Lion's Fangs [DEATH OF SLEET]

Magpieclaw snarled as the new scent hit her nose. RiverClan. She peered through the leaves, taking a better look. A tom, grey fur, fishy smell. As he spoke, the she-cat stifled a laugh. Fate bringing them here? StarClan? Ridiculous, all of it. But he'd called them carrion. He'd called her carrion?
She'd show him.
"Oh, I'd be careful who you're calling crowfood," Magpieclaw growled, leaping down from the tree in a swift motion, eyes glaring, claws unsheathed. She paced back and forth, ignoring the others and never breaking eye contact with the RiverClanner. Something about him was...off. He didn't look gullible, nor did he look weak. A challenge.
Claws out, claws in.

Cloudrunner was surprised when Gustpuddle managed to flounder her way into the WindClan group as well, but he didn't argue with the younger she-cat- the more WindClan cats here, the merrier. He returned Swiftheart's shrug, but his attention was swiftly drawn away from his Clanmates and the other bickering Clans as the RiverClan tom approached, and his eyes narrowed sharply at the sight of the swaggering foxheart. Fate? Carrion? Had the tom eaten fish that had been left out in the sun for too long? He watched as Quailfeather, Gustpuddle, and Swiftheart all spoke up at the RiverClan cat- clearly nobody was really confused as to why the tom was stupid enough to try and trigger many more cats than he could handle. "Do everyone here a kindness and waddle back to your stream." He growled, moving to stand closer to Quailfeather and Gustpuddle as the two she-cat's spoke, feeling a bit more comfortable now that his short, thick fur was brushing against theirs. Something about this all just didn't seem right, but oddly enough the screaming paranoia within him had fallen silently. That should of been a clue towards the inevitable.





A grow rattled loudly in Addergaze's throat as the Riverclan cat came slinking into the hollow, reeking of his Clans usual overconfidence and fish guts. Her narrowed eyes locked in on the tabby toms form; so far he seemed to be much more interesting than the quivering ThunderClan cats and the cowering Windclan cats. Her ears pricked at his arrogant words- he must be truly confident in his own battle skills if he thought he could insult so many different cats all at once. 'Toms.' She reflected, rolling her eyes so hard that it physically pained her while a soft snort worked its way out of her mouth.

An equally barbed jibe hung heavily upon her tongue, but the sound of branches creaking and weight thudding to the ground interrupted her, and Addergaze's head snapped around to face the newest addition- only to be greeted by the scent of her own Clan. Her pupils dilated greatly as she skimmed the darkness, awaiting for the newest SkyClan cat to formally make an entrance. After briefly tasting the air for several heartbeats to no avail, she felt her eyes widen comically with eagerness as a sleek black and white shape slid from the suffocating shadows-Magpieclaw! She listened eagerly to the older she-cat's words before stalking forward to stand closer to Magpieclaw, a snarl twisting her lips back to reveal sharp white teeth that glistened faintly in the weak light. "What a big threat from such a fat, over zealous little kittypet- how 'bout you do yourself a favor and tuck your tail between your legs and scurry back to Riverclan territory  before you become carrion." She spat, anger fanned by Magpieclaw's fierce words, unwilling to look as cowardice as all the others within the hollow.

Webtail growled, "You've got quite the tounge, it's a shame your brain consists of rotted fish and pride." The tom snapped at Sleetfang. His skill in insults was noshere near as impressive as his son's but, he could still entertain this harsh banter. "You're act as stuck-up as a kittypet with the rudeness of an apprentice tasked with mouse bile. But, I suppose anything goes when you become the very leader of LionClan itself."

Snowstorm hadn't seen Sleetfang's smug face. Once she did she lashed her tail viciously and her eye widened. "Wipe that smug look off your face, or the crows will drag you into your little island, dead." she growled. "You have the insulting skill of a kittypet, but I wouldn't be surprised, since that's all you are." she hissed.

