What's the matter, lives flashing before your eyes? (Open)

The walk back was gruesome and arduous, though less so for the Shadowclan cats and more so for the Windclan cats that they had made into their scratching trees. However, when they made it to highstones, Nightstar didn't turn toward his camp, but to Shrikestar's. He was going to make an example of these trespassers, and tell them exactly how much he did not want any cat trespassing into his territory. No cat stopped them as they got close, and there continued to be no resistance as he padded into the camp, signaling to Locustcall to drop Amberstone. "Some cat bring me anyone with authority around here. I've got a lot to talk about." Nightstar barked, stepping close to Amberstone and putting an unsheathed paw on the she-cat's shoulder.

Russetrye didn’t know how she’d made it home.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that she didn’t have to help Amberstone; that she could just focus on putting one paw in front of the other. She wasn’t nearly as badly injured as the other she-cat, but that ShadowClan tom had done quite the number on her shoulder. Every step hurt. Her brain felt fogged. When at last they stumbled into WindClan’s makeshift camp, Russetrye slumped into a sitting position, blinking away tears of pain. Did she regret helping Amberstone with the hawk? Maybe, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about that now, and glancing at the other she-cat, Russetrye couldn’t help but wonder how much worse Nightstar would’ve done if she hadn’t been there.

Blood sunk into the sand and rocks around the two WindClanners. Russetrye dully spat out blood- she’d bitten right into her tongue trying to distract herself from the pain of her shoulder on the way here. “Batsong… we need Batsong…” her voice trailed off. The red-pelted warrior wasn’t in great shape physically- both her shoulder and scruff bleeding- but more than that, the absolute terror of seeing Nightstar explode out at them… and the worry that Shrikestar would be angry.

The scent of blood came first, carried on the breeze into Windclan's camp. The moment it reached his senses he raised his head in alarm, eyes widened and fixed on the camp entrance. Something bad had happened, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. If whoever was injured hadn't reached the camp yet, that meant that there had to be a substantial amount of blood. His days as medicine cat were over, but he was still able to determine the severity of a wound by how thick the smell of blood was.

Still able to think clearly, not yet panicked, he dashed across camp and poked his head into the medicine den, delivering a brief warning to Batsong and Birchpaw; they would be needed. "I smell blood. I ... I think something bad happened. Someone's hurt." As quickly as he'd entered the den he exited, just in time to see Nightstar appear in the camp's entrance, bringing with him the source of the scent - A Shadowclan warrior and two Windclan warriors. "Oh stars." Both Windclan warriors were injured and covered in blood, but neither had any fatal wounds, to his relief.

At first, the deputy had assumed that they'd fought a predator of some kind (foxes specifically, Windclan had bad luck with those recently) and that Nightstar was uninjured enough to be able to carry Amberstone and Russetrye back to camp. He rushed forward, both to thank Nightstar and to guide the injured warriors to the medicine den, rethinking his opinion on the leader that he'd previously seen as cold and uncaring. Upon further inspection, though, he noticed the hostile tone in his voice, the way he barked orders at a clan that wasn't his. And the way that he had the audacity to stand on one of Windclan's injured warriors. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Clearly, unfortunately, he'd misread the situation. Whatever happened was clearly of ill-intent, and Windclan's warriors were the ones who paid for it.

Birchpaw began to tend to the injured, pushing Nightstar off of Amberstone. Smallbean made a note to thank the apprentice later. "I'm here, what happened?" He tried to mask his disgust with the leader, struggling to even his tone. "Shrikestar will be here soon." 'If you could get your filthy claws off of our warriors and make room for the medicine cats.' He said, silently in his head, but he knew he was in no place - and that Nightstar could probably rip him to shreds with ease. The longer he stood before the Shadowclan leader, the more their size difference was made more apparent to him. Anxiety began to pull at his stomach, but he pushed it way. He could do this, at least this, until Shikestar arrived. Taking deep breaths, he soothed his nerves. He could do this.

Batsong rushed after her apprentice as she smelled blood and heard calls for her name. Gathering cobwebs quickly she arrived to see nightstar himself nearly standing on amber stone until birch got him to move. She was furious when she heard nightstars mockery and demand to speak to someone with authority.

