach the rest of his requested clanmates, his sister called loudly, ”I’ll finish this so it doesn’t go to waste. Make sure to eat with me at breakfast, ‘kay!” Dark amber eyes shot daggers at the cream tabby, and Redfang settled into a stance near the bones.

His jaw was set tensely and his brow furrowed a little as they raced through the territory. He was a bit nervous- this would be his first border press as a warrior. In the past, he was just supplementary help as an apprentice, but now… He had to stand up, look this in the face and just smash his head into it! He straightened up a little from his usual slouched posture with a bit more confidence on his face as he glanced from cat to cat to glean an idea of what they felt as they reached a stop for a moment.

Last Edit: Aug 17, 2021 16:42:05 GMT by mew

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Broadfae

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 9, 2021 3:37:28 GMT

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Tumblepaw thought she had placed an idea in Eveningstar's head - maybe that was a bit Hubris for the young she-cat, but she couldn't help herself; she had said that it wasn't fair that they didn't get to have both bridges. That theirs was stupid and broken, while Oakclan had taken away the only cool looking stretch along the water. She had said they needed to take it back - had been ready then and there on a training mission. But at the same time, she'd been told to wait.

So she had - waited and practice here and there, boxing against shadows - so that when the day came, she'd be ready - and it seemed like that day was today.

As far as she knew, no other important news was to be announced that day. So this had to be it - she ran and got a good seat, head back, looking up as Eveningstar made the announcement she thought he would - they were taking back their land -

and she wouldn't be with him.

That instant of anger - betrayal! - was sharp. Because...he had promised she would get to go too. To fight by their side! She had been practicing for nothing?! He lied?! Mentors...Leaders weren't supposed to lie! She waited for him to mention her name, but instead there was a look; just a moment's hesitation then crossing her over. No...the snub was pretty deliberate.

Had she done something wrong? Did she anger him? She was pretty angry herself that moment - he promised! You didn't break a promise! - but then a plan sort of hatched in the back of her head. Given time off, some of the cats her age were play fighting, or taking a name in the Greenleaf sun. She didn't though...she crept towards their dirt place, to the small hole in it's back...and out through the protective barriers of the camp, rolling in mud as she ran, splattering her mostly white coat with dirt and grime until she was more leafy, mucky matter than cat.

He didn't want her coming with the main party? Fine.

She would be their backup.

It might have been bad...she was disobeying their leader. It twisted around in her gut.

But then again...he'd broken his promise first.

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Broadfae

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 16, 2021 1:28:20 GMT

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With the ground growing drier as Greenleaf spread on, and the sun hotter, some of the areas where the ground should have been wet and full of life were crisping and brown. Hardly something to worry about too to much - but it made life for their Medicine Cat hard enough. Daisypetal was a tom who was devoted to his work, but the farther afield he had to go to find herbs, the more at risk it was that something would happen. And, as he had yet to find a suitable cat to train with him, Foxstar wasn't about to let him take any chances.

So she had gathered some of her warriors around that day, those without apprentices to worry about, and on their daily patrol made it their mission to go as far into the marshy lands on their side of the border to see if their luck could be improved. Not exactly a glamorous job, but that was why she had made it clear that she would be joining them; a leader should not be so above everything that they would not partake in the messy, less glamorous jobs. But what was more noble, in reality, then getting more medicine for their sick and injured clanmates.

She wasn't expecting trouble - no, mundanity was the name of their tasks for that day - although with the heat around the rest of the territory she did think she'd take advantage of the coolness of the earth beneath her paws in this part of the territory; even if it gave an uncomfortable squelch between the toes of her paws as she moved. A sigh escaped her lips even as the breeze whipped the heavy stench of their bordermates in their direction.

"Blackheart, if you would...watercress is supposed to be on top of the shallows; remembering correctly it's the roots we apparently want, so see if you could reach it from above with the bridge, and pull it out that way?" She swished her tail in the opposite direction. "Sorrelseed...anything that looks like ivy. Apparently what we've got didn't dry properly and is crumbling, but you're a climber - so perhaps something closer to the treeline?" There were a few other cats in their party whom she address in general.

