A brindle, a rock, and something Mottled. Wait, is that a bear?(Closed)

Rockpaw gave a yowl, heaving for every breath, his fear chilling his heart to the point of feeling no pain. With this numb feeling in every nerve-ending the Thunderclan apprentice turned to the rogue with fire in his eyes, shakily trying to get up and throw the rogue off but ending in utter failure the tom roared as loud as his torn and blood drenched throat could allow.

"If I die here.. tonight, because I wished not to kill a tom who may have a family, than I will die with pride and with the certainty that Starclan will accept me." The tom spat, blood spattering against Bear's chest. The fire in his eyes so great that it seemed that the apprentice would burst in his fury. Rockpaw dissolved into a hacking fit, weak as a kitten as he choked up blood from his torn lip and throat.

"But when I am gone, and you are there with the famed Darkforest, I will end you." Rockpaws eyes squinted, his body relaxing as he spent his time staring into the rogues eyes in defiance, if he died like this, he will have done something good for himself. He will have died showing exactly how strong a true clan-cats spirit could be, nothing that a rogue like him could ever understand.

Brindlewhisker wanted to clout Rockpaw with enough force to send him flying to the highstones, but instead her ears flicked warily at Bear's words- taking on 'forest cats'? Capturing Clan cats? Just what did this tom think he was doing? Did he really wish to earn himself in the negative light of all Clans? Confusion continued to well up within her, absorbing a greater part of her attention, causing her to tune out most of Bear's arrogant speech. 'Ashstar will need to know of what happened here tonight-  although I'm sure she won't appreciate any of this.' She reflected, tail tip lashing irritably at the thought of telling her leader about the skeevy rogue. She continued to remain proccupied with her thoughts, pondering the possibility of Bear's words but when the mention of the murder of her Clanmate left the tom's mouth, her head to snapped upwards and body became taunt with anger. Her body became so tightly wound with a paralyzing fury that she could only sit there and watch as Bear launched himself at Rockpaw.

Sprucethorn.

Pupils dilating with a feral rage at the mention of her murdered Clanmate, Brindlewhisker's pale eyes fell to crescent-like slits while she observed the fight with a cold, detached fury. Her lips pulled back into a twitching snarl as Bear's words ricocheted within her narrowed mind- so this bastard reeking of carrion and urine was claiming responsibility for the murder of a WindClan warrior? Her thick nape fur began to bristle furiously at the mere thought of the overly-fed Bear killing Sprucethorn, and her powerful muscles began to twitch furiously beneath her sleek fur.  Her claws slid from their sheathes once more to rake furrows in the cold, brittle earth, her mind envisioning Bear's flesh instead of the Leafbare dry earth. A rogue like Bear was a disgrace to the identification- a blundering, greedy fool such as him would irreparably tarnish the already fragile rank of Rogue. It was cats like him who made the Clans look down upon outsiders with an unfavorable glare. His proclamations made her blood boil and veins twist with outrage and the fact that they likely shared similar origins made her want to retch and tear his throat out at the same time. Although she likely wouldn't vomit, the possibility of tearing out Bear's throat didn't seem too insane in her wrathful mind; whatever other crimes he had committed would probably justify the act of her sinking her teeth into his fat, gluttonous throat.

Bear's bellowing roar immediately cleared the delightfully dark visions from her mind and Brindlewhisker was snapped out of her trance, fully jolted back into reality. Her teeth ground painfully as she assessed the situation- for some foolish reason Rockpaw obviously believed that his noble- I'm-not-going-to-fight-back routine would be enough to keep him alive, when in fact, it was probably the worst thing he could do. 'I'm going to shred the ears of his mentor- how could they ever enforce such ideals!" She reflected, fur bristling even more as she caught a glimpse of the viscous, dark liquid bubbling and frothing at Rockpaw's lips. 'How dare he go after such a young cat! He's nothing but a quivering, sadistic coward who only preys on the young or weak!' She reflected, practically spitting with rage as she stalked forward towards the pair. She would make Bear wail in misery for even thinking that he could harm the ThunderClan apprentice under her watch. One side-glance out of a narrowed eye confirmed the fact that Mottleheart would be almost entirely useless in this situation- no matter the demons he seemed to be battling at the moment, she couldn't afford to waste time in trying to pull him from his shell-shocked trance- although a small part of her was tempted to rush to his side and press against him. But comforting Mottleheart's frightened behavior probably wouldn't help her much in the long run as even if he did  fight along side her, he was still recovering from his Eagle-wounds. But she could easily handle the rogue on her own- she was the eldest out of the bunch and already a seasoned battle veteran going up against some half-trained, hate-fueled disgrace. How hard could it be?

