We Cannot Forgive [ASSIGNMENT/CLOSED]

[FENRIS]

Lionstar

One week. Seven days since they had been cruelly ripped away and sent to StarClan. Lionstar lay along in his den, his eyes unfocused and unblinking. He hadn't left his nest since that night and it was starting to show. His once brilliant golden pelt was dull and matted, Tigerfang and Ashrain's blood still caked onto his paws. His stomach was aching for a meal but his mind didn't allow him an appetite. Instead, whatever was brought into his den by others had turned into a rotting mess for the maggots. His nest was rancid and his body unclean, the tom appeared as nothing more than a breathing corpse. The fur under his eyes and on his cheeks were stained an almost reddish-brown from his tears, even though he wasn't able to cry for the past three days. The old cat had lost all will to keep going, all reason to continue breathing while his brother and Deputy could not. He was broken, nothing more than a shell of the former cat he was.

Even the sudden outbreak outside didn't shift the tabby's attention. The fighting outside sounded so far away, like he was in a dream and just imagining it. The cries of fellow Clanmates were so empty, so hollow, the snarls and howls distant, unconvincing. Lionstar continued laying on his side, his dull eyes fixed on the rock wall, seemingly unaware of the world around him. He thought he heard his name being called outside, yet again it could have just been the breeze. The smell of blood and fear wafted in slowly and danced around the cats nose though he instantly assumed it coming from him. There wasn't anything going on outside, he was just losing his mind. If he dared walk out at that very moment he'd see nothing but cats lounging around and entering or leaving camp. He had no reason to move, his thoughts were simply playing tricks on him and making him hallucinate. No one could even get into their camp without braving the now-frigid waters. Even he had a hard time getting into camp and he had lived there for sixty long moons. That was evidence enough that he was just going crazy.

The sound of paws on the hard rock caught Lionstar's attention, but for only a moment. Putting them off as nothing more than another cat trying to feed him, the old cat kept his position on the floor and remained unaware. Though it wasn't until the sudden shaking and his name being called out that he snapped out of his daze and slowly turned his head to see a gray figure with panicked eyes. The Leader's honey pools drifted in and out of focus which, for but a moment, made him think the other cat was Ashrain. But that was impossible, so he lowered his head once more and ignored the visitor. "Lionstar, get up! Don't you see what's going on around you?" Tears began to form in the tom's weary eyes. No, Ashrain was dead. He couldn't be speakiing to him right now. No, this wasn't fair. He was just about to try and push it away when another voice arose, causing him to begin to hyperventilate. "You are neglecting your duties brother, if you aren't going to help your Clan out in their time of need maybe you should just die." T-...Tigerfang?

Lionstar clawed at the ground to pull himself onto his belly so he could see, though when he turned no one was there. His gasping breath slowed once more but his eyes kept scanning his empty den. They sounded so... real. "You've become one big disgrace boy, I didn't bring you up like this. Get a grip of yourself and help your Clan!" A raspy snarl filled his ears, causing the dam to break once more and tears to roll down his furry cheeks. Snowclaw, his own father. He was even letting him down. When he finally came into focus, three cats stood in front of him with varied emotions.

The first cat, Ashrain, looked upon Lionstar with pity and concern. His sapphire pools looked like they were seeing the death of an old friend, and without a moment's thought the tabby realized that that was exactly what he was looking at. Lionstar was no longer living, he was a dead husk of the once proud Leader. "This isn't the cat that ruled our Clan. This is his soulless body." He simply stated, his last word clinging to the air as his body slowly vanished.

The next cat was an ivory wall of fur. Lionstar easily recognized his own father, who was a massive tom with an unforgiving expression. His forest gaze burned into the golden cat's pelt and seared his flesh with such intensity. "You should be ashamed of yourself." Snowclaw hissed, his teeth bared and his ears flat. "Get up. I'll be damned if another son of mine dies a pointless death. Tigerfang is gone, Ashrain is gone, so what. You did the same thing when Mistwhisker and I died, you should be damn used to it by now! Stop being such a child and be the man I wanted you to be!" With that the tom lowered to the ground, a low growl escaping his throat. Even now he was still a giant of a cat, Lionstar felt intimidation course through his veins. But he obeyed. It was hard and he fell a few times from not using his legs, but he eventually got to his paws and copied his father's stance. The white titan leapt, an ear-piercing screech filling the den before disappearing into thin air, like he wasn't there in the first place.

Finally, it was only Lionstar and Tigerfang. His uneven breath was all that was heard in the den, his brother's disappointed stare piercing his very soul. When it became too much to handle the younger of the two broke the connection and sat down, his eyes glued to the floor. "I'm trying to avenge you brother, I really am. But I just have no energy to do so. I want to help my Clan but there is just to will to do so. I am a broken down old man Tigerfang, but I don't want to give up just yet. I want to be the cat you trained me to be and make you proud once more. I want to make father happy. I don't want to put this Clan to shame." He whimpered, his voice echoing in the rocky room. Tigerfang sighed and nodded gently, his expression shifting slightly. "And that's all I ever wanted from you brother. I am not like father, I know you are trying to do what's best given your situation. But like I said, if you aren't going to help your Clan you might as well just die." And with that, he too left, his scent washing over Lionstar.