"Otherwise, spread out? If you think you recognize something point it out before you pick it." No accidental poisonings on her watch. As she breathed in deeply, she swore that the scent of their neighboring Nightclan was just a little...richer than normal. But that was likely because they had recently remarked their borders or something completely innocent.

KingHarry (Blackheart) bugbito (Sorrelseed6) ravenmist4 (Cinderstorm?) __________ _________

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Tactical

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 16, 2021 17:46:58 GMT

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His muscles began to burn as they pounded the soft swamp like ground kicking up mud and gunk behind him. His black pelt was covered in a light sludge like substance, and his lip was curled into a snarl like position. He was determined that this bridge would be his. Too many lives were lost last time and although he wasn't ready to admit it, his apprentice was right. He could not let it be in vain. The warriors he chose running side by side against him proved that Nightclan was powerful and today they would win.

It didn't take long for the bridge to come into view, his arrogance pushed him forward, his paws touching the smooth stone. Soon this would belong to Nightclan he would make sure of it. With a slight smirk he flicked his tail signaling his warriors to stop. "We wait..." He murmured. A light breeze swayed through his fur, he closed his eyes tightly inhaling the aromas of Oakclan. Soon his emotionless façade turned to determination as the scents of a patrol drew closer.

"Foxstar how nice of you to join us this evening." He mewed. His large frame stepped out of the shadows tail lashing back and forth. He flicked his tail motioning for his warriors to stay close. His voice boomed through the air, loud and regal like as he continued to inch forward. If it was one thing Nightclan cats were proud of, was their sneaky tactics to win a fight. Since Starclan had been silent there was no code right?

"When Nighstar lead this bridge was ours, I am here to take back what is...well Rightfully ours. Your clan killed to many of ours last time we were here." When Nighstar lead there was nobility about her, and honor of course so she certainly wouldn't have come out here without a chat but that's where she and Eveningstar were different. He lost more that day than anyone else, and he would show that Oakclan would repay those debts.

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KingHarry

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 16, 2021 20:08:29 GMT

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Blackheart didn't mind going on patrol. He knew that some of his fellow clanmates weren't too fond of the duty but, at the end of the day, it was part of being a warrior and therefore he was never going to complain about it, not even if he was asked to be up a break of dawn!

Today, at least, the patrol was occurring at a reasonable time. Blackheart had been enjoying the pleasant breeze in the air as they made their way toward the bridge, eyes open and looking out for anything untoward while, at the same time, idly imaging himself finding lots of herbs for Daisypetals. That would be nice, he thought. It would certainly be useful for the clan!

Once they reached the bridge, the black tom mewed his confirmation that he had heard his leader's request before beginning to make his way over to the water to search for the requested herbs. He didn't get far before he ended up freezing on the spot, though - Eveningstar's voice rising out over the sound of the running river.

Immediately, Blackheart could feel his hackles rising. NightClan had no claim over the bridge! Perhaps it had been theirs in the past, but borders changed and it was OakClan's now! If he had to - and, of course, if Foxstar commanded it - he would fight for the bridge.

It should be his leader's place to speak, he knew that, but Blackheart couldn't help but shout back a response: "Nightstar may have believed herself to own this bridge, but if she had also believed that you should jump off a waterfall, would you blindly follow that foolish idea too?"

DawnClan: Mothmaw

OakClan: Blackheart, Moorwhisker

NightClan: Paletongue, Cricketpaw

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finny

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 18, 2021 16:36:04 GMT via mobile

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This was it, puddle wish had spent her entire life training to fight for her clan. She HAD fought for her clan before. But something about this fight felt different to her, it felt like she was finally stepping into her role as a warrior of nightclan.

