A few inches of fresh powder had fallen on the territories the night before. It crunched noisily as the battle party made its way to the pointed stones, silent but for their footfalls. The mood was surly and sour, not aided at all by the blistering cold. Hawkstar made no attempt at smalltalk. He knew there was no point. He’d made all the proclamations that could be made back at the camp, to a stony reception. The anguish he felt at the bald-faced opposition of his Clan clawed at his gut. It was too late to back out now, even if he had been rash, what could be done?
At this juncture, it was all he could do to call upon the initial anger he’d felt to propel him through the no-man’s land of his own choices. He only hoped no one else would be felled along the way.
I still don’t think I’m completely wrong. He thought irritably, as he glanced over his shoulder at the collection of Warriors who had either volunteered or been selected for the fight. The group emerged from their brush cover and was instantly seized upon by the cold. The wind, which had previously shaken the trees, carded their pelts with icy fingers. Across the snow-capped rocks Hawkstar saw that ShadowClan was already present. For a few moments both Clans simply stood, shivering. It occurred to Hawkstar that Juncostar had also never led a battle party. What did one do under these circumstances? Was there protocol? He was leaning toward no. What was clean-cut or clear about something as ugly as war? He locked eyes with the other tom and his blood ran hot.
Screw it.
“ThunderClan, attack!” He yowled, springing forward with his claws outstretched. He closed the space between them fairly quickly, and lunged for Juncostar’s face with his claws.
Hawkstar barked a short laugh, shifting against Juncostar’s warm body. He was reluctant to leave, given how frigid their surroundings were.
“Have I said I’m sorry, yet? About all of it?” He murmured, closing his eyes. StarClan might have healed his fatal wounds, but they’d left him with a headache for their troubles. Though he’d perhaps brought it on himself.
“Ospreyshadow is….a very smart young tom, but he’s never been good with socializing. I am sure your Warriors hate him, but his own Clanmates have precious little love for him as well. I hope you’ll extend some empathy to his situation. I believe he’s trying to do what he feels is right.” Hawkstar felt reluctant to say more, but the truth of Copperheart’s death shadowed his words.
“All I wish to do is sleep for a moon, honestly. Let us take a recess, and in a quarter-moon I will bring Ospreyshadow and myself to your camp to discuss what we can do. There must be no more bloodshed.”
Juncostar
shadowclan leader
(he/him)
Jumping as Hawkstar attempted to sit, but fell back to the ground, Juncostar scrambled to catch the other tom. "Stop that," he scolded, breathing an exasperated sigh as he slowly pulled back, allowing his friend to rest and regain his strength. He shook his head slowly as the other tom spoke, closing his eyes as he struggled to accept the explanation. "Y'know," he muttered, sounding genuinely annoyed-- though the anger was gone, "If he'd'a just asked, instead of marching right into our nursery, we could'a just talked."
Bristling at the mention of Murktongue, Juncostar forced down the rapidly rising anger at the memory of his loss. "My uncle..." he breathed, voice quiet and strained. He had always been one to place value on blood relations, even having made an effort to be present in his many half-siblings' lives. His mother had instilled that in him. Still, though, he knew that Lightwing had had family, just as Murktongue had. In fact, the ThunderClanner had likely been more appreciated by his Clanmates, given Murktongue's own reputation within ShadowClan.
He finally opened his eyes, turning his amber gaze to Hawkstar. "So then we negotiate," he proposed, "You think you're up to that now?" He settled himself on his paws, painfully aware of the eyes that were on him in that moment. "Or should we reschedule?" he offered, a tight smirk touching his lips. "You've been through a lot today; 'wouldn't wanna tire you out too much, right?"
Still feeble, his head dropped to rest against Juncostar’s side as he coiled around him more tightly. It was a comfortable position, and his pain was now gone. But he felt as if he could sleep for a moon, once safe and tucked into his nest back home. At least he had his den back, since the ‘break’ with Chanterellefrost. It shouldn’t have been a relief for him, but it was.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m all healed up.” He rasped, trying to sit up but failing. His limbs were decorative at best, currently. “I’m sorry. Nightstorm wounded me, and I kept on fighting. It’s my fault.”