The tabby remained still for a moment more before once again getting to his paws and giving his pelt a shake. He didn't want to die, not yet. He had a Clan to help, a group to lead, people to protect. His first steps were wobbly and uncoordinated but soon enough he was charging out of his den and into the heat of battle. Pure adrenaline rushed through him as he leapt onto one of the Rogues and gave him a deep bite on the shoulder. She shrieked in pain and dropped down, blood oozing from her bite. She clawed at the tom viciously, her moves unpredictable. She connected a few times but the Leader felt nothing and sank his jaws into her once more. When she couldn't take anymore she crawled away, limping from her wounds. Within seconds Lionstar was attacking another cat, delivering blow after blow and sending him fleeing as well. After only moments the cats were gone, clambering out of the hole on top or sliding into the water below. Some cats stared at the golden tom, almost in awe of his return. The beginnings of a celebratory cry filled the air before a panicked cry cut them off. "The kits are gone!!" A Queen desperately cried out. Lionstar quickly scanned the group gathered in the center of camp to pick out a few able-bodied which proved harder than he thought. Finally, two stood out but that was all he needed. "Bramblethorn, Pebblewing, let's go." He ordered as he raced towards the exit.

As soon as Lionstar reached the outside, the smell of the Rogues was already faint. He pushed on nonetheless and followed the trail through the sandy terrain. He felt his muscles strain from the disuse but kept his pace with relative ease, there were lives on the line and his failing body wasn't going to stop him from doing everything in his power to save them. The air felt nice on his dank pelt, easing his tense body slightly. How long had it been since he laid his eyes on the outside? His eyes hurt from how bright the world was, not used to anything but the dark walls that surrounded him for days. Was this how a ShadowClanner felt? Those grotesque beings made their living in holes, it was a surprise they didn't go blind whenever they left their camp with how Lionstar felt now. But thinking about the ground-dwelling monsters didn't help the situation, he had to stay focused on the task ahead. He needed to make Tigerfang, Ashrain and Snowclaw believe in him again.

As the scent slowly faded in existence, the tabby tom found himself crossing into another territory. Soft grass brushed against his matted pelt and tickled his pawpads, strange birds cried out and flew around the dense foliage, and the ever-present reek of ThunderClan drowned out any good smells of the jungle. He didn't want to be here, but those kits mattered more than his desire to leave. Soon the Leader slowed his steps and turned to Pebblewing and Bramblethorn. "Keep an eye out for ThunderClanners, they could be anywhere in his god forsaken jungle." He hissed, his voice low so he wouldn't attract attention. A snap and rustle however, made the cat jump and quickly turn his head. His ears perked towards a nearby tree, a single falling leaf catching his attention. Just a bird, he thought as he moved on carefully. Though it wasn't long before he heard another noise, this time a voice growling at him. Sudden anger welled up as he recognized the voice, he really didn't have time to deal with him now.

"Come on out of hiding, you filthy murderer. I don't have time for your games." He snarled.

[Mama Oak]