When her leader called her name to fight she was excited, she wanted to prove to her clan her strength and ability to protect those she cared about. She tuned to glance at crowdance and nudged him "you should stay by me" she meowed, hoping he would take her need to protect the shorter, tired tom as a want to be near him, before turning and racing off, following her leader into battle, ready to lay down her life for crowdance, for nightclan

Last Edit: Aug 18, 2021 16:38:04 GMT by finny

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storm

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 18, 2021 17:26:44 GMT

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Batstrike
Tom || 20 Moons || NightClan Warrior || Heterosexual

His usually quick white paws were unrecognizable and heavy with thick mud. Most of Batstrikes short pelt was wet and coated with sludge from all of their splashing. The tom normally would have opted to avoid being so wet, but hadn't had the chance with this hastened group. He had fallen in step with Redfang for a few paces on the trek and noted that the tom seemed to swallow down some anxiety. Though he didn't mean it to, Batstrikes piercing yellow gaze probably fell hard on the younger warrior as he considered it may be his first border skirmish where he'd be expected to operate as a warrior on his own. He offered the cat a curt nod of encouragement, strange from one that kept largely to his own.

The lean feline took a quiet breath as Eveningstar slowed at their destination. For himself, he chose a tactical position on their side of the bridge, slinking deep into a grouping of reeds at the rivers edge. Pelt already soaked through, he didn't mind standing in the shallows with water lapping clean his muddy feet. He hunkered down low in an attempt to hide his dark fur from the enemy. Not of fear he'd be attacked there; someone would have to slosh through the river to flank him, but to conceal NightClans numbers from their eyes.

OakClans scent drifted near and he wondered if it was NightClan they actually smelled of just the stink of the swamp mud clinging to their warriors. Batstrikes yellow gaze held firmly on his dark leader edging forward proudly on the stone bridge. His lean muscle were tensed, awaiting the signal to strike. Mud-brained tom, Batstrike cursed in his mind as some OakClan cat spoke out of place. Still hidden, his black claws squeezed out into the water they hid in. He could feel the energy stir and tighten in the air as the situation became clear to the enemy patrol. It wouldn't be long now before it would begin, a snarl pulled handsomely at his scarred lip.

Storm (She/Her)
Tracker: Storm Chaser
Batstrike: Tom || 20 Moons || NightClan Warrior || Heterosexual

Apprentice

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smith

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 18, 2021 21:01:21 GMT

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CROWDANCE
he/him • nightclan warrior

a wide grin appeared on crowdance's face when he heard his name called for a battle patrol. he had been waiting quite a while to get his claws on oakclan again, and was excited to finally get another chance, plus, they were going to get the bridge back, which the warrior believed was rightfully nightclan's territory. it had belonged to nightstar, their founder, so belonged to them too, no matter how many times those oakclan kittypets tried to steal it. stretching briefly, the dark warrior began to walk over to the others who had been called to the patrol, nodding his head in respect, grateful he had been chosen to join them... well, they were the ones that should be grateful- it would be foolish for them to go without him.

