Ultimatum ((CLOSED))

OOC: https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=i87LuHpIowQ

IC: The barn stood silent against the sky, a dilapidated old shack smelling of rogues and kittypets. Clouds congregated around it, filling up the normally blue sky. A small, three-cat patrol ran towards the building at top speed, fairly flying across the earth to their destination. Normally, WindClan cats wouldn't be caught dead by the Abandoned Barn, the hideout of loners and other pathetic non-Clan cats, but today they had a reason. A criminal wanted by all the Clans was there, and justice was hot on his tail. He would escape his fate no longer.

Ashstar ran at the patrol's head, green eyes narrowed, filled with a fire of vengeance and fury. Her gray fluffy tail streamed out behind her as she raced onwards, destination in her sights. Dried blood still coated her long fur, making it a ruddy red. Her claws were unsheathed, ripping into the grass below, tearing out chunks and giving her further traction. Her dangerously pointed teeth were bared in a snarl as she kept her enemy's face in her mind's eye. The tom was a traitor, fox-heart, and monster in one. He had caused unimaginable pain. He had maimed a WindClan apprentice. He had set fire to the forest. He had hurt her son. Rockthorn, the violent piece of scum who had committed all these crimes, couldn't be allowed to live any longer. He was going to die- and at the paws of the leader of WindClan, no less. An honor for him, I'm sure.

As they neared the barn, the she-cat moved her tail in a silent, jerky signal to the warriors behind her. Raccoonfang, her adopted daughter. Slatethroat, her apprentice. Her fluffy tail pointed to the right then to the left, telling them with a few movements that they should cover her on both sides. They would have the element of surprise, and they ought to use it. Having sent that message, the WindClan leader barged through the entrance, enraged green eyes scanning for her foe. She the found him, she smiled, a smile that never reached her eyes. Then without further ado she leapt at the tom, striking a quick clawed blow across his face before grabbing his scruff and shaking him violently. Rockthorn wouldn't hesitate to attack her- why should she show him the barest courtesy? Having him stunned, she growled through a mouthful of his dark gray fur, "how dare you hurt Mottleheart?! After all the things you've done- maiming Shadepaw, attacking your Clanmates, setting fire to the whole forest, and StarClan knows what else- you had to attack him?! You escaped your penalty once, you rogue, but there's no running away from me!"

Ashstar used Scruff Shake and Swift Strike on Rockthorn, dealing 18 damage and costing 35 stamina. Stunned for 2 turns.

Ashstar:
120/120 HP
265/300 SP

Rockthorn:
27/45 HP
140/140 SP

The member 'Ash' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Effect Dice' : 5

Rockthorn had retreated to the barn after he had nearly killed Mottleheart, his friend having nearly defeated him in battle but with no surprise on his side it was loosing battle to begin with. The taste of rabbit was thick on his tongue as he had taken a bite before giving it to the pitiful rogues in a way of thanks and persuasion to treat his wounds, but it wouldn't last apparently.

He was resting in his two-leg pelt nest, it having grown on him in his time spent in the barn. Though, even if he felt dead to the world the scent of Windclan was always enough to wake him. Lashing to the barn entrance he looked to see that they weren't there, but they would be any moment. Grasping his kitten by the scruff he chucked the squealing kitten into a hay stack and with his tail to motion it to be silent before settling down, he knew they were coming for his blood but he was in no shape to run. He wouldn't hide either, he faced away from them. Though they were silent they didn't know the slightly noisier parts of the barn, so when they made their way into the barn he waited.

He wanted to surprise them, fire away before they could land a blow but claws struck against his cheek and teeth dug into his scruff. He recognized the grey pelt of Ashstar as she shook him like he was a chew toy for a dog, a screech split from his throat as he felt useless under her. He tried desperately to claw at something to get her to release him but it was no use. "He attacked me first! I have no excuse for Shadepaw, the apprentice was foolish enough to think Four-trees would keep her safe from all predators! After all, I think I did her a favour! She'll learn to look around and scent for once!"