He nuzzled Juncostar, hoping to placate him.
“I’m not….sure.” His brow furrowed. What were they going to do?
“I never wanted to steal the kits from you, I swear. But I was afraid Ospreyshadow would never get to see them if they stayed with your Clan. I know he can be a mouse-brain, but he’s still their father.” Hawkstar grimaced.
“But with this much blood spilled, can we truly just walk away with nothing..? There are those in ThunderClan who greatly support the cause, and who loved Lightwing as you loved Murktongue. They wouldn’t accept a clean retreat.”
Juncostar
shadowclan leader
(he/him)
It felt like an eternity while Hawkstar laid there unconscious, and Juncostar could've sworn he felt his body growing cold. Was that just paranoia tied to his doubts of StarClan and the lives they'd been granted? He didn't have long to wonder, as Sablefire was in his ear. "What do you mean there's nothing you can do!?" he berated, "There's gotta be something!"
Panic quickly dissolved to pained relief as the other tom did, in fact, awaken. With a trembling sigh of relief, Juncostar clung to Hawkstar. "You were out way too long!" he accused, shaking horribly as he remained wrapped around the ThunderClanner. "Are you okay? Do you need anything? How's your shoulder?" he fretted, pawing gently at his friend's old wound. "Did they actually fix you?" he pressed, all too aware of leaders losing one life after another, draining themselves of all nine before even hoping to recover.
Breathing a shaky sigh, the tom snuggled in close to his friend. "StarClan, never do that to me again!" he begged, "I thought I lost you!" A silence fell then, as Juncostar began to accept that his end of the fight was done. He thought that after seeing Hawkstar dead at his paws, there were few things he wouldn't agree to. "What do we do now...?"
Hawkstar felt like he was floating, like the talons of pain had released him and he was now freefalling at a gentle pace. His body felt neither heat nor cold in the dark of ether. Though he slowly became aware of colors and shapes before him, amidst the void landscape. They appeared and disappeared before becoming defined enough to identify.
The shape of a cat began as nothing more than a distant impression, but grew sharper as it neared. Recognition dawned, and Hawkstar stepped forward, surprised to feel some semblance of solid ground upon which to do so. Though he tried to look down, around, to gain any insight into his surroundings, details flitted away from his gaze like insects avoiding a bright light. The image of Darkstorm, his uncle, burned bright and all-consuming. He was larger than life, than the oldest and tallest oak in the forest.
“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.” Darkstorm said dryly.
“Why are you so huge?!” Hawkstar demanded. In his mind dozens of questions fought for dominance, resulting in a less-than-urgent one passing his lips.
“Perhaps it is not I that am large, but you that are small. Our regrets can reduce us to a shadow of ourselves. Tell me, Hawkstar, what is it you regret?”
“Do we really have time for this?” Grumbled Hawkstar. His mind was a boggy swamp of disarray. He couldn’t remember much about where he’d come from, or why, but an urgency burned in his heart that he could not ignore.
“Come now, I would be poor kin if I let you leave without at least trying to impart some wisdom. And it is clear that you’re feeling a bit small right now.”
“I still think it’s you who’s big.”
“Hawkstar.”
“Alright, alright. Give me a minute would you?” He snapped, turning his attention inward to the menagerie of his thoughts. They were tricky little devils, reluctant to give themselves up to his probing. But they were his thoughts damnit, and he refused to be bested by them! A few silent moments of mediation yielded the vivid memories of the battle, and what had led to it. And for once he truly did feel small.
“I’ve been a fool.” He moaned.
“You’re hardly the first.” Darkstorm replied patiently.
“Cats are dead because of my choices.”
“You yourself, have also died. Let it not be said that you sent cats to face a fate you were unwilling to undergo yourself.”
“They aren’t coming back like I am!” Snarled Hawkstar.
“If I’d just handled things better, Lightwing would still be here. We probably wouldn’t even be fighting right now! Damn Ospreyshadow, the first thing I do when I wake up is I’m going to wring his neck!” Feeling suddenly agitated, he paced furiously, kicking ineffectively at the dark floor.