crowdance raised a brow at puddlewish's voice next to him, "why? need me to protect you?" he teased, although didn't speak for long as he was eager to get to the bridge.

~~~

crowdance had remained almost completely silent as the group walked through the marshes, the thick, swampy water being used to somewhat disguise their scent. this was quite unusual for the often very lively and talkative tom, but this was serious business, a battle for territory, not some spar or challenge with a clanmate. deep in thought, the warrior was caught quite off-guard by their leader's murmur, yet followed the command and stopped to a halt. his amber eyes scoured the area for any oakclan cats or other threats, mouth open slightly as he scented the area. there was definitely someone there, maybe perhaps a few others... he nodded very slightly at eveningstar's decision to wait, quickly flickering his eyes to the side to see if puddlewish was besides him as she had requested.

the dark-furred warrior couldn't help but scoff when one of the oakclan cats began to speak, unsheathing his claws as he tried to hold himself back from attacking the other feline in that moment- how dare this lowlife insult his clan? taking a small step back and shaking his head, crowdance glanced back towards eveningstar, waiting for him to finally allow them to strike.

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Last Edit: Aug 18, 2021 21:01:59 GMT by smith

☽ 18 · she/her · uk ☾
☼☼☼
dawnclan; slug-.
oakclan; frog-.
nightclan; crowdance, ducktongue.
sig by scottie

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Broadfae

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 19, 2021 2:26:16 GMT

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The fading light through the trees always seemed to give her coat an odd sort of pattern; darken the red to the deeper hues that led to a more fiery outlook - flickering shadows adding to the effect. She could look threatening - not nearly as intimidating, nor massive, as their clan's founder had managed however. She was a cat of trim looks and sharp mind - calculations and quickness proving her strength for her clan long before she had received her deputyship.

Although, all that seemed to fade into the background as the chill voice of Eveningstar caught her attention. She had turned to give instruction to one of the smaller cat's when his voice, his smell, caught her ears - she turned, and for a moment her worry crossed her expression; just a fleeting run of concern. Had she rested too long on her own laurels, the thoughts of peace, and now left her clan open to an attack?

No...this couldn't have been planned - not by her. She wasn't the scheming type - strategic, yes; but not manipulative and secretive. She wore her strategy and ideas like badgers of honor; seeking out the interpretations and skills of every cat, to be open. It was what she had been taught, nurtured by her clan to be. When they saw land they needed, they would fight for it; and win, because right was clearly on their side. Their ancestors, those who looked out for them; they knew what it meant, what they needed. If they were not meant to have possessed the bridge then they would have lost. And yet Eveningstar clearly seemed to think that his roll and name change now meant he knew more than the omniscient beings who oversaw their world.

"Nightstar is no longer among the clans, Eveningstar. She has long since moved on, and while it's...understandable you would want to honor her in some way I think the clan that shares her name is enough, don't you?" She kept her voice even, her tail high, but there was a intention in her body that wasn't quite casual. Her clanmates would pick up on the...discomfort; Blackheart already had, and she nodded imperceptivity towards the tom, for his support. "We won the bridge outright - and I have no desire to let it fall back into your paws. Surely your territory is more than enough for Nightclan? And you're was hardly the only blood shed that day." There was an irritated flick there, the tiniest flick of her ear, an edge to her voice. "Surprising, considering your clan is supposed to be far more successful in the muddy, underhanded tactics, no? So even with a slight...let's call it an advantage. Clearly the bridge was meant to be ours."

----

"Mousedung!" Tumblepaw remembered herself enough to keep her voice down and quiet as she snuck along, but the ground here was particularly marshy - lots of greenery, lots of...muck. Her paws kept slipping into the ground to the point that now she was decidedly more of a brown than white cat. Subtly and strength had been bred into her by her clan genetics - but creeping was still something she needed to be taught to a satisfactory degree unless she wanted to be known as a walking mudpuddle for the rest of her life.

Part of the reason was her rush to keep up with the older battle party. They were adults, so they had longer legs; she had to keep low and out of sight, and yet somehow keep up. Her nose followed their scents easily enough - and also picked up on the more intense smell of Oakclan; the unfamiliar blends and strength tickling her nose and making it hard not to sneeze.

She circled around to the side, tacking shelter underneath a thorn bush as she waited; for the proper time to attack, she knew. Her tail waggling excitedly from side to side as she watched.

This was...this was great. Their clan was getting the bridge back - and once the fighting started she was going to show Eveningstar that he was mistaken in leaving her back at home - she could totally handle herself.

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mew

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 19, 2021 7:38:37 GMT

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REDFANG
he/him • nightclan warrior

Tensions were rising high as Redfang felt himself bristle up subconsciously, ears perked as he listened to the sharp exchange of words between the opposing leaders before them. Batstrike had done what he could in the moment to try and uplift the younger warrior a bit, but it did little more than remind Redfang he had clanmates in arms. They had each other. But a patrol flanking Foxstar made the she-cat appear more powerful than any cat Redfang could recall seeing in his recent memory, but Eveningstar had his own power lying in wait. The ruddy tabby felt the clammy chill seep into his bones from where he hid in the water with a few of his clanmates. History was written in blood, and would be here if his leader had his way. The ash tabby warrior tipped his head in a slouch, a snarl carved into his lips and his brows knitted into a deep scowl.

His claws itched as a warrior from the other side cried out challengingly, though appearing to have been shot down by Eveningstar. Redfang scoffed under his breath, muttering a curse at the idiot who thought it was a wise idea to chirp up, but then again Redfang could also appreciate the audacity in the action. Who’s to say I wouldn’t do the same if I were his size. Lowering into his crouch, he let his claws slide out into the riverbed and narrowed his blazing amber gaze.