Breaking into a hurried gallop, Brindlewhisker charged forward towards Bear and Rockpaw, a silver shadow of bristling fur, tensed muscle, and bared fangs. Thrusting her shoulder into Bear's side with enough force to send the tom staggering away from the limp Rockpaw, she proceeded to lung forward at the tom, completely enraged. Rearing up on her hind legs to tower above Bear, she began to batter his skull with a barrage of incredibly quick, powerful blows that shook his head. Her thorn-sharp claws raked mercilessly at the tender skin around his eyes and cheeks as she continued to land a few more skilled blows. With one last powerful strike that snapped Bear's head in the opposite direction, Brindlewhisker dropped back onto all fours before striding away to position herself in front of the injured Rockpaw and shaken Mottleheart. "If you think attacking a cat half your size and age will reaffirm your utterly pitiful masculinity then you're wrong." She snarled, face contorted with an uncharacteristic rage, "The moves you use are incompetent, weak and rat-like, just like your lowly lifestyle! If you're so eager to test out your sloppy fighting skills on a Warrior, then let's see how you hold up against a real warrior who not only outmatches you in strength and speed, but wit as well." She spat, front half lowering in a defensive stance.

Bear shrunk backwards briefly under the force of her blows. At least one of them has some sense of fighting skills, He thought, sneering silently at the apprentice. The rogue leaped backwards, staggering slightly, before regaining his firm fighting stance. Droplets of blood blurred his vision and he shook his head to try and clear them away. The sight of his own blood on the ground enraged him. Since he had fought with Sprucethorn, any other confrontations had been easy for him. Even now, living in a barn of hostile cats that mostly disagreed with his ways, the tom was able to handle his own. Any fire that had started pounding through his veins at the beginning of the fight only intensified. A ferocious snarl broke from his throat as he rushed towards the cat that had just attacked him.

His long claws were fully unsheathed as the slammed against the side of Brindlewhisker's face, leaving deep gouges. Bear almost roared as he rose up on his hindlegs and smashed his forepaws down on her head. Without missing a beat, he continued to batter her with his sharp claws. Any second, Bear expected a retaliation. There was a spirit in the she-cat that he admired. Everything else about Brindlewhisker was the reason he hated clan cats. She was demeaning, disrespectful and worst of all- ignorant.

"You clan cats speak as if you're so much better than the rest of us! Sparing the weak and younger?" He scoffed at the sentiment. Flashes of Riley disappearing into the forest only fueled his anger as he raged on, "I am not the one who has murdered a kit! I would never sink to your pathetic level!" Years of pure hatred pushed him on. Every ounce of disdain he had towards the clans and clan life urged him forwards. The battle-scarred tom yowled and continued to lash out with his forepaws. Even if the trio managed to chase him off for now, Bear was determined to leave his mark on them.

White-hot pain exploded in the side of Brindlewhisker's face as Bear's claws sliced through her fur, skin, and flesh. His long, filthy claws left a burning trail across the bridge of her muzzle, eye, and cheek, and warmth began to spread across her face. Blood began to pulse profusely from her torn eyelid, the near-black blood spilling into her eye causing a dark film to spread within her vision, large dark spots obscuring several things from her view. She managed to shake her head briefly in a vain attempt to free her now swollen eye of the blood hindering her sight, sending droplets of the thick, scarlet fluid spraying onto the brittle leaves surrounding the battling pair. She hardly even felt the way Bear came crashing down on her head- her veins were numbed with the automatic flood of adrenaline, spurring on a newfound wave of rage. She allowed him to freelance his blows, noting with a twist of sour amusement that the moves Bear seemed to be using very similar to what she had attacked with. 'Of course he has to use similar moves- he's nothing but a lowly, disgraced Kittypet who's unable to defend himself. He lacks the intelligence to come up with his own moves!' Came the vicious, hardly-coherent thought than fizzled within her pounding head, filling her paws with a burst of energy.