Rockthorn spit and lashed, he wasn't going to make it easy for her that was for certain. "Mottleheart was foolish anyways, he's so soft and weak. Like a kitten! No warrior should be allowed to live like that, any cat could easily sink their teeth into his throat and let the blood gush. You're lucky I let him live! This just goes to show how foul and weak you are as a leader, letting your warriors go out alone...your apprentice's, none of them are trained right. You sit on your furry behind and watch as I attack and slaughter your cats, yet you've barely done anything of use!" He roared, trying to strike her where she was weak.

"You didn't have the guts to try to kill me back in Thunderclan camp, so what makes you so sure you can now? You'll have blood on your paws, could you really deal with that? Knowing you've murdered in cold blood? Really, that'd make you as much as a monster as I am." Rockthorn hissed, trying to spit into her face as his tail lashed and his unsheathed claws dug into the wood boards.

The young warrior could not help but keep his paws unsheathed the whole trek to the barn. His muscles fired with what seemed like endless amounts of adrenaline. Slatethroat had never met the former Thunderclan cat before, but he hated him with every fiber of his being. Rockthorn was worse than Riverclan scum; he was worse than crowfood on the coat of the lowest rogue. Part of him was frustrated with Ashstar for letting the psychotic rogue live as long as he had. It was unacceptable to let any cat who harmed any Windclanner to live. However, with her decision to hunt him down, the tom could only be pleased. And she had chosen him to come along. A low growl rose in his throat as they neared the barn. This is where Rockthorn's life would end.

His green eyes focused on the grey leader. He watched as he tail flicked a silent direction to him and Racoonfang. They would ambush him. There would be no escaping this time. Windclan would have its revenge on this piece of mousedung. Their patrol would finish what Thunderclan had failed to do- kill Rockthorn. It all happened so fast as soon as they had entered the barn. Ashstar was on the dark grey rogue in a flurry of claws. Easily, she had him pinned to the ground. Slatethroat felt a brief moment of pride as he watched his leader and mentor so easily take down another cat. His claws itched to join in on the fight, but it was evident that Ashstar had things under control. The warrior stood off to the right side, in case their enemy tried to slip away at all. Racoonfang had taken the opposite side. Behind Rockthorn there was only barn. It was time to end this.

Raccoonfang certainly wasn't going to stand to the side while her father's attacker was fought alone by Ashstar, she was going to get her revenge for her father. She didn't care if Slatethroat was just going to stand there. "She may not have what it takes to end you but I certainly do!" Raccoonfang was unaffected by Rockthorn's threat of saying they would drop to his level if they killed him. She would take that title from him if it meant getting revenge for her father.

The warrior raced forward, her hind legs turning and hitting Rockthorn in the side as she kicked the stunned warrior, as soon has her hind legs connected she spun and lashed out with her front paws dealing more damage.

Raccoonfang used Back Kick and Swift Strike dealing 16 Damage, -25 Sp

Rockthorn:
11/45 HP
140/140 SP

Raccoonfang:
45/45 HP
115/140 SP

The desperate threats and jibes flowing nonstop from the pinned tom's face didn't aggravate Ashstar in the slightest. She was already at the highest point of fury she could reach. His claws flailed around uselessly, trying in vain to find a hold on her fur. It was satisfying to finally have the upper paw on the rogue tom. Ignoring Raccoonfang's impulsive attack- this was between her and the once-ThunderClan devil alone- the leader pinned him down and dug her claws into his shoulders. "First you say Mottleheart attacked you first, then you claim he's soft and weak? Maybe you have more brain damage than I thought," she spat. "And a warrior who would rather help than fight is far more use than a disloyal traitor. You say I'm weak for letting him live? He's already a better cat than you ever were or ever will be, Rockthorn. Letting my warriors go out alone, huh? I admit that was wrong- otherwise I could have kept him safe from ever thinking you would ever be anything more than a dangerous rogue! And killing a monster is far different than killing innocent cats. I'll live perfectly fine with your blood on my claws." The gray she-cat bent down close to the scarred tom's face, but not close enough that he could hurt her. She stayed tauntingly out of his reach. Lifting up one clawed paw, she struck a sharp blow to his eyes, blinding them in one strike. The least he deserved was the fate he had inflicted on Shadepaw. "All you will ever be," she seethed, "is a rage-filled, twisted, insane, demonic psychopath who died as he lived- a disloyal rogue with no one to love him." The WindClan leader spat contemptuously in his face before lowering her head quickly and sinking her jaws into his throat. Blood flowed out of his neck, drenching her muzzle. Whatever soul had been in him fled his scarred and maimed body and rushed to the Dark Fores where it belonged. Rockthorn was dead. And he deserved every bit of what he had gotten. She felt no pity, remorse or grief. Nothing at all. She got off of the tom's limp body. "It is done."