Well, this was interesting. Magpieclaw? Venompaw had never heard of her. Sleetfang? Not heard of him either, save for just now when she heard what Markedpaw as saying. Her father, he was here rigt now and she was meeting him for the first time. She backed a little out the way, into the shadows. Not leaving of course, just steering clear
----------------------------------------------------
Markedpaw listened, and froze. This was Sleetfang? He looked cold, critical, and there was something wrong about him, off. She wanted to huddle nto Pinewhisker for comfort, but knew she couldn't. If she wanted her father to truly believe her and understand who she was, she needed to act like he was her father figure, even if he wasn't. She stepped towards him and said, though her voice cracked
"Sleetfang? I-I'm Markedpaw. Just, I know you might not believe me but do you remember Emberheart?" her eyes were pleading for him to understand. The other cats here seemed to think he was hostile, but she didn't see any reason to think it. However, him knowing she was his daughter could maybe protect her if something did go sideways "Well, I'm her daughter and... you're my father" her voice shook on the word 'father' but she managed to say it, despite the disgust that she felt at the idea.

The chorus of hisses and growls and insults, it sounded as sweet as songbirds. Some of them even knew him by name, and he swore he could've heard shock in a few of their voices. He bathed in the attention, flicking his tail back and forth, eyes turning from one cat to another to another. It was all words, words, words, but one cat, one apprentice... She was an almost pathetic looking thing, but she was the one who caught his attention. Sleetfang piqued his ears, freezing at the apprentice's declaration. A father... His kit? He couldn't pretend to be surprised at the idea... He'd thought it over often, sneaking back from one border or another, but for some reason he'd never imagined being face to face with one of his... Oh, what could you call it?

Mistakes?

Looking at her now, he could see the resemblance. Sleetfang parted his mouth in a scornful mrrow of amusement. "Is that so?"

Another ThunderClan cat. His daughter. He'd already moved his attention elsewhere, dismissive.

Vermin. All of them, vermin. It was like something dark had possessed him. That's what the feeling was. Disgust. They thought they could threaten him?

"Not afraid?" he said, oh-so-softly, murky eyes landing on a young gray WindClan she-cat. "That's what it is, isn't it? You've all forgotten to be afraid. All you rogues have forgotten your places."

He was done talking. An inferno of anger flared up in his chest, spreading through him like wildfire, and in one fluid motion he leapt at the first warrior he saw, a snowy white SkyClan tom (Snowstorm), claws outstretched, bowling them over and sinking his fangs into their leg.

OOC: READY FOR THE CLUSTERFK.

Picked the first cat to attack at random. Feel free to dogpile in multiple at a time and I'll post with Sleet busting out his kung fu.

Webtail watched as his fellow denmate was attacked and leaped into action. He ran towards them, scoring Sleetfang along the side with deep claw marks. 'Idiot' he thought in annoyance before gripping the trigger-happy tom's scruff and gave it a vigorous shake.

Quailfeather felt her hackles raise as the tom looked at her, a dangerous look in his eyes. This RiverClan tom dared call her a rogue? Her, the daughter of Smokepelt, a pure-blooded WindClan cat, a rogue? Unbelievable. She unsheathed her claws, ready for a fight... but he leapt onto some old SkyClan she-cat instead. Not sure whether to be offended or relieved, the gray speckled she-cat lunged for the idiot fish-face, giving him a claw-swipe across the face before dodging around to flank him with characteristic WindClan speed. "I'll show you who's a rogue, Sleetfang," she spat out. "You're one of those RiverClan rats who disgraced my father! I owe you some payback!"

Snowstorm hissed in outrage as Sleetfang bit into her leg. She painfully stood up and grabbed his shoulders with her front paws. She endured the pain to hold on, blood putting a red patch in her leg. She raked her claws down, leaving decent claw marks in his shoulders. She started to pant. The wound was draining her energy.