Elmstar had not been feeling well. It was not yet leaf-bare and the tabby tom had been to Grayleaf's den twice already. The herbs and concoctions she had given him were enough to keep the leader on his paws and made his duties bearable, but there simply was no cure for the imminent deterioration of age. The only thing Elmstar could think to do was to stay on his paws — he would not succumb to his final death, weak and frail on the floor of his den. No. He had already surrendered five of his lives to sickness, breathing painfully in his nest — that alone was proof that 'rest' did little to help. So here he was, on his second patrol of the day, determined to work off the fever from his body, rather than let it fester in his inactivity. A bird shot suddenly upward, directly in-front of the tabby tom, nearly catching him by surprise. Gaze following the creature's panicked flight for a long moment, he abruptly caught the scent of RiverClan and blood. Signaling to the rest of his patrol, Elmstar dropped his gaze toward the forest floor. Peering through the thin, lower branches, his calculating eyes found and studied the three trespassers, watching as they slowly crept through the foliage. A prickling of heat flushed through his slender body, though from anger or fever, Elmstar could not be certain. The silent snarl that pulled at the the leader's lip suggested the former, while the sticky, uncomfortable sweat from his paw-pads and the trembling chills that snaked through his bones justified the latter. Turning his head to glance at his deputy, he held Flowerfur's fallow gaze for a brief moment, before he nodded and shifted his dull green eyes to Lizardpaw. Any other time he would have been unable to ignore how similar she looked to his exiled son, but now the ThunderClan leader only saw a young apprentice he was expecting to represent the strength and face of their clan. When he felt he made this clear, with only the silent searching of his steady gaze, he turned wordlessly away and began picking his way toward the RiverClanners. Paws pressing against branches and leaping from trunks in a nimble, quick descent, made silent and flawless through his countless moons. Even with the shuddering illness in his body, the tom's movements were graceful and perfect. However, as the ground rushed up to meet him, Elmstar had to close his eyes to blink back the sudden, terrible vision of Redstar's broken and bleeding body upon the forest floor. A wave of nausea washed over him, and a gasp bubbled at his lips, but Elmstar managed to bite it back — only by fastening his teeth upon his cheek. The medicinal taste of blood filled his mouth, making the long-standing headache behind his eyes flare viciously, but the ThunderClan leader made no noise. Now was not the time. When he felt steadied enough to open his eyes, a warning growl sneaked from his chest and he dropped to the floor before the RiverClanners, trying to ignore the resulting vertigo. "Lionstar," Disregarding the blatant insult and accusation, Elmstar dipped his head in mandatory greeting, knowing perfectly well the respectful courtesy would not be returned. "Fish are a bit misplaced in the forest, do you not agree?" the inquiry was terse and accompanied by a cold, emotionless smile, tinted pink by the red spittle of his bleeding cheek. Elmstar was not so foolish as to be outright and overtly hostile. By the looks and manner of the RiverClan cats, he thought they might actually have a reason for being in their territory; to be certain, they were too loud and without proper precaution to be spies or hunters. But neither would Elmstar be kind or warm, a fact made perfectly clear by is unwelcoming tone. Though he did not wish for his clan to be known to attack on sight, without offering first a chance for reasonable illumination, Elmstar wished even less for ThunderClan to have a reputation of being lenient with its borders. Trespassing could not be forgiven or waved away with the flick of a paw. It was an offense, a violation, and a test of a clan's strength — a trial in which the tabby leader was not reluctant to affront. "Unlike blundering kits, I would like to trust that three full-grown felines know the meaning of a border?" The leader's guarded, champagne eyes shifted between the three RiverClanners, settling upon them and studying each individual long enough to inspire discomfort, before moving to the next. Finally, resting upon Lionstar, the frigid grin fell at the corners and his next words  somehow managed to sound even more terse. "So enlighten me — what game are we playing? Because I dare think one or two rules have been broken." The RiverClan leader looked awful; a simple shamble of a tom. His fur was marked with fresh blood and gore, but beneath that Elmstar did not fail to note the older ruin of week-long neglect; Lionstar's dirty, unkempt fur and the starved look of his usually lean and muscular frame. Yet, at the same time, the pale tabby held an air of strong, fresh energy. His appearance suggested he was only one more missed meal from an empty death, and yet his eyes blazed with the anger and fire of a young, RiverClan tom Elmstar could remember from seasons before. A moment later, and he understood. The ThunderClan leader flicked an ear. Having lost eight before, he knew what a cat looked like, what a cat felt like, when new, unpolluted life coursed through their reanimated veins. The raw power and strength that came with each refreshed breath. Had Lionstar lost a life in the recent battle, made evident in the splatters of wet crimson upon his golden pelt? Or was it grief — equally evident upon the tom's newly-resuscitated body — that killed him? How many did that leave him? Six? Four? How many more chances, did the piece of filth possess? Words: 1,015 Tagged: ThunderClan/RiverClan patrol Status: Private/Closed Muse: Eh, it definitely could be better. I'm fried. Notes: Sorry, this is so tardy! It's been a rough week (thank goodness for the weekend!).

[Petrichor]

It had been a long week for Flowerfur. Ever since the Gathering, things had been tense with RiverClan, and of course it was now that Elmstar would grow ill. And of course, Flowerfur had to deal with the knowledge that she had finally uncovered her leader's secret. His dark, tragic secret. She couldn't let go of her respect for her leader, though. Instead of lying down and dying in the medicine cat's den, he chose to continue moving for however long he had left. It probably wasn't the healthiest thing to do, but Flowerfur had seen her leader die enough times that she could appreciate him not wanting to go out without a fight. At the same time, Flowerfur was left with the duties of taking care of ThunderClan. Most of the time it was easy, sending patrols and hunting teams out, but some ThunderClan cats bayed for RiverClan's blood in retaliation to a war that hadn't even started yet. It made Flowerfur sick. The last of the leaves were falling from the trees, and so it was relatively easy for Flowerfur to spot Elmstar as she went out on a walk; As things grew more chaotic in the Clan, she found herself occasionally needing to get out into the forest and listen to the natural silence. The ThunderClan deputy would have simply turned her gaze away from her leader if Elmstar hadn't suddenly turned his attention to something, and Flowerfur ducked down in a crouch as she attempted to ascertain what it was he had heard. Suddenly, she caught the sight of a RiverClan patrol -- Lionstar at the helm, no less -- running into the forest. She watched Elmstar drop down to greet the RiverClan leader, and she couldn't let that happen. She knew that the two leaders would butt heads and only make things worse. The brown tabby leapt down from her spot far above the ground onto a lower branch and then another before finding her way to the ground, where she stepped to Elmstar's right side, if not as close to the patrol as he was. She hadn't heard the whole thing but Elmstar's last remark about a game. Flowerfur looked aside at Elmstar, trying to convey the notion that she wasn't there to harm the situation, and that she'd be by his side no matter what. It was a complicated message, but one she was sure Elmstar could pick up. A look at Lionstar spoke far louder than words ever could. Blood matted his fur, tears darkened his pelt, and he looked out of his mind. Well, more out of his mind than he usually was, but she'd never let that notion outside of her mind. "Lionstar," Flowerfur spoke, trying to keep her voice neutral and professional, but kept a friendly tone to it. That was all that needed to be said. There was no need to be rash; after all, Lionstar might have a perfect reason to be in the forest... covered in blood... with such an angry look on his face. This was going to be bad.