Rockthorn spat and shrieked as claws tore his pelt and paws impacted on his pinned form, with no leeway to give release to the pressure of a kick it was that much worse. Glaring at Raccoonfang he wished to spit and curse at her, but alas he was interrupted by the vengeful she-cat above him. "You've ought to be careful Ashstar, history will repeat himself." He snarled, his head snapping to the side with the swipe of the grey she-cats claws.

He knew that his kitten would be present for this, he didn't know if the young tom was watching this or cowering but he didn't care. The young tom wasn't his problem anymore. Rockthorn blearily looked up at Ashstar in blood-drenched eyes, blood making it hard to see along with the fuzzy blackness that pressed in on him at all sides. Regret didn't seem to fill his chest as he wanted or expected it to, nothing seemed to but gratefulness. He'd finally be free of the pressing thoughts and feelings that constantly crushed his organs, the thoughts that clouded his actions with the false feeling of justification.

"Thank you." It was said softly and quietly, a rasp to it as a sneer marked his face. Something for Ashstar to think on. It wasn't a pleasant feeling as teeth closed in around his throat, far from it. He could feel the wet sticky blood that gushed from his throat and soaked it, his head tilting back as his muscles loosened and he fell still. His lungs fighting for oxygen before failing completely. He was gone.

_______________________________________

Rockkit peered from the haystack that hid him, the sight of his father in the jaws of a ferocious grey she-cat. The stench of blood seemed to suffocate the small kitten but regardless of it he didn't understand what was going on, his father had stopped moving; why? Popping his head out of the haystack with his eyes wide he looked at the grey she-cat some more a squeak popping from his throat. Rockthorn hardly spoke to him, he found it hard to talk except for his name and his fathers name.

Now having jumped out of the stack he stumbled forwards, a bend to his ears as he made his way to his un-moving father with questioning in his eyes. "Wuh?" He asked before turning to look at the three cats that smelled of the heather outside the barn, "Da?" He sputtered, looking to Rockthorn again and nudging him this time with no movement to answer him but a cooling body. The young tom's fur bristled with an urking feeling that told him that something was wrong.

Slatethroat watched with a jealous rage burning in his stomach. Both of the other Windclan cats were able to tear away at the rogue. Yet, he held back. Ashstar had made it clear she wanted to do this herself. He was irritated, but simply stood off to the side with bristling fur and unsheathed claws. Everything was over as soon as it had begun. Rockthorn had pretended he was vicious while alive. However, all he had done was get lucky in his escape and slink around attacking cats weaker than him. The rogue tom was no match for the Windclan leader, far from it. His sputtered words were pathetic next to those of Ashstar. It satisfied the warrior to watch Rockthorn be torn apart and have the light die from his eyes. As the kit appeared, Slatethroat barely acknowledged him. The kit of rogue scum was worth nothing to them.

"We should leave." He grunted as soon as they had finished. Their business was done here. There was no reason to stay. Slatethroat's eyes narrowed as he looked at Rockthorn's limp body with contempt. For a brief second, he entertained the idea of burying it. But there was no reason. The former Thunderclan cat deserved to simply rot like the crowfood he had been when alive. The warrior looked at his leader as he waited for her to respond so they could leave and get back to life as normal.