Blacktwig, a considerably powerful warrior, reared up and almost ripped his claws across Sleetfang's throat. Then, he looked at Markedpaw wistfully. He's her father; my sister's mate. Blacktwig thought, hankering for a chance to prove that he could control himself. But the impulse was too great, seeing Snowstorm, a respectable warrior, cleaved and bowled down by Sleetfang. He felt the blood on his claws, sinking into his flesh and dampening his fur. He stepped back, horrified. Oh, no... he thought, looking down at his paws. His eyes wide, he thought of his kits. What would they think? Blacktwig was utterly chilled to the bone.

Swiftheart felt a growl escape his mouth as Sleetfang began speaking. "RiverClan scum." He spit out, eyes narrowed furiously. He watched as the tom quickly dismissed his apparent daughter, and it sent a chill down his spine. He didn't understand how a father could so quickly dismiss their kit, but then again, it was RiverClan. The forest would be better without cats like him roaming around. He though indignantly. Suddenly Sleetfang flung himself at a snowy white she-cat, SkyClan by the scent. His lip curled into a menacing snarl before he, and others, began attacking him. As he raked his razor sharp claws across his back, he glanced up seeing his son, Blacktwig. His eyes widened and they flickered with worry for a split second before turning to a look of determination. Nothing would happen to his son. He knew Blacktwig could take care of himswelf, but he had made a vow to himself and his kits, though they didn't know it, that he would protect them, not matter what. He turned his attention back to the RiverClan tom in front of him and continued attacking him with all he had.

---

It all happened so fast. Fawnsplash's head was spinning. One minute a seemingly arrogant RiverClan tom showed up and began spewing insults left and right, and then he was attacking Snowstorm, her clanmate. Though she hadn't really talked to Snowstorm before, she felt a protective urge and furious rage rise in her. "How dare you!" She hissed vehemently, throwing herself at the tom. There were so many cats on him at once, and she was sure this fight would be a short one. She clamped her jaws around his hind leg, blood welling up from where her teeth sank in. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and that only fueled her white-hot fury.

Venompaw was caught off guard by his hostility towards not only his daughter, but all the cats here. It was in the split second before he attacked, that she realised what would happen. She was unable to help as he dived at Snowstorm and hissed in frustration as he sunk his teeth into the other's flesh.

She knew that, being an apprentice, she couldn't do much. That didn't however, mean that she wouldn't give it a good shot. She slipped in behind the steadily growing throng of cats, one after another piling themselves on Sleetfang. Raking her claws down his side, she couldn't help feeling a strange calm fill her as she felt his blood in her claws. It was satisfying almost, feeling his skin and fur get caught under her claws, and she bit the end of his tail, hard, loving the metallic taste in her mouth. She backed out the way again, not ready to let herself be struck quite yet.

It had all happened so fast, but the thrill of it sent shock waves of excitement through her, she was ready. She could do this. It was like being at the heart of a battle, despite the fact that the opposing team was simply one cat. One cat that could barely be counted as even that any more. He was insane, a brute, less than even a rogue or a loner. And she was ready to fight him.
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Markedpaw watched with absolute despair as Sleetfang turned away, her father. She felt ultimate rejection, the emptiness and lack of pride in her father's eyes broke her, and she fell piece by piece.

Then, she could only stand and watch like a kit as the battle unfolded around her, hissing and screeching not even registering in her ears. Instead, she could only back over to Pinewhisker and bury her face in his fur more instinctively than anything. She didn't care anymore, she just didn't. Everything was collapsing, Emberheart had lied, her father wasn't her father, Blacktwig was breaking down and her father was trying to kill another cat. Everything clawed at her, from the inside out, and all she could do was fall, piece by piece

"Swiftheart!" spluttered Blacktwig, through the muddy blood that caked his pelt. He wobbled, seeing his father. He skirted around the arrogant RiverClan tom to join the feline that sired him, the last moment he would share with the WindClan warrior, and his claws jotted pricks of blood in the blue tomcat's, apparently Sleetfang's, fur. "You... have..." heaved Blacktwig, struggling as the words slipped out of his maw. Feeling lethargic, he continued. "Sleetfang... you have... dismissed your daughter, my... niece, and... disgraced your clan!" Blacktwig's eyes blazed, as he fought side-by-side with Swiftheart, a perfect mirror of his father. He sunk his fangs pleasingly into Sleetfang's leg, hoping to hear a yowl of pain. A torrent of agony crashed into Blacktwig as claws raked across his spine, but it was brief and accidental. He paid no heed to whoever did it, unless it was Sleetfang;

in that case, the tom got what he deserved.

