Well, Clarice...

Adderflare was up to no good. That much was obvious to anyone, save for maybe Adderflare herself. Ever the clueless innocent, she had casually walked out of camp with little more than a dismissive tail wave and the vague notion that she was going out to hunt. This would probably sound incredibly sinister to anyone who knew her, but in all honesty, she hadn't left camp with any specific plan. Just an odd impulse she couldn't quite place and restlessness in her bones.

She traced the familiar path to Fourtrees, ironic seeing as she'd showed up for about one gathering in her entire life. It was a good place; nobody really went there. And when they did, it was always fun seeing how quickly she could make them bleed. As fun as things got around here, anyway. Stepping out into the cold breeze that blew through the clearing, she shook out her burr-matted pelt and began to pace around. She wasn't feeling as peaceful as she usually did out here. She wanted something more, maybe. Or just something different. Frustration and restlessness slowly built up in her mind as she paced around silently, tail swishing from side to side.

Mistyfalcon had decided to talk a walk, finding the camp too loud and having finished with his own duties earlier. Brighteye was off... somewhere, and so he'd leave her be.

His paws led him through the tunnel and to fourtrees, battered ears pricked with curiosity at seeing the grassy hollow devoid of the large crowds that were there during the full moon. It sat empty and quiet, almost eerily so. Or maybe not so quiet, he realized, dark blue gaze landing curiously on the form of a pacing she-cat. She smelled of Skyclan, and certainly looked like she'd felt the ravages of the fire that had swept their territory in greenleaf. What he could see of her black and white pelt could only be described as ragged. Mistyfalcon dismissed her as not a threat. By her pacing, it looked to him as if she were waiting for someone, and it definitely wasn't him. It was none of his business, really. What some lone Skyclanner did at fourtrees had no impact on him.

The dark tom turned, hoping that he hadn't been spotted, intending to make his way back towards his own territory.

Adderflare froze, the sound of rustling putting a stop to her pacing. Her eye scanned the clearing. Was that... a tail? It was. Almost hidden, but not quite. The owner of said tail hastily attempted to retreat, but it was too late. She'd seen them. Maybe this was it; what she'd been craving. A good hunt. Teeth bared in a grimace that almost resembled a smile, she went straight from a standstill to a full gallop towards the location where she'd heard the rustle. It didn't take long to reach the other cat, and it took less time still to unsheath her claws and leap onto the poor tom.

She grabbed onto his neck, claws raking at skin, and started to bite at his face. Go for the eyes, she was thinking. They never expect you to go for the eyes. Alas, aim was difficult with only two dimensions of vision. Instead, she closed her jaws around his ear and shook. She tasted blood, metallic and sweet on her tongue. Ah, this was it. She continued to tear at his ear, forgetting her claws at his neck. Forgetting about everything, really. It was vaguely reminiscent of that time at the fence; everything melted away like she had tunnel vision.

A surprised grunt was the only sound that Mistyfalcon made as the other cat landed squarely on him, snapping at his face.

"Get off, you soot-stained furball!" He sputtered indignantly, instinctively ducking his head away from her jaws. Cats and predators always seemed to go for the eyes, quite rude of them. Especially so from this she-cat, whom he didn't know and had had no intention of disturbing.

Sharp teeth sank into the ear that had escaped mostly intact from the dog's mauling when he'd been an apprentice, and Mistyfalcon twisted, scrabbling at the Skyclanner's belly in vain. Still, she'd landed solidly onto his back, and trying to claw at her while not exposing any more of himself to her attacks was awkward at best as the she-cat proceeded to tear at his ear. Blood flowed from the wound, coating fur and skin, and Mistyfalcon growled at both the situation and the pain he found himself in.