And what makes you think you have the authority to just waltz on in here? she challenged as she settled in next to birchpaw to help stop her clanmates bleeding. She already had a pretty good guess of what had happened, between nights tone and audacity to do this her warriors had probably stirn something up but to leave them in a bloodied mess like this?! She was doing her best not to shake with anger at this arrogant Tom that shadowclan had so foolishly installed as their leader. If she had been any less composed she would have lunged at his smug face and shown him that med cats could be every bit as dangerous. She for one wouldn’t mind letting him go in the same condition that russet and amber were now in. Luckily, she was composed enough to hold it to shooting a dagger gaze right into him. If this is how you treat your “Allies” she flicked her tail angerly as she continued her work leaving it at that.

Hopefully shrike would be here soon and the two of them could hash out what would become of this… as far as she was concerned night had just about declared war with this stunt. She and birch were at least able to get the most of the bleeding stopped but poor ambers belly was all raked up and tattered. What a mess that could have been so easily avoided by nightstar… even if her warriors were somehow an offense to him a simple talking to would have sufficed especially when they were “allies “.

Coyotegrin stepped out into the clearing, heavily pregnant. Waddling over to the scene, she allowed her green eyes to take in the scene, slowly trailing up to Nightstar's eyes. Gazing at him, she shook her head but said nothing. Smallbean was already here, as well as the medicine cats. If she spoke up, she would undermine Smallbean's authority. Frankly, he was handling this well to her surprise. So, she wanted to encourage this strength he was showing by not taking over. Instead, she stood by his side as a show of support. She'd be here as back up, even after Shrikestar arrived.

"Yes, this is how I treat my allies when they cross my borders several times!" Nightstar barked, a growl pulling itself from his throat as he stepped off the Windclan warrior with the tall medicine cat apprentice's shove. Nightstar's gaze and ire flicked to Smallbean, no longer regarding Batsong now. "I found two of your warriors deep into my territory, fighting a hawk, which, mind you, only happens to two grown warriors when you try to get to a hawk's prey first. Mind you, this is not the first time, since one of your other warriors, Silverwing, crossed my border and attacked my sister on my own territory." Nightstar hissed, his teeth bared. "I was fine, letting it go then because surely it was just a mistake on their part not knowing. But surely twice is no coincidence, Smallbean?" He pulled to his full height, hardly a whiskers length from the Windclan deputy, lost in his anger.

"I have done nothing to Windclan, I give them protection with my name, and my claws if you needed territory, and yet this is how you treat me?" He backed away, and circled back to the wounded she-cats. "I did not want to resort to this." Nightstar snarled, pointedly looking down at Amberstone before connecting his eyes with Smallbeans once more.[/b]

Burdockroot smelt blood. It was easy for her to detect even the slightest hint now. Trailing out of camp, she followed the scent on the wind to see who was bleeding. With her blank expression, she found the scene with Nightstar and the other WindClan cats. Pausing, Burdockroot stood gazing at the scene. What was she supposed to do? It was clear Nightstar caused this, but medicine cats truly knew no borders. With a sigh, Burdockroot continued forward and joined the medicine cats and ignoring Nightstar as she did so. "What do you need?"

Russetrye felt a deep surge of gratitude as the comforting smell of WindClan wafted around her. There were so many voices and so much noise right now that it was hard to focus- but there was Smallbean and Batsong and Coyotegrin, and even though she did not see the three she hoped for the most, this was enough. Her Clan was here. Everything would be alright.

Except that it wasn’t.

Nightstar’s voice cut through her thoughts and instinctively the short she-cat recoiled. It was hard to focus on anything, what with her heart pounding in her ears, but- what? What was he insinuating? New fear rose up within Russetrye, the fear that he was saying more than she knew and that she was in no shape to fight his words- what? What was he even saying? Maybe it was just the shock and terror combined with blood loss that made her head swim, but it seemed that the moment Nightstar spoke, she could not think straight nor register his words. He was terrifying. Why wouldn’t he just go away, and leave them to heal?

Russetrye didn’t know when she’d begun to cry. It was so kittish of her- so hare-brained- she hiccuped softly, wiping her eyes with a paw and forcing down the lump in her throat. When had this day gone so wrong? She was so tired… she just wanted to sleep.

Electric blue eyes swimming with unshed tears met Batsong’s, then Smallbean’s, then Coyotegrin- confusion but mainly fear present in her gaze. Why couldn’t they get this over with? He’d already beaten them up. What more could he want?

All over a stupid misunderstanding.

Leopardsun had been scouting the area between WindClan and ShadowClan's territories, something she did often (and which needed newfound attention now that her kits no longer needed her nearby at all times) to detect and minimize potential threats, when she had come across something suspicious and decidedly uncommon: skirmishes weren't unheard of (as with any border), but the distinct mix of scents- blood, fear, both ShadowClan and WindClan- had alarmed her, and the deputy had followed it as swiftly as she could.