[Sprout]

P E B B L E W I N G
i'm gunna break your little heart


It was almost as if the rogues had known exactly what was going on in the camp. As if they knew that the RiverClan leader was in a state of neglect and despair, that the clan was almost in anarchy, that they were held together with threads as fine as spiders silk. Even Pebblewing, who usually cared for little more than flirting and showing off, seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. For once, he actually began to throw all of his effort into hunting and patrolling, hoping for things to go back to the way they were. He hated hard work.


The attack was unexpected and ill-timed, right when the clan was at it's most vulnerable. As the unfamiliar cats poured into camp, Pebblewing's eyes widened with surprise. For a moment, he froze, half-crouched, fur fluffed to twice it's usual volume. Then, a wild snarl ripped at his handsome features, and he threw himself into the fray. Each swipe and bite of his claws and teeth marked another injury to the intruders, and blood splattered his pelt. Few cats managed to land a blow on him, and those that did hardly scratched him at all, deflecting off his tough scales. He did have one cut, right above his eye, that blood was seeping out of and into his green and gold orb, obscuring his vision. 


Suddenly, all of the rogues turned tail and fled, leaving only bloodstains and pawfuls of mangy fur behind. A yowl of victory arose from his throat, and his eyes flashed with triumph. He turned to take note of the casualties when he noticed Lionstar. Actually out of his den. The tom felt a flicker of hope and awe. It was plain to see that he was half-starved and half-dead, but he could recover. He would recover.


Victory was half-lived. As soon as the queens cry broke out, a storm of anger bubbled up inside Pebblewing. How dare they?! Pebblewing may not have a particular fondness of kits, but he did love his clan, and stealing the kits of the clan was a direct insult. His fur prickled along his spine. He opened his mouth to say something when he heard his leader call out. Ears pricked, he trotted over to Lionstar, glancing at the other cat called. Bramblethorn. An attractive enough she-cat, no-nonsense. Pebblewing couldn't say he knew her well. A flush of irritation at himself rippled through him. No time to think about that kind of folly, it was time to go hunting.


Walking through ThunderClan territory, Pebblewing felt a shiver of discomfort. He felt to penned in, so trapped. He longed for the cool touch of water, but he knew that was far away now. He heeded his leader's advice, keeping his eyes out for ThunderClanners, but they bumped into a patrol anyway. Not only a patrol, but the leader and deputy of ThunderClan. Lionstar's furious exclaim echoed through Pebblewing's ears, followed by the cold, curt greeting of Elmstar. As the ThunderClan leader's yellow eyes passed him over, he felt a shiver of discomfort, even though he was used to stares. Pebblewing narrowed his eyes, although dared not to instigate any violence. Yet. The RiverClan party seemed so pitiful, with the frail shell of a leader, and two warriors like fish out of water. If Elmstar decided to attack them, they would be in trouble, however hard it was for Pebblewing to admit it. 


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Word count: 573
Notes: sorry for such a bad post.

[Deleted]

Bramblethorn 
They Will Pay! 

It had started out like any other day for the young Riverclan she-cat, despite the fact that since the Gathering her old mentor and the Leader of her Clan had yet to come out of his den. Bramblethorn had been doing all that she could to make sure that the Clan was still being feed and protected. Doing double hunting trips and patrols. She had even taken to sleeping back at camp instead of out in her Clan's territory like she had since the death of her father, but now on her way back to camp with a mouth full of fish for the Queens and Kits a bad feeling started to creep across her body. She was filled with unknown sense of urgency. Bramblethorn quickly grabbed her fish and bolted back to camp, her legs pushing her faster and faster. It wasnt long before she burst through the entrance to the camp. Her eyes darted all around the camp looking for any signs of distress in any cat but she could see none. Calming herself a bit she let her eyes wander to her Leaders Den while she made her way to the Nursery with the fish. 
Lionstar I wish you would come out, I know it is hard to live without someone you love but you need to be strong for the Clan. We need you she thought.  While in the Nursery Bramblethorn heard unfamiliar yowls. Quickly she darted from the Den and once outside of it the sight before her filled her with rage and fury. Rogues had some how made it into their camp, their home. Letting out and angry snarl Bramblethorn threw herself into the fray. 

Her claws where tearing through flesh and fur. Blood dripping down her own coat, most of it not hers. The filthy taste of the Rogues blood and fur filled her mouth. She was trained to do this and sometimes it was her favorite thing to do. She fought hard, avoiding serious blows and dealing even worse ones. It wasnt until a fairly large tom came up to her. A cocky smirk on his maw, oh how bad she wanted to wipe it off his face. She was the first to strike, her smaller frame allowed for quicker speed. Lionstar where are you, you old fool she thought. But that thought allowed the tom a hard blow to her back leg, his massive claws cutting deep into her flesh. Luckily her scales took the brunt of the blow and it wasnt as deep or life threatening. But after that blow the tom looked behind her and turned tail and ran. Confused Bramblethorn turned behind her to see the one and only Lionstar standing, well standing as well as he could, in camp. Her hope now replenished Bramblethron went to talk to her Leader but a voice stopped her. One of the Queens was screaming that the kits where gone. Uncontrollable rage filled her, those filthy, rotten scum would pay! Her eyes looked to Lionstar, waiting for his orders. A smile appeared on her face when he called for her. The white and tabby she-cat quickly wove her way to her Leader's side along with one of the few handsome toms in the clan , Pebblewing. Sure he was cute but she knew of his reputation and didnt plan on being one of his many she-cats.