“Your temper has caused much harm, this is true. Bear that in mind when you feel its heat. You feel it now, do you not? There was a time when its fire could only burn those closest to you, but it will burn all of ThunderClan to the ground if you let it.” Darkstorm said, his tone taking on a much heavier quality. “Yet neither must you let the flame go out. Anger is a tool, you must take care of it. Guard its embers, but don’t let them burn out of control.”
“It’s so exhausting,” Admitted Hawkstar, feeling his body sag as the warmth within him receded to a smaller size. He prodded his chest gently, feeling the soft glow of his anger still present, but manageable.
“And I never asked to be this good-looking and athletic. We all have our burdens to bear.” His uncle smirked. They both laughed, feeling the tension of the moment draining away gradually. In the blink of an eye, the looming figure of Darkstorm itself had vanished. Hawkstar looked wildly around in confusion, eyes landing on the once life-size profile of his kin.
“There you are.” Darkstorm said softly.
“There I am.” Hawkstar echoed. The tenderness between them hung in the air, needing no explanation or commentary. Green eyes gazed back at him from a face he’d never seen in the waking world, reflecting pathways untread. Shimmering just out of focus were images of a baby Hawkkit playing in the nursery, opening his eyes to the green of the forest for the first time. Receiving his apprentice name alongside sisters whose faces were inscrutable to him, for they had never lived to bear those faces.
“Dwell not on what-if’s, or should-have’s. We only have today.” With a blink, Darkstorm’s pupils reverted back to being black mirrors that reflected only Hawkstar’s face back at him.
“I think–I think I understand.” He swallowed. “Please, can I go back? They need me.”
“Be warned, as you pass through the veil you will see my life in its entirety, as my blessing flows from you allowing you to cross over. I hope that it will offer some guidance. Learn where I did not. Live where I could not.” And with that, he pressed his muzzle firmly to Hawkstar’s forehead just as he had once before. The void they were in pulled away in a swirl of color as Darkstorm’s voice echoed.
“And try to get along with the other Clans, would you? It won’t kill you.”
Everything was rushing past Hawkstar in a furious blur, like plunging one's head beneath the whiterapids of a river. Yet he didn’t miss a thing. Two brothers, Cedarkit and Darkkit playing in a nursery with a different layout than the one Hawkstar now knew. Apprentices, still playing, but less often. Cedarpaw lagging behind, while Darkpaw basked in the glow of praise and popularity. Nights were spent goofing off and with many a she-cat, Hawkstar did not know their names but suspected this was because a young Darkstorm had not either. In the back of the memory, like sediment settling at the bottom of a clear lake, was Cedarsmoke. Diligent, trying his best. But failing more often than he succeeded. Darkstorm wanted to help, but his brother's place lay outside the warm glow of his Clan’s favor, so he was reluctant to leave it. This continued until a familiar memory appeared. The day of the rabid dogbite, Hawkstar knew it well. He turned away this time, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the ghastly image of Cedarsmoke’s deathblow. As if looking away would somehow change the past.
This time the memory continued past the initial wound. Darkstorm wandered in a zombie-like state through dirty back-alleys and vacant lots. The sight of water drove him mad, and those who recognized his symptoms drove him away as if he were a mad dog. In many ways he was. His own consciousness left him like a slow leak, ceasing at an indeterminate point. Blackness was all that he knew until a light drew him into the arms of waiting spirits, at long last. A peace, a restfulness like none he had ever known engulfed him.
Hawkstar was still reveling in the soft embrace when a harshly lit world slid into focus. He was still wrapped in warmth, in tenderness, but he could smell blood and hear cries of panic and pain, and the nearby scent of…Sablefire? Slowly he lifted his head up from the softness that enveloped his body, brushing his cheek past gray fur and a strong ShadowClan scent. Suddenly he was gazing deep into two rounded amber eyes. His heart fluttered and skipped a beat.
“H-hey Juncostar,” He rasped, still feeling as weak as a kitten. “Was I out long…?”