Was this really all he had? She had encountered mice with a stronger kick than what this rogue could offer. She was quickly growing tired of the slacking, cowardice moves Bear was using- if he wanted a fight, then she'd show him a real fight. With a furious hiss, Brindlewhisker snatched one of Bear's lashing forepaws out of the air, ignoring the way his unsheathed claws clacked painfully against her teeth and how his coarse, greasy fur shed into her mouth. Grasping his paw in the side of her mouth, she gave him an enraged glare as her teeth locked down on his extremity. Her teeth sliced through the thin flesh and muscle that layered his forepaw, sharp molars tearing into the delicate pads on the bottom of his paw. 'Let's see if he can haul his miserable, overfed, humiliated self back to his pathetic nest under a Monster when I grind the bones in his paw to dust.' She reflected, shaking her head viciously, her own forepaw flying out to painfully slice at Bear's nose and muzzle. After slashing wildly at his face for a few brief moments, Brindlewhisker tightened her grasp on Bear's paw before snapping her head to the side with all the strength she could muster, causing Bear to lose his balance and tumble onto his back on the ground beside her.

"We spare the weak and nurture the younger because we have morality and compassion- two things an inbred like you clearly lacks the capability to understand. Although I don't blame you for your lack of wit- it's not your fault your mother coupled with some drooling dog to spawn a heinous creature like you!" Brindlewhisker snarled, bloodied teeth bared in a menacing display. Rearing up above Bear, she lifted her paws well above her head while the Rogue continued to lay flat on his back below her. With a grunt of effort, she slammed down onto Bear's belly, painfully crushing all of the breath from his body in a stunning move that mimicked the one she witnessed Fishstar using to break Smokepelt's jaw all those moons ago. Before Bear could even wheeze in another breath, she fell upon him once more in a flurry of quick blows that tore at the flesh of his face and chest, glaring down at the rogue with one fury-filled eye and one eye hazed a ghastly red due to all the blood drizzling into her sight. "Do not allow yourself to become disillusioned with the pathetic idea that Clan cats murder kits- we protect them! We take them in and raise them among our own! Do not allow yourself to succumb to further humiliation by believing such a mousebrained notion." She growled, the thought of her precious memories of being raised alongside all of the other WindClan kits being tarnished made her blood boil even further- who did this tom think he was?

Despite the fresh wash of fury re-energizing her blood-splattered form, she forcibly repressed the carnal urge to see Bear's throat open in a bright-red smile. Rockpaw's safety was more important that finishing off some over-confident kittypet- she didn't want the burden of knowing that Rockpaw sustained some life-changing injury all because she was unable to put aside her own personal vendetta. Besides, continuing to fight Bear would be a hard-pressed battle that wouldn't be won without serious injures. "Although we'd never harm a single whisker on a rogue kit, we're not above killing filthy rogue scum like you," Brindlewhisker snapped, pressing her paw down upon Bear's throat as spoke, using just enough force to emphasis the meaning of her threat. "Slink back to your den now and I won't be forced to gut you and leave you to die soaked in your own blood and urine." She mewed, tone strained with a repressed wrath. Although there was exaggeration to her words, she hoped that Bear understood that if he kept going in his foolish attempt to attack the three Clan cats, she wouldn't be above inflicting mortally wounding injuries.

A sharp, pained, yowl broke from the rogue's throat as Brindlewhisker mauled his forepaw. The agony was like nothing else and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out again. As the warrior continued to attack, his head swam. It was a mixture of pain and memories. The combination made it hard to focus. Until Brindlewhisker made a jab at his mother. Bear's head snapped up into attention, breaking through the waves of hurt that distracted him. The rogue had always hated Sunset for leaving him like she did. The pathetic excuse for a mother that she was had enraged him, both as a young kit and even now. But the words coming out of this clan cat's mouth, far outweighed the feelings he had about his own kin. Pride was stronger.

Before he could protest or attack, all of the air was forced out of his lungs. It came out in a grunt as she put a paw over his throat. The rogue was not at all thrilled with his current state. However, she had managed to stun him for a little bit. Every attack was filled with skill. He hated to admit it, but she was probably more skilled in combat than him. Fighting over scraps of food focused more on brute strength than clever skill. Each time the tom had attacked someone else in twolegplace, there had been the intent to simply kill and no need to outsmart. Most loners and rogues were not known for their exceptional fighting skill, and even if Bear was on the high end of that, he lacked any formal training that clanlife had to offer. Unfortunately, he was out-skilled.