~~~

THISTLEMINT
he/him • oakclan warrior

A hiss escaped from the OakClan cats as a lithe black and white tom shot daggers at Eveningstar from across the bridge. THistlemint's mint green eyes were ice cold and disapproving, only glinting on the occasion when Foxstar moved to speak. No one else was worth his attention. No one except this trespasser and his leader.

His spindly form stood rigid and perched aggressively as if the peacocking helped any in the intimidation department. A warrior is only as big as he believes himself to be, right? The spunky tom let his hissing roll into a low snarl, his dark lip curled and long tail lashing wildly. Thistlemint clawed the ground as he stood impatiently behind Blackheart, hoping that the bee-brained NightClan leader would either turn tail or get his tail shredded before he lost interest. However, a full-on battle was more interesting than anything else happening in his his clan, so he supposed he could relent and humor the ordeal with a bit more of his patience. But like a lit firecracker, he was bound and determined to pop off.

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format borrowed from smith

Last Edit: Aug 24, 2021 17:09:08 GMT by mew

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Tactical

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 19, 2021 19:11:39 GMT

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The black tom whipped his head as Blackheart spoke out. His eyes turned to narrowed slits and a low growl formed in the back of his throat. The intensity of the situation at hand would be enough to send chills down any warriors spine. Eveningstars gaze reflected bloodlust and strength it was incredibly clear what his intentions were this day. He sheathed and unsheathed his claws dragging them across the stone creating a sharp noise. unbeknownst to him it created an eery shreik that added to the tension between the two clans. It was clear that blood would be shed this day.

"You won because you fought with no Honor." He mewed firmly. His face was proof of that action. A large part of him was heavily scarred. Redmoss was murdered, and even his own apprentice was pushed off the bridge. Those were just the serious casualties. That did not include the countless number of herbs that Spottedmoth and Paletongue had to use to treat the wounds of those who survived.

There was a moment of pure silence, as no more words were exchanged. Only a light breeze that caused a whistling sound through the reeds echoed in the area. "So no, a clan in Nightstars honor is not enough and will NEVER be enough for what Oakstar did that day." He finally mewed. He turned his head just briefly looking towards the swamps, their noses were trained to pick out others in the stench, whereas Oakclan mostly struggled to pick out exactly how many cats were behind him.

"If you think I have just a mere border patrol party behind me you are sadly mistaken." Oh no he came prepared. His numbers were hidden whereas Foxstars were quite visible. With a light flick of his tail, Nightclan's newest leader let out a blood curtling battle cry before launching himself towards Oakclans leader. An eye for an eye...were his intentions today.

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Broadfae

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 20, 2021 1:45:25 GMT

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"How dare you!" Foxstar's voice dropped into a throaty hiss, as she narrowed her eyes at the interloping tomcat. She had always taken Evening to be a pigheaded tom - long before he'd been made a Deputy in Redmoss's stead after this very battle. He'd been proud of the darkness embraced by his hand, as if his own coloring reflected what was right about their skulking habits. So much better, so much more entitled to it all. One might have hoped that responsibility would have tempered him; if not the fact that running headlong into battle had nearly cost him his vision and much of his handsome looks.

But hope did not catch prey - and it did little to settle the anger that she could see blossoming there; echoed by her own, spurred on by indignation. She had a moment where it seemed the last chance for the tom to back down; where she set herself as not ready to back away, tail lashing behind her. But rather than flee, he of course dove - echoing yowl a message to not just a regular patrol of nearby cats, but a full-fledged battalion.