W A S P S I G H T
His heart hammered in his chest, his paws numb with cold and anxiety. This was always his least favorite part of his job- battle. The waiting around for the inevitable. His Clanmates and companions returning to him bloody and wounded, in need of immediate first aid treatment. He would patch them up just so they could turn around and head right back into the fray. Most warriors rarely ever tapped out after an injury and he hated watching his fellow feline recklessly risk infection for their gashes and other assorted lacerations. It just meant more work for him later, but he also understood their duty to ShadowClan and their loyalty deep enough to risk their lives.
As he waited on the sidelines, a certain familiar scent caught his attention- it was Amberhawk’s, stained with a heavy amount of blood by the whiffs he caught. Waspsight was on his paws in an instant, grabbing his bundle of emergency first aid herbs and heading in the direction of his old friend. It didn’t matter that Amberhawk was ThunderClan, the two of them became close during their journey moons ago to find the herb that soaked up oil and he knew his friend was in danger. He crossed the field swiftly, avoiding brawling cats to and fro to reach where the golden tom lay, battered by Skunkbreeze.
The moment he arrived, it seemed that the black-and-white tom knew their fight was over, for he understood that Waspsight was there to treat the ThunderClanner’s wounds and respectfully backed off so he could do his job. “Amberhawk?” The healer called to him, gently pressing a wad of cobwebs to the tom’s head to work on trying to stop the bleeding. “Can you hear me?” He frowned, already uneasy with the pure amount of blood oozing from his head wound- despite knowing that these types of injuries bled an insane amount, he also knew that a hard enough hit could be deadly in itself.
To begin with, he needed to gauge how coherent his friend was. “Do you know where you are? What day is it?” He babbled on, knowing that he needed to keep Amberhawk present and aware. If he lost consciousness, he may not wake back up. He took pieces of horsetail and marigold out of his bundle wrap, chewing them up as quickly and thoroughly as possible into a poultice before he spat them out and rubbed them into the wound on the tom’s head. If thick enough, this compress would work as a two-in-one: stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Once it was dabbed on, he topped it off with cobwebs for security.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
Sablefire couldn't help but scoffed a little, yeah she may be very new to all this fighting but she wasn't completely rendered useless. Turning her attention to a shadowclan warrior she had managed to get a few swipes in before the voice of Juncostar caught her attention. Heart pounding against her ears as ice filled her veins as she stared at the heap of black fur at the chocolate tom. "I'll be back.." she mumbled towards ospreyshadow before she made a beeline towards the duo.
She wasn't entirely experienced as persay Waspsight or any other medicine cats on the battle field she could somewhat pass with wat she could manage. Glad to have ran into Speckledmoss out in the moonlight valley territory she crouched beside the weeping tom her tail resting against his shoulder.
Based on Hawkstars injuries and signs he was displaying she could tell he was loosing a life. Recalling back to what the speckled molly would tell her during her training she knew there wasn't much they could do but what. "Juncostar it'll be okay love... He's loosing a life but once he recovers he'll be okay... " She whispered softly to the tom as her gaze stayed on her leaders frame.
"We just have to wait for him to wake back up." She reassured her gaze flickering over to the other for a moment.
Juncostar
shadowclan leader
(he/him)
Juncostar didn't have long to be proud of himself for managing to knock Hawkstar off his paws, as soon enough they were tumbling down a bank away from the sounds of battle and the flurry of claws around them. As they reached the bottom, he gave a rough kick with his hind paws, separating himself from the other tom just before his breath was knocked from him with the force of his landing. He forced himself up, paws shaking and joints sore from the fall. A snarl touched his lips, until he saw the state of Hawkstar's body. The ThunderClanner looked on the brink of death, surely-- and it wasn't long before he muttered Juncostar's name and collapsed right there in front of him.
Horror chilled the ShadowClan leader, his eyes wide and paws trembling. He took a hesitant step forward, ears ringing. "H-Hawkstar--" he croaked, eyes filling with tears. Had he done this!? He hadn't meant for it to get this far! He had never wanted to kill any-cat... That was the last thing he would've ever hoped for. He crawled forward, shaking terribly as he watched, hoping for any sign of breath.
"ShadowClan, stand down!" he cried, closing the distance between himself and his good friend as silence fell among the clearing. "Some-cat, help!" he pleaded, turning terrified eyes up toward where the warriors still stood. "Didn't a medicine cat come?" he begged, voice breaking as he turned back to Hawkstar. He hesitated before touching the other tom, as though afraid he'd hurt him more, before curling gently around his still form. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, soft sobs shaking his body as the realization of what he'd done set in.