The trio took off out of camp, following the ever fading scent of the rouges. Her fury only grew when she thought about the poor kits that those filthy outsiders had taken. She hoped and prayed to Starclan that those kits would be alright until they got to them. Running alongside her old mentor and Leader, Bramblethorn worried that the elder cat wouldnt make it in a fight. She shook her head at the thought...of course he would. The small patrol followed the scent into Thunderclan territory. Bramblethorns fur stood on end at the scent, she wasnt the clans biggest fan at the moment and hoped they wouldnt run into any trouble.  But she "spoke" to soon. The familiar voice of Elmstar and his deputy reached the she-cats ears. Natrually Bramblethorn moved slighty closer to Lionstar, wanting to protect her leader in his state. She listened to the two talk, Elmstar's comment of fish out of water nearly caused her to growl out loud, her claws flexed tearing at the hardened dirt of the rival cats territory. Bramblethorn chanced a look at her leader. Lionstar, we need to settle this quickly we are running out of time she whispered. Hoping he could hear her, it wasnt that she was trying to boss him around. No. Her only worry was that the scent of the rouges would be covered by the disgusting Thunderclan scent and they would lose the little ones. She hoped that the two older cats would be able to keep the argument and hate to a minimum so that the kits could be found, then again she also slightly hoped that she would be able to kick a little bit of Thunderclan butt, but that could always be done at antoher time. Right now she just hoped that the kits were alright.

 

---

    Sorry if it sucks. Kind of started typing and just kept going

[Deleted]

To say things were tense would be an understatement. Ever since the Gathering - which she wasn't allowed to go to but was informed of the details - things had gotten a lot more serious around camp. Cats bristled at the smallest sounds on patrols, twisted their faces in disgust at the very mention of RiverClan. It was a hard situation to come into her from the nursery and she felt her stomach twisting in knots to the point she hardly ate. The sight of her deteriorating grandfather didn't help much with her appetite either.

Walking alongside him silently, she tried not to let her eyes linger on the fraile, sick frame of the once great cat. Lizardpaw had to admire Elmstar's determination and spirit, but she found herself fretting over him inwardly. Despite the distance she felt between them both they were still family. She couldn't help but care about him. Not that he gave a mouse's whisker what she thought about him.

Flowerfur was with them on the sunhigh patrol, though she was somewhere above them now. Lizardpaw wasn't sure whether to be honored or concerned. Elmstar was clearly ill right now and the toll of duties and the heavy weight of hostility being generated between ThunderClan and RiverClan was taking it's toll on the deputy. Everyone seemed tired nowadays. She wished she was a warrior already so she could help ease the load.
Lizardpaw jumped at the sudden flurry of feathers that came in front of her and Elmstar, digging her claws in the branch to keep herself on it and pulling her ears back in embarrassment. She hoped nobody noticed that...

Then came something more alarming from the air the bird had brought up. RiverClan. And blood. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, golden eyes looking up to Elmstar and then following his gaze to the forest floor below. There they were, three trespassers. Instead of hot anger and eagerness, Lizardpaw was swept with confusion. What were RiverClan doing here? Surely they knew better than to come onto ThunderClan land and risk getting electrocuted.

Her eyes looked up to meet her grandfather's, a pang running through her as she noticed just how old and sick he looked deep within his eyes. He tried to be this strong leader, but his age and sickness were showing through in his trembling body and shaky legs. The last thing he needed to do is get involved in a border skirmish and end up wounded. She saw the message in his eyes, a look not of warmth but of expectation. She turned away and nodded, staring down at her paws to hide her ill-feelings before looking at the RiverClan cats.

Still racking her brain for a believable explanation of why they were here, Lizardpaw followed after Elmstar a little less gracefully to the solid ground. She didn't expect anything less when the aged leader growled at the intruding patrol before the trio. She was, however, shocked to Lionstar there and in the condition he was. He looked mad, and not just the angry kind. With blood staining his unkempt pelt which clung to a skinny frame and dark-circled eyes, he looked dangerous. Lizardpaw had to remind herself that he had lost more family during the tree falling at the Gathering...but where did that blood come from? She hoped prey, even if it was ThunderClan.

She looked over the patrol with as respectful and neutral expression as she could muster, taking after Flowerfur's example without speaking words. She didn't recognize the tom and she-cat, but if Elmstar continued to antagonize Lionstar...she might be becoming very familiar with them very soon. Of course there were grounds for the confrontation but...she would have taken a moment to consider her words carefully. While she watched on with a flutter of nervousness in her chest, the tortoiseshell apprentice made sure to keep her senses sharp. Who knew what RiverClan may be doing here...