It had led her back to Highstones, which was far from reassuring; each step bringing another worry for what might have befallen their encampment.

One paw after another, she slowly made her way up the rocks, a trek she was growing more and more accustomed to. What she found at the top was decidedly concerning: Nightstar and Locustcall, surrounded by WindClan's deputy, both of their clans' medicine cats, two injured warriors (one of which was presently in tears), and one seemingly uninjured (but heavily pregnant) warrior. None of which seemed too pleased with the ShadowClan leader's presence.

ShadowClan's deputy sat a polite distance away, observing the scene. She had no desire to make matters worse than they already were.

"I'd like to offer my apologies for the intrusion on your side of the rocks," she began, regarding Smallbean and the WindClan medicine cats with a nod of greeting. "I was scouting the territory for potential threats when I came across the scent of blood and fear. That trail led me back here. Might I ask what, precisely, is going on?"

Locustcall lumbered silently alongside his companion, keeping a careful eye on the limping she-cat. There was nothing she could do that would hinder them. She couldn't run to warn of their arrival and was too injured for an early attempt at revenge, but Locustcall wouldn't let himself put his guard down until they had breached the camp.

He dropped the limp she-cat unceremoniously onto the ground, taking a step back to allow Nightstar to take the lead and posture. The clawed and bleeding cats sent enough of a message, but the dark tom pushed it further, basically claiming the damage he had done, demanding attention. When did he get so cool? Locustcall turned his gaze away to instead glance around and catch the eyes of the responding cats. Anger was expected, though that didn't stop his lips from twitching whenever a cat glared or spoke with disrespect, holding back his own hisses. The medicine cat apprentice had some gall to push Nightstar out of the way of their work, something he would have admired if it weren't for the circumstances. The proper medicine cat didn't hide behind any courtesy either. He wanted to snap back,yet, it wasn't his place to speak yet, serving only as a second first-hand account, and with the anger boiling in the makeshift camp, another source of intimidation. He kept his head tall and his eyes narrow, his tail flicking behind him with barely restrained irritation.

His ear flicked when one of the injured cats started to weep. This was a Windclan warrior? Couldn't handle blood, couldn't handle conflict. Their alliance was ruined, he didn't know if it was salvageable after this, but it certainly wasn't a loss if this was an example of their ranks. He took another step back, as though the emotion was infectious.

Silverwing was frozen in place as she watched the Shadowclan leader waltz into their camp, two of her clanmates in tow. The sight of Amberstone's body was sickening, but the other cat that entered with them... Silverwing could feel all the warmth drain from her body as the Shadowclan leader began his speech. Rising on steady paws, Silverwing strode past the crowd of gathered cats and settled herself next to Russetrye. Now that she was closer, it was clear that her former apprentice wasn't just hurt, she was crying. Only once had Silverwing ever had the misfortune of seeing Russetrye cry, and that was enough for her.

Bending closer to Russetrye, Silverwing whispered to the other cat, "Which one?" Her gaze traveled to the two Shadowclanners before Silverwing whispered once more. "Which one of them did this to you, my dear Russetrye?" Somehow the silver she-cat had been able to keep any anger from her tone. The only sign of the fury that was boiling in her chest was the slight twitch in her eye. One of these cats wasn't returning to their half of Highstones alive, and if it had to be Nightstar, then Shadowclan would be looking for a new leader. "Which one of those mongrels hurt you?""

It was time for the leader to make his grand entrance. Shrikestar padded into the clearing, eyes seeing all that was happening before him. Though his steps were normal, calculated, there was anger rolling off his fur. Known as one of the calmer leaders, it may be a surprise to some to see him in such a state, but there were times when anger had to make itself known. This was one of those times.

"Nightstar," he spoke clearly, a chill in his voice, like the leafbare winds across the moors. "Step away from my warriors." He padded forward until he was in the front, in the thick of things, eye to eye with the ShadowClan leader. "Barring a murder, I would pray that these are injuries from a predator, and not from your own cats. Let me hear it from your own mouth." Thankfully his medicine cats were already at attention, taking care of the injured warriors. "Pray that I like the answer I hear." His claws came out, digging into the soft earth beneath him. The alliance was the further thing from his mind at the moment: all that mattered were his own clanmates, and what was happening right in front of him.