"No..." he breathed, chest tight. "No, I didn't want this. StarClan, please..."
Hawkstar grinned wolfishly as Juncostar lept for him.
“Now that's what I’m talking ab- oof!” The hit was much heavier than he had anticipated, or perhaps he had underestimated his own response. Either way, they both were sent tumbling down the slope. Intermittent stones struck Hawkstar’s back several times before they finally stopped rolling.
Head spinning, he got to his feet with great difficulty. The world was still spinning, though he was starting to suspect it was not entirely due to the recent tumble down a hill. Up and away from them the bulk of the battle was waging, adding a distant cacophony to his jumbled mind. The pain in his side was severe enough to command his full attention, causing him to go down to one knee, chest heaving.
“Damn..” He muttered, chancing a glance to his wound only to be greeted with a chilling amount of bloodflow. His surroundings were beginning to phase in and out of focus, too. This was serious. But he was too far away from the center of the fight to have a hope of flagging down a healer.
‘Juncostar, I–” But his mind was claimed by the swirling darkness before he could utter another word. His legs fully gave out, body crumpling into an awkwardly shaped heap of black fur. As around him, the war waged on…
~
Ospreyshadow lifted a brow when Sablefire fought her way over to him. Where was Hawkstar? He’d been the one to let such a green Warrior fight. Still, he said none of this and merely jerkily nodded his head, shifting his position to guard her with his body.
It was far from over.
Amberhawk
Thunderclan
Thunderclan Attack!
Even with his fathers battle cry Amberhawk wanted this all to be a dream, he didn’t want to fight especially against Shadowclan. Hawkstar really had to go and turn his tantrum into a family affair bringing himself, Ospreyshadow, and even Oceanstorm. Of course Amberhawk wanted his nephew to get to see his children but surely there was a better way to go about that than traumatizing the kits with the deaths of war constantly haunting them.
The thunderclanner didn't want to fight, he’d hoped he wouldn't have to, but that choice was made for him when his gaze locked with a large black and white Shadowclan warrior. As if seeing red the Shadowclan warrior barreled into Amberhawk, sending the unprepared tom tumbling to the ground; his skull rattling around under the impact.
Times were usually peaceful, Amberhawk did not battle much and he wasn't prepared for this. Trying to catch his break that was knocked from him, Amberhawk attempted to steady himself as he pulled himself onto shaking legs, Alright Amber you can do this. As if he had heard the tom's inner pep talk, the Shadowclan tom appeared beside Amberhawk once more, ready to pummel him once more. Giving into his own body weight Amberhawk dropped back to the ground, dodging the warriors continued onslaught with a swift roll.
Amberhawk didn't find much solitude in his escape as it didn’t last long for the moment he caught his breath Skunkbreeze was over him once more. The Shadowclan tom was usually known for his docile and fun loving nature, this was the first time Amberhawk had seen him in battle it was awe striking for him. His warm gaze widened as the next thing he saw was the claws of Skunkbreeze striking down his face, the gashes quickly oozing with liquid. Not the face! Amberhawks only selling point now damaged. Skunkbreeze dealt one next blow to his head by striking it hard into the ground once more.
Amberhawks vision blurred, no longer being able to make out who was friend and who was foe, their pelts simply melting together into one blob before his vision failed him completely and the world went black.
His thoughts weren’t of his family or even his clan, but of his Windclan “big brother” Cometchaser and Waspsight, his best friend of Shadowclan. He didn't want the healer to see how uncool the warrior had become since their time traveling.
Amberhawk knew he wasn’t dead, just lost for the time being.
Sablefire was just about ready to leap back into the battle when her leader caught the corner of her eyesight. Narrowing her bluegreen hues the molly dipped her head slightly, "Heard Hawkstar!" She called out before letting her gaze shift about. She understood the leaders concern with her fighting with the big boys. With her lack in training she would have questioned their ability to fight.