[FENRIS]

Lionstar's lips peeled back to reveal sharp fangs as a low growl left his mouth. Elmstar had no reason to speak to him they way he did, he was far from a kit. But honestly, he really couldn't expect any less from the older tom. After all, all ThunderClan cats thought they were so great and powerful ever since the 'amighty' Firestar took the reins. They were nothing but cowards and thieves run by a dirty murderer, soon they would understand what it was like to work towards being great instead of getting it handed to them on a silver platter. Then RiverClan would finally be recognized as the great Clan they were, even if the praise of peasants didn't exactly mean much to the golden Leader.

"I was not originally here to fight but your snide comments are making it seem like it's all we can really do." He responded, ears flicked back at the original comment. If it was meant to be and the only way to get through was to fight so be it. StarClan would keep the kits safe until they could rescue them. The tired old cat knew in the state he was in he'd no doubt lose a life or two but if it meant finally ripping Elmstar's throat out and getting the kits back he'd risk it all. "But I know better, I know that you have some trick up your sleeve to kill me like you did my brother. And all it takes is for me to get mad and accept your challenge. I may not be the smartest cat in the forest but I'm certainly not stupid, Elmstar." The older cat's name was forced from his mouth, as if saying it caused him pain.

His gaze shifted to Flowerfur beside him, staring at her with such strong dislike for even saying his name. A younger cat was with them as well, nothing more than an Apprentice. A Deputy and an Apprentice versus two Warriors, it would sure to be interesting. Not to mention the two Leaders going at it, though Lionstar felt confident he'd kill Elmstar without too much trouble. He wasn't sure just how many lives he had left but no doubt he had less than the golden tabby and if anything he would win on sheer numbers. But the cat was a fierce fighter and earned the admiration he and his brother was given all those moons ago, with Tigerfang aiding him from StarClan he was a force to be reckoned with. Two brothers fighting as one like they had so many moons before, even if it was a bit different this time around.

"My business is of no concern to ThunderClan, so keep your nose out of it, if at all possible rather. I know your Clan has a history of snooping into matters not pertaining to yourselves but it'd be best if you stopped relying your so-called instincts and went back to camp." He spat, not letting himself be stepped on by the dark tabby's words. His weak body was screaming for him to stop before he was ahead but his revenge-filled heart kept him going and tempting him to just pounce now. He restrained that desire however, if they were to fight he would not make the first move. They were not mindless killers after all, unlike the three who stood in front of him. They were only good when dead, they were vermin. No, they were savages. Barely even human, dirty shrieking devils.

Ooc: Ugh, this is really bad, but it's something I guess? Cries, it's like 500 words, less than a third of what my first post was how did i write so much in the first place aaaahhhhh!!!!! Also sshhhh savages lyrics leave me.

[Mama Oak]

Elmstar’s inner reserves of smoldering enmity for Lionstar, which had collected and grown for the many moons they’d both been leaders, flared at the tabby’s comments. The churning of harboured resentment boiled through the his veins; blazing with an intensity that matched the fever (simultaneously snaking through his weathered muscles). It was a welcome rush of anger, for it burned away the pain of his failing body and replaced the dull ache with caressing indignation. Yet, even as it coursed turbulently through his entire being, the overwhelming emotion did not touch the tabby’s composure. No snarl flickered over his lips and his fur remained flat. But in his near-sixty moons of leadership, Elmstar had not distinguished himself as a feline entirely in-control of his temper. And as he had demonstrated on various occasions throughout the seasons, his temper was a fierce one. Although he was well-known for his constant composure, it was not a secret that it didn’t take much to push the tom from the brink. And if anyone knew how to put the static in the ThunderClan leader’s fur, it was Lionstar. That was no secret, either. “No, you see, Lionstar,” Elmstar’s voice was — for the moment — professional and level, but not entirely void of disdain. It mockingly resembled the patient warble of a queen, reminding her kitten for the umpteenth time why he couldn’t explore beyond camp walls. Tipping his head to the side, the slender tabby allowed a thin, sardonic smile to upturn the corners of his mouth. It was a grin, but not a welcoming one; a tight, diplomatic expression that offered no friendliness and was unmistakably cold. A single thread of restraint kept it from open hostility, but the way it left the ThunderClan leader’s lips, it was subliminally clear he was not afraid to bare his teeth. “So long as your paws are upon my clan’s soil, this is our concern,” his gaze swept from the golden leader and across his warriors one more time, the olive-colored depths of his eyes steeled with firm, authoritative resolve. It took a conscious effort not to emphasize their ’filthy, fish-reeking’ paws, especially after  Lionstar’s goading and tactless insults, but Elmstar remained diplomatic and steady, if only barely and if only for a moment longer. “In fact — three RiverClanners in the ThunderClan forest? Well, it seems to me that you are the misplaced party, sticking your nose where it does not belong.” In a swift transition, just as the last word left his lips, the pretentious smile fell completely from Elmstar’s maw. The old, tabby tom lifted his head and steadied his jaw. In an instant, his eyes grew a shade colder and the attenuated semblance of diplomacy that veiled his hostility became the tiniest bit more strained. “But enough with the pleasantries. You are a foolish cat, Lionstar, for speaking foully of my ancestry whilst standing in their forest. I would have thought Tigerfang imparted you with better sense than that,” His eyes returned to the RiverClan leader’s, and now the champagne-hued depths were accusing and demanding of an explanation, while his words very deliberately prodded the sore spot of his brother’s passing. “I have very little remaining patience for your imprudent insolence. So, I advise you to be concise when you explain to me why you are your warriors have violated our borders.” His eyes had grown fierce; radiant with simmering, but not yet unleashed, rancor. “I will not be returning to camp until I have seen you across them once more.” Words: 590 Tagged: Status: Muse: Notes: Phew, this was a struggle, and it shows! xD Sorry!