A growl build up and in chest and rumbled as Bear thrashed from underneath Brindlewhisker. He kicked out with his hindlegs, just enough to throw her to the side next to him. Every bit of his body screamed in pain as he leaped up and on top of her. Jaws clamped down on the side of her jaw, dangerously close to her throat. Bear let out a low hiss, "You're a lying, star-gazing, clan idiot. Someday, we will meet again in battle and I promise you that you won't make it out alive."

With that, the rogue broke away and raced out of fourtrees, wincing at the pain in his pad and pelt.

Triumph flooded Brindlewhisker at the way Bear thrashed uselessly and helplessly underneath her- clearly all the unpleasant scars that wormed their way through his greasy, dull fur had proved her earlier assumptions that he lacked in skill. A grunt escaped her lips as he finally managed to kick her away and her spine screamed in protest at the way she forcefully hit the compact earth, but before she even had time to fully process the ache that now touched her bones, Bear was on her once more. His teeth snapped precariously close to the fragile muscle that defended her throat, but all she could do was wrap her forepaws around his blood-slicked shoulders and allow her claws to become embedded into the rogue's shoulders again, clinging desperately to the tom to defend her vulnerable jaw and neck.  At Bear's words, her good eye flared with a revitalized anger- she had defeated him once, she could easily do so again. "I'll eagerly await that day so I can tear your belly open and see all the rotten worms that make up your innards spill out." She spat back, wrenching her throat free of Bear's grasp. The wound marring the side of her jaw was shallow and clumsy, only just managing to tear the precious skin- but no matter how sloppy it was, the wound still bled. Hot, wet blood began to creep down her chest and shoulders in fiery tendrils, but the wound hurt no worse than the still-stinging claw marks scored across her face.  

"Toms- always having to compensate for their wounded pride." She grumbled to herself, stiffly hauling herself to her paws, spitting out any fur and flesh that remained wedged in her teeth as she did so. Brindlewhisker shakily rose to her feet, limbs locking stiffly and awkwardly under her weight, but despite the swaying she still remained on her feet. Her good eye remained trained on the quivering bushes that Bear had smashed through during his hurried escape, and her tail kinked slightly as she listened to the cracking of twigs and undergrowth as the Rogue fled- she could easily give chase. Hunting down the defeated Roue would be greatly gratifying, but at this point she wasn't in prime hunting condition; plus Rockpaw would probably die if she left him here with the still frozen Mottleheart. Swinging her sore neck around, she observed the shaken Mottleheart and the half-conscious Rockpaw with a sigh, staggering back towards injured ThunderClan apprentice. Lowering her head so that she didn't have to strain her remaining good eye even more, she sniffed at the shoulder wound and his torn lip as they were the worst of his wounds.

"Can you stand?" Brindlewhisker murmured softly, lapping softly at the ThunderClan apprentice's cheek, doing her best to clear away the rapidly-drying blood that was spiking the fluffy fur of his cheek. Judging from his obviously battered state, she realized that he probably wouldn't be able to stand for long, let alone walk all the way back to his camp. 'Are we going to have to carry him all the way back home?' She reflected, dismayed as she snatched a brief glance up to the sky that was already smudged with the watery light of dawn. Continuing the gentle cleaning of Rockpaw's face for several moments longer in an attempt to rouse him into a more alert state, she only stopped to begin to work her sore shoulder under the tom the best she could, aiming to lift up the ThunderClan apprentice the best she could. She grunted as she managed to prop the apprentice up into a slouched standing position, her sore limbs shaking briefly as Rockpaw's weight rested entirely on her. 'How are we supposed to get him home if I don't even know where I'm going?' Brindlewhisker reflected, gritting her teeth tightly- but then an idea managed to worm its way into her mind. Snapping her head towards Mottleheart, she gave an impatient jerk of her head to try and urge the warrior to come aid her. "C'mon, we have to get him to a Medicine Cat sooner rather than later." Mottleheart had been part of the patrol that had taken Rockpaw home from WindClan a few moons prior, so he hopefully could remember where their camp was. She gave Mottleheart an imploring look, hoping desperately that he would wake from whatever trance he had fallen into and come help her.