But she wanted to show support towards her friend and show Hawkstar that he hadn't made a mistake in letting her join Thunderclan. Grateful for the fact that she had a place to call home it just felt right. Like it was certainly meant to be. Letting out a soft sigh she finally found the cheetah print tom, slinking around the fighting the molly made her way towards the tom.
At the same time she had also kept a close eye to her surroundings not wanting to get jumped when she least expected, closing the remaining gap between the edge of the battle field and to Ospreyshadow the molly skid to a halt beside the tom. "Hawkstar wanted me to fight with you if thats okay?" She mumbled to him tilting her head to the side slightly.
Juncostar
shadowclan leader
(he/him)
The heaviness of Hawkstar surprised him; given that the tom was of a probably average size, he wasn't expecting a boulder to be situated right on his ribcage. StarClan, he's dense, he thought, almost amused, as he struggled underneath the other tom. He was as good as beat, breathing labored, throat and belly scraped up pretty good, when just as soon as he'd attacked, Hawkstar was pushing Juncostar away to deal with some-cat crying for him a ways away.
Dizzy, barely able to steady his paws, Juncostar stood, waving his tail with a weak, "Yeah, yeah, no-- You go on and, uh... do that." The whole situation seemed so strange to him; he almost considered leaping while the other tom's back was turned, but even Juncostar respected a little bit of honor among warriors. His ears were ringing, the forest spinning under his feet, as he struggled to find his bearings.
He'd barely managed to process that Hawkstar had run off before the other tom returned, and to his horror, Juncostar was almost flustered by the sight of him caked in blood. Now was not the time to be romanticizing his enemies, he reminded himself. Instead of reflecting on whatever part of himself that was, he leapt at the other tom, bowling him over without another word. He bunched his hind legs under him, pinning them between the two in hopes to find some leverage over the tom as they hit the ground. Juncostar was on his back, Hawkstar atop him, and the grey tom attempted to land some blows to the tom's cheeks and shoulders.
Hawkstar couldn’t help but snicker as Juncostar wailed and easily went down under his steady rain of blows. Maybe this would go smoothly after all. He’d heard gossip that the Leader of ShadowClan was less than gifted on the battlefield, but he hadn’t expected him to be quite this pitiful. With any luck, Hawkstar could twist one of his arms until he agreed to hand over the kits.
He laid across the other tom’s prone body, pinning him with his own weight. Though Hawkstar wasn’t a large tom, it helped that Juncostar wasn’t putting up a great defense. In fact, he seemed to be trying to shield his face, which left ample weak points unguarded. Hawkstar targeted these areas with ruthless precision, using his jaws to bite at the throat and underbelly. He was in the middle of trying to figure out how to get his opponent on his stomach when he heard a familiar cry.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. His blood boiled, he was in the middle of something!
Snarling he pushed away from Juncostar to stand back up, tail lashing.
“I’ll be back- don’t go anywhere.” And with that he darted into the fray, closing in on Eaglepaw’s distress call. He bowled into his son’s attackers, clawing at them furiously until both decided to seek a Warrior with fewer lives to spare. He then hauled his son to his feet gently.
“Don’t think you won’t be in trouble later.” He growled, scanning the surrounding area.
“Oceanstorm!” He barked when he finally spotted who he was looking for. Bleeding heavily from a gash on her forehead, his daughter leapt over several cats to land before them.
“Keep an eye on your brother, would you? And Eaglepaw, if you sneak away from your sister I’ll make those Warriors look like they were just playing with you.” He growled, hardly in the mood to manage his kittens in the middle of a huge battle such as this. He left his children to find his way back to Juncostar- thought he’d settle for that Deputy too. He didn’t know what her problem with him was, but he may as well do something to deserve it if he was going to receive the same treatment regardless.
But he passed yet another Clanmate in trouble, and felt compelled to stop and beat back the Warrior accosting the new cat, Sablefire. He’d felt conflicted about sending a former-healer into battle with such little training, but she’d been one of the few to volunteer. And the less unwilling participants he drafted, the better. He recognized Nightstorm of ShadowClan as her assailant. The tom was no slouch, and it took everything Hawkstar had to repel him. Even so, Nightstorm managed to widen an already-existing gash on his side. As Nightstorm retreated, Hawkstar balked out how deep the cut was. Skin was always thicker than he remembered. He smoothed the wound with a few licks, trusting tension to hold his insides in.