[Petrichor]

Flowerfur was not one for war. The tension between the two toms before her nearly lit the air aflame, and the deputy closed her eyes and sighed with a mixture of disgust and annoyance. If Elmstar were to get into a fight now, he would be in danger of losing his last life, and if Lionstar were to be the one to take that... RiverClan bragging about murdering Elmstar over the Gathering? Flowerfur still wasn't sure what she thought of Elmstar anymore, but she couldn't let him die like this. Yes, because murdering him is so much better. "It is if he made me promise," she muttered under her breath to herself before opening her eyes, a stern look as she gazed over both leaders, deciding to deal with Lionstar first. She straightened up and stepped forward half a mouse-length, her eyes attempting to fill with compassion as she spoke lowly and professionally. "Lionstar, you say you didn't come here to fight. If that's true, then why are you here? It can't be good, judging by the blood on your fur. What happened to bring you over our border?" Flowerfur knew it was probably pointless to attempt diplomacy at this point, but if there was real danger in RiverClan that drove Lionstar and his warriors over, it was ThunderClan's duty to at least listen to what's wrong. They weren't at war. Not yet, at least. Flowerfur's right eye twitched as a more cynical part of her expressed itself. Lionstar would never say he needed assistance, but the possibility was there, and Flowerfur wouldn't turn away even him without sufficient reason. And until -- unless, Flowerfur corrected herself -- blood was shed, the tension would stay just that -- tension. The deputy still managed to flick her eyes back at her leader. This was going to end badly, she knew it. Strangely, she had a sense of deja vu, and half-wanted to go check if the medicine den had any tea leaves. But as the urge had come, it was gone, and Flowerfur was standing inbetween the two leaders again. Whether or not her throat would be slit for stepping forward, for extending the olive branch, remained to be seen.

[Lionstar]

Lionstar's eyes narrowed as Elmstar spoke, the smile on his face only fueling the already present anger clouding his mind. Oh if only he could just rip that grin off his face and make him show some respect for those greater than him. It would be a small victory but one nonetheless, the old fuzzball needed to be knocked down a peg. He spoke as if he was mightier, as if he had lived like a Saint and his holier-than-thou attitude was justified. It sickened Lionstar, which only made him want to put the other tom six feet under even more.

The golden Leader said nothing as Elmstar continued to ramble on, then Flowerfur spoke. His fiery gaze flicked to her for but a moment, showing his disgust for her effort to try and join their conversation. Deputies should have known to keep their jaws shut when Leaders spoke, meaning Elmstar's entire Clan seemed ignorant and disrespectful. He had no need to answer her silly questions, she had annoyed him enough for one day. StarClan only knew what was to become of the Clan when she became Leader, the lot of them were doomed and with hope they'd be wiped out soon enough. Lionstar gave her an unamused look before Elmstar spoke again, this time feeding the RiverClanner's rage.

How dare he speak of his brother, Tigerfang knew better than to give these disgraces any kind of positive light. He knew they were trouble and told Lionstar time after time to not waste time dealing with them because they were rats and snakes. But the gold cat didn't listen and now he was facing the consequences dearly. But enough was enough, Lionstar would not let Elmstar get the better of him. "My brother taught me of your disastrous ancestry and why the lot of you couldn't be trusted. The Kittypet blood running through your veins is laughable, the forest will only benefit from your demise." He snapped, his fur puffing up and making him look twice his normal size. A low growl began to hum from his throat, growing as he marched forward to stand nose to nose with the ThunderClan Leader.

"You have only dug your own grave, you insolent whelp." And with that the growl formed into a full-fledged yowl, his paw rising quickly and claws swiping at the other's face. He was done talking, time was being wasted running around in circles with Elmstar so he needed to take action. Hopping back, Lionstar lowered his stance and pounced onto the dark tom, claws at the ready and a ear-piercing shriek leaving his open maw.

Words: 437
Tagged: ThunderClan + RiverClan
Status: Private
Ooc: Eww, bad muse is bad. But I needed to do something oh gosh.

[Elmstar]

[attr="class","blowmebaby"]elmstar . 87 moons . leader . thunderclan

[attr="class","kissyoukissingthem"]

[attr="class","monica"]he felt the blood on his paws justified
693 wordstc + rc

[attr="class","texterz-revolt"]Elmstar flicked an ear as his deputy moved closer and spoke, her voice quiet and levelly-constructed with the expected tones of diplomatic reason. But Flowerfur's words did not pervade even the ThunderClan leader's mind as he carefully watched the golden RiverClan cat before him. Disgust and disdain remained obviously fixed across Lionstar's face, and Elmstar felt his own surging hate begin to eat away at what was left of his dwindling, weathered composure. With each flicker of the river cat's golden, rage-filled eyes... each rise and fall of his blood-caked chest... Elmstar felt his insides grow a little warmer. With each undeserving breath Lionstar sucked in of ThunderClan's air, the blood pumping through the brown tabby tom stirred a little more turbulently against the confines of his veins. Each exhale made it a little more difficult to be even marginally-civil.