To avoid his dive, she dropped; rather than facing the bigger cat head on, using an old apprentice's trick of a dead fall; belly flat to the ground so that they'd dive over her; lashing out with her front paws at the legs that she saw, claws aiming to dig deep into muscle and fur. "Oakclan - stand your ground!" She rallied to her patrol - who'd had no need to sulk around. Thistlemint and Blackheart already had be back - Surely so did Sedgestream. It would be then need of their peaceful gathering patrol to hold back this wave until a break could be made; exact numbers sussed out - but once that was known reinforcements could be summoned.

No matter what Eveningstar and his clan thought, this land had been won by them fairly and nobly. He spoke ill of her mentor, brought dishonor to those who had died for a bit of land when they had an entire swamp to their liking. It was as foolish as if her clanmates would fight for a single tree in the forest - but apparently his senses had fled him. Red hot pain in her shoulder as his claws snagged her fur and skin - to which she retaliated by throwing herself upwards; her sides heaving from below in order to upset Nightclan's foolish leader. Wiles and right was on her side, might on his - an even match - but for how long?

---

Tumblepaw's heart raced as she watched from the sidelines, pulse racing in her ears as she waited for a moment - the moment. That moment where she could rush in and be of use. Some of the other cats - the rest of the battle party was there; but Eveningstar was fighting with the ruddy orange she-cat she recognized from her first gathering. Foxstar - leader on leader, and even though she was a brave and tenacious young thing, even she knew that wasn't something she was about to bring herself between.

Instead, she kept to a crouch, sneaking from her hiding spot with her muddy coat spiked in irritation - more irritated hedgehog than cat, by her looks; ears flat against her head and mis-matched eyes blazing. She would take up arms with her clanmates - prove her worth exactly, that she should have been there at the very start; take up the smaller tactics she'd learned through play on bigger, more dangerous opponents.

Just like hunting a frog, she thought - as she approached a bigger cat, momentarily distracted by the onslaught of the other Nightclan warriors, and propelled herself forward with her hind paws, putting her weight into her front legs with all the force she could muster to try and take her prey down.

Last Edit: Aug 20, 2021 1:46:50 GMT by Broadfae

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KingHarry

It is rightfully ours! Posted Aug 30, 2021 16:47:13 GMT

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Blackheart was never a fan of fighting. It was one of those things that he knew he had to do and, in fact, it was something that he was rather good at, but he did believe that there were often better ways to deal with disagreements. Here, though, that clearly wasn't the case. Eveningstar, in his typical NightClan was, was being stubborn about his foolish idea that a previous claim on some territory meant that he owned it forever. This was not the case. Boundaries shifted and, as OakClan had won the bridge fairly, that meant that the crossing over the river was clearly theirs for the time being.

Of course, that could change here. Blackheart didn't think that it would, though. Anger was not a wise thing to enter a fight with. It clouded the mind and negatively affected judgment, giving OakClan - in his opinion, at least - the advantage in this particular border battle.

Foxstar called for her clan to stand their ground and Blackheart instantly began looking between the NightClan cats to determine how best to defend his fellow warriors. He was so busy looking at them that he didn't notice an apprentice sneak up on him and crash into his side. This momentarily cause the warrior to stumble, opening him up for a more serious blow for a moment, before he managed to regain his senses and look at his attacker.

This apprentice couldn't have been more than seven or eight moons old - too young to be involved in a serious fight, in his opinion. "You shouldn't be here," he couldn't help but comment. "You could get hurt." But, despite his words, once his sentence was finished, he lunged out with his own attack, claws out and aiming for the apprentice's side.

If NightClan was going to bring children to a fight, then it was NightClan's fault alone when they returned home bloody and bleeding.

Broadfae

DawnClan: Mothmaw

OakClan: Blackheart, Moorwhisker

NightClan: Paletongue, Cricketpaw

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