“Sablefire, go find Ospreyshadow. I’d prefer you not fight alone today.” He meowed seriously, blood dribbling down his jaws. He moved on as quickly as the stitch in his side would allow, finding Juncostar once more.
“So, where were we?” Grinned Hawkstar, his features painted a ghastly red from the blood of those he had encountered in the interim.
Had it not been the fact that the molly didn't feel the need to prove her worth towards her new clan, or the fact that her friend was in need of some support the molly would have never imagine herself being in any sort of battle anytime soon. But atlas here she was, Trailing behind her clanmates her bluegreen hues shifted around as she watched the others filter in and springing out the moment Hawkstar had called for them to attack. Letting out a nervous sigh she looked for the closest shadowclan warrior and sprang toward them.
Claws sinking into their back as she gave a few bites and kicks before leaping off them in attempt to not get thrown off. Yet with that she found herself getting swiped at in the face, letting out a soft hiss she ducked away to try and avoid any more advances her ears pinned back as she then turned to her next attacker, the feline loomed over her and she knew very well that she stoon no chance against them.
Deciding it was best to try someone else she ran off to the side from safety her chest heaving slightly with each breath she took as she looked for who else was next. Last thing she wanted to do was run off because she was too scared or anything of that nature.
Juncostar
shadowclan leader
(he/him)
So this was it. Juncostar had barely become leader, and he had already led his Clan into war. His paws were tingling with anxiety, his stomach twisting painfully. He felt like his heart would leap right out of his chest with how hard it was pounding. It felt almost dirty crossing into ThunderClan territory right then, though he'd, of course, been on that side of the border many times.
As his patrol came to the agreed-upon meeting place, Juncostar paused. Mercuryrose was supposed to have been there, and he desperately wished now that she was. She was always the one to keep his head straight, from when they first met. She probably would've known better when things got too far; she would've had some good insight on this whole mess. He wished he'd listened to her sooner.
Before he had a chance to follow that line of thinking, however, ThunderClan appeared, and Hawkstar announced the attack. He gave a girlish shriek as the other tom leapt straight at him, barely managing to duck his face out of the way so that Hawkstar's claws struck his neck, instead. He'd much rather risk his throat getting hit than his face, after all. Unable to maintain his footing as the ThunderClanner crashed into him, Juncostar found himself flailing blindly against him as he was bowled over.
Eaglepaw | Thunderclan Apprentice
Whether Hawkstar would allow his son to join him for the battle or not, Eaglepaw had snuck away from his mother and siblings, tailing the patrol the entire way. The handsome spotted tom then pushed his way among a few of the other apprentices, namely shoving into Cinderspark, the newly-appointed warrior who was guiding the huddle of young cats. Cinderspark didn't seem to notice her straggler, and Eaglepaw quickly made his way to the front of the warriors. He puffed out his chest, standing proud as he waited for his father's call for the battle to start.
Watching as his father leapt straight for Juncostar he scanned the crowd of warriors, spotting some of the apprentices toward the back of the assembling Shadowclan cats, some flying to support their leader and starting to clash against Thunderclan warriors with claws and teeth.
Eaglepaw raced forward, heart pounding in his ears as he reared up at the two apprentices he had picked out from the crowd. A she-cat and a tom, both looked like new apprentices who had barely started their training. Eaglepaw let out a loud hiss, slashing his claws at the young she-cat, then her brother beside her. He backed her quickly into a corner, back arched and teeth bared.
"Those kits belong to Thunderclan, you mange-pelts know it!" The rosetted tom snarled, grabbing the she-cat's leg in his jaw as she trembled in front of him. She let out a whimper, and as he was about to pull her over, Eaglepaw felt his paws leave the ground. A dusty brown apprentice stood over him, pinning his hindquarters while a fluffy calico she-cat gripped his shoulders with needle-sharp claws.
Eaglepaw let out a shrill wail, digging his claws into the ground and writhing in pain, opening his mouth in a yowl he called out the only thing he could think to.
"Daaaaaaad, help!"