Pain exploded through him, claws along his flank, his spine, teeth in his leg, tail. He stood. He didn't buckle. Sleetfang kept biting, jaws clenched around Snowstorm's leg until he felt the blood well into his mouth, that bittersweet tang against his tongue. Yeah, he remembered this... This same thrill from his first battle, the blood pumping through him, the sweet fire of pain. Even with all these cats writhing over him, he could only feel the surge of passion, joy rising like sap in newleaf.

He wrenched back on the senior warrior's leg until he heard a sickening pop, and let go, throwing his weight to the side to buck off Webtail and Quailfeather, a movement that carried into a fluid roll to shake off Venompaw and Fawnsplash, claws flashing out to swipe them across the ears and face as he found his paws again, lashing out in all directions. The sweet relief as the teeth let go. The sweet sting, the blood that stickied his fur.

They circled around him like a pack of dogs, and not for a second did he doubt himself. Even against these odds.

Two cats, side by side, perfect parallels. This tom again... Fangs once again sunk into his leg, and he let out a low hiss, slashing his claws up along his spine to pay him in kind before yanking himself back, out of Blacktwig's grip. His eyes blazed with a wild and unbridled furry, something like a laugh crackling out from his throat, panting with each breath. One heartbeat of a window, his eyes glazing past Blacktwig, to the WindClan tom.

Sleetfang lunged forward again, flashing past Blacktwig and on top of Swiftheart, tearing him to the ground, claws raking up and down, that sharp WindClan scent of peat and sweet heather and moorgrass and blood invading his senses, and then he was sinking his teeth into that soft warm throat until he was almost choking on the scarlet essence.

That's what they should've done when Smokepelt had shattered Frogpaw's jaw there by the gorge. That's what he'd wanted to do ever since he'd seen Shellwater limp through the camp entrance, maimed and scarred. He only realized it now, pulling up with blood dripping from his whiskers, his muzzle stained red, a foxlike look in his eyes. He looked to Blacktwig, lashing his tail, the end kinked up where the apprentice Venompaw had bit down on it.

"There's nothing to dismiss," he breathed, tongue flicking out to lap up the blood around his maw. "There's no kinship between warriors and mice. You ought to rejoice she has at least one true Clan's blood in her veins."

Lionspark stood among the insults being spat at the tom, surprised at all of the harsh words the other cats were shouting at the RiverClan tom but found no words to try to stop them. She just stood there, focusing on the tom. She thought she was getting a good read on him but she couldn't have expected what he would do next. The tom suddenly lunged forward, passing all cats before he sank his teeth into Snowstorm's leg. The ThunderClan's warriors eyes suddenly flashed open as she stumbled backwards with a hiss of surprise and fear as she wondered what had taken hold of the single RiverClan tom. "Get off of her!" she screeched but found her paws frozen to the ground as the group of cats jumped onto the tom in an effort to stop him.

But it failed.

She was forced to watch in horror as he shook off the attacks before throwing Snowstorm off to the side before taking down another cat - this attack ending in death. Her breath came quick as the horrid scent of blood and death filled the air. No! Th-This couldn't be happening! A part of her wanted to flee - to save herself but she was rooted to the ground and realized the single direction her paws would allow her to go, forward. And so she darted forward with a yowl of anger and rage. Surely they could take down this tom. It was a single RiverClan warrior, nothing compared to the large group that stood against him....Right?