And when Lionstar spoke, Elmstar's breath left his body in a long, angry exhale as his lip curled up over his teeth. He had warned the RiverClan tom, multiple times, against speaking against his clan while he stood — without explanation — upon its soil. Dirtying the ThunderClan earth with his reeking, unwelcome paws. And still the ignorant fish-cat dared to insult his heritage. Still he refused to return even a minimal level of mutual respect, and refused to explain himself. Elmstar had cautioned his fellow leader that his tolerance was wearing thin, and yet the RiverClan tom insisted on draining his reserves of patient, self-control.

Lionstar began to bristle, and Elmstar's mounting anger twirled with sudden stabs of disbelief — was this cat so foolish as to attack him on his own territory? The ThunderClan tabby may not have credited his neighboring clan with much, and their leader with even less, but this level of asininity was surprising. And infuriating. Static bristled in Elmstar's fur as Lionstar sized him up; disgust and fury rolling from his brown tabby pelt in palpable surges of heat and crackling electricity. He met the RiverClan cat's eyes unflinchingly as the stupid tom shoved his snarling muzzle in his face. The low beginnings of a warning growl built in his throat as Lionstar began to speak again, and this time the threat was unforgivable.

Elmstar could only pull back at the last second from Lionstar's outstretched claws, but the strike still caught him across the face with a quick flash of heat and pain. Face forcefully turned away, Elmstar felt the warm blood already begin to bubble from his body; the sticky warmth lending a whole new strength to his already-insurmountable rage. His mew was remarkably terse; a dangerous growl. "How dare you, you filth." Snarling, his whole body rigid and tense, he snapped his attention back to his assailant and immediately fell in a fluid stance to mirror the RiverClan tom. His clanmates and the other RiverClan cats were on mute. They were blurred. They didn't matter. All Elmstar could feel and hear was the pulse of enraged, beserker blood pounding through his skull and trickling with small, ignored throbs down his face. His senses were heightened with adrenaline and his mind was clouded by rage — but still, even in his fury-marked blindness, there was a coherent understanding that this was simply foolish.

Elmstar was an old cat on his last life, and Lionstar was a tom of much more muscle and strength (not to mention, the RiverClan tom had the raw power of a new life pumping through his veins). In any fight, Elmstar was unmatched, but the ThunderClan leader would die right here and now, if only he could leave a few scars for Lionstar to remember him by. When Lionstar pounced on him, Elmstar released a furious caterwaul and kicked at the tom's underbelly with all the strength that his frail body possessed. Electricity burned with the unbridled intent to maim at his claws and he snapped his powerfully-charged jaws at Lionstar blindly, blinking his own blood from his eyes as he tried to fight away from the tom. At whatever cost, he could not be pinned by Lionstar. With the other tom's brute strength, that would be the end of it.

(OOC: Sorry I was so excited I forgot how to write coherently, but here's this and YES. I'm going to go add some blood to my baby's face in his picture for this post, oh manohman~

[attr="class","blowmebaby"]image sources: iarama & gasuaska of dA

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE

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[Flowerfur]

Flowerfur couldn't say she wasn't expecting Lionstar to ignore her. Still, there had been no shame in trying, so she sat in peace, hoping that one or both leaders would find the sense in them to calm down and talk like adults. Of course, there was no chance of that ever happening, so her eyes and ears were focused for signs of aggression, for violence. As Elmstar spoke, she could see the signs of aggression on Lionstar. His eyes were impatient, his fur was slightly raised. But before she could warn Elmstar that things were going to get violent, they did. Lionstar struck out at her leader, catching him across the muzzle. Her own fur stood up as she jumped back, her eyes darting as she assessed the threat. Elmstar had paused long enough that she had almost hoped that he would demand that Lionstar leave, to hold the moral high ground, but she should have known better. ThunderClan and RiverClan would always be enemies. That wouldn't end now, especially with Lionstar as leader of RiverClan. The deputy knew she couldn't just sit back and watch; Elmstar was weaker and older than Lionstar, who was strong and had more lives left. Her leader's body was frail while the other's, even marred with undernourishment and an earlier battle, was less so. If Elmstar was going to survive, she had to jump in. But at the same time, her electricity... she had never been able to control it. If she were to jump in, one of the cats could be seriously injured, simply by her bite alone. But then again, Lionstar had made his choice to face electricity when he struck out at the ThunderClan leader. But she had to bring things down to a peaceful level! Lionstar had just lunged at Elmstar when Flowerfur came to a happy medium between her loyalties and her moral values, lunging forward, claws unsheathed, to pull off the RiverClan leader and keep him in place until she could think of a way, any way to bring tensions low. Hopefully, nobody would die that day. Tagged: ThunderClan, RiverClan Status: Open Muse: My OCs are freaking out Notes: Poor Flowerfur. So much for peace.