While Mottleheart heard the voices being snapped back and forth between the yowls and hisses of combat, the meaning of the words meant nothing to him as he shook, his claws digging lightly into his head as he mindlessly whispered the same comforting words over and over. "Please let it end, please let it end, please let it end, please let it end..." His eyes were snapped shut, unwilling to see what was going on as the horrid scent of blood met his nose and his body tensed, curling even tighter. "Please let it end, please let it end, please let it end..."

And finally, it did.

What little voice he had grew quieter as the only sound he heard was of a fleeing cat. With a trembling body and a quicken breath, he flickered open his eyes at the sound of Brindlewhisker's voice. The words held little meaning to him at first, confused as he struggled to escape the cold claws of his memories but then he saw was the downed form of Rockpaw. It took another second for him to  even recognizing the battled, bloodied body until the memory of what had just happened came flooding back. "Rockpaw!" He suddenly screeched as he darted to his paws, his eyes wide open as he took stumbling steps forward. Despite almost tripping over his paws, he made good distance before the scent of blood became overwhelming and he sluggishly came to a stop.

His chest heaved as he turned to look at the worn figure of Brindlewhisker. A sicking taste entered his mouth when he saw how terrible she looked and his gaze fell onto his clean, unused paws. There was silence for a few seconds as he struggled to find his breath and tears started to run down his cheeks. "I-I'm..." his mouth flapped open as he tried so hard to find the right words to say. How could he call himself a warrior? He had done nothing to save his friend...His friends when that rogue appeared. Rockpaw looked half alive in a bloody heap and while Brindlewhisker was standing, she looked little better. But he? Why, Mottleheart didn't have a speckle of blood on his fur nor his claws.

For a few seconds he stood there until he suddenly gave a hard shake of his head. There would be time for blaming himself later. With a hard turn, he stormed over to where Rockpaw laid while doing his best to not gag at the horrid sight and smell. "I'm sorry if this hurts...But we need you get you home," he whispered softly as he lowered head, nuzzling his friend's cheek before grabbing the apprentice's scruff. Raising his head just slightly to look at Brindlewhisker, his gaze no longer filled with panic but hard rage. Rage at himself for doing nothing and at that rogue for harming his friends. He would have gritted his teeth together if it wasn't for the fact he was holding onto Rockpaw's scruff. With a gentle jerk of his head, he turned and slowly started to pull Rockpaw in the direction of the ThunderClan camp.

Rockpaw groaned blearily as he felt a tongue lap at his injuries, twitching as her rough tongue did so, barely having enough strength to jerk away even if it was an automatic reflex. Slightly roused from the shadowy tendrils of unconsciousness- how was he still conscious? - he struggled to get his paws under him, his legs felt like all of fourtrees were pressed onto them. "Mom..." The young tom whispered, his voice sounding like rocks being scraped together.

Pushing the blood out of his mouth that had drained in from his torn lip he shakily looked up at a brown and white tom bounding over with panic in his eyes, Rockpaw could feel the froth and blood wetting his chin, hopefully he didn't look too bad. Was it him that caused this panic? He's never seen anyone panic over him before. Looking back towards the she-cat he tried to let her know of her wounds, maybe the brown and white tom should panic over her, he would be fine, he always was.

The Thunderclan tom's ears felt full with cotton as he tried to listen to the panicked brown and white tom, he knows his name, why can't he remember it? He still felt like he could collapse into the best slumber he could have, but the she-cat wanted him awake didn't she? He would try. 'hurts...home' Why would home hurt? Wasn't he home already?

When the tom grapsed onto his scruff and started heaving him his mind snapped to sudden clarity - how could he forget his best friends names? Mottleheart and Brindlewhisker? He promised to never forget those names again -, he could feel the wound on his neck stretch painfully, and his jutting ribs and hips hit each thorn and rock. He could feel his lip stretch as he couldn't help but screech from the pain, his legs hardly following his command. But his spitting,spluttering, and screeching only lasted for so long, the pain putting him so close to those shadowy tendrils than ever before.

Then everything stopped, everything turned black and Rockpaw was taken away by those shadowy tendrils and lost to unconsciousness.