Deathmatch (Without the death) [Closed]

His paws barely touched the ground as he raced towards the Riverclan border. The warrior could not count the times he had padded this exact same route. A hatred for Riverclan that had stemmed from his father's own had stuck with Slatethroat for moons. He had personally never really dealt with the water-logged warriors, save for the one time as an apprentice he'd attacked one of their for border crossing. Now, he longed for another patrol to come by. A lust for battle had been tugging at him since Talonpaw had come back from a confrontation of his own. There was a bit of jealousy in the grey and white tom that he would never admit to. Once he saw the familiar scenery and tasted the tang of the water on the air, Slatethroat slowed. At his heels were both of his apprentices. For the most part, they had been trained separately so far. However, given that their training would soon be up, he figured it would be a decent time to patrol with both. And there was no harm in checking the border with Fishclan as well.

"What do you smell?" He asked, looking over the pair of younger cats. His eyes rested on Dovepaw. Slatethroat would be lying if he said he would not miss their training sessions together. The stunning she-cat had become a constant in his life since being assigned as his apprentice. He had thanked both Ashstar and Starclan countless times over for the opportunity to be around her. Realizing how much he was getting caught up in thoughts of her again, the warrior frowned as he looked at his other trainee. Talonpaw had done well. The young tom's ferocity and spirit was something his mentor appreciated. But they had never gotten along as well as he had with Dovepaw. In fact, the two of them had butted heads on several occasion. Regardless, Talonpaw would be missed as an apprentice as well. The prospect of both being warriors made his chest leap. Soon, the product of his training would be put on display for the clan. Slatethroat had trained up the next line of great Windclan warriors, and he couldn't wait for every clan to know it.

Talonpaw frowned, his nose turning up in disgust. "Fish," he mewed. The tom's chest was still sore from the battle he had at the ShadowClan border, but Talonpaw didn't let that phase him. His head still ached sometimes, and the nightmares still didnt stop. Talonpaw would never talk about this though; it was weak. The last thing he ever wanted to feel again was weak. He looked up at his mentor. Slatethroat. He never resented another cat so much, but he never respected one so much either. He saw the way the warrior watched Dovepaw. There was no friendly bond of apprentice and mentor in those eyes. The tom spat on the ground at the thought of it. He played it off as being because of the RiverClan smell. "I smell some fish cats," he repeated," some ugly, dumb, smelly, fish cats."

"And I smell the foul stench of incestuous cowards who seem like they roll in their own urine for fun." Came the scornful call in return to Talonpaw's words.

Several tail lengths away, on the other side of the Gorge, Splashwillow was settled rather close to the weeping wound in the Earth, a look of disinterest evident upon her face as the small WindClan patrol came into view, talking about how 'foul-smelling' RiverClan cats apparently were. As if. There was nothing worse than the foul scent of stale rabbit dung and dried grass that WindClanners carried around. Splashwillow threw a passive, uninterested glare at Slatethroat and Talonpaw as she remained perched at her side of the Gorge, her relaxed figure showing just how relaxed unbothered she was. She had come across WindClan cats around the Gorge several times before- and each time they had simply talked big game before turning and trudging home with their tails dragging instead of actually doing anything.

"Don't forget the smell of innocent blood," another voice added, growing louder as Rainstorm approached his relaxed clanmate.

The tom never held any remorse for WindClan. The only reason he would treat them kindly was gone. None of them even wept for Hazefur, even her mate, Smokepelt. With a slight hiss in his throat, he took a seat beside Splashwillow and nodded in respect. WindClan was dishonourable even within their own ranks. They deserved no kindness from anyone, let alone the clan they so belligerently antagonised so often.

"Go back to the dirt place you call a camp, your border is safe. Unlike you rats, RiverClan cats don't needlessly attack other clans." The warrior scoffed and fell into a more comfortable position akin to the she-cat beside him.

Dovepaw followed the handsome tom, her muscles—once aching with protest—now gliding smoothly beneath her thick pelt. She had grown over the past six moons; her fur, though still messy because she was unable to figure out how to correctly groom herself, had become sleeker. She'd lost most traces of kithood, though some small signs still lingered.

"Fish," the apprentice agreed as she stood side-by-side with Talonpaw, letting out a low growl. Frowning, she watched her denmate spit, spew out curses. Surprised by his enthusiasm, she watched, bewildered, and looked instinctively back up to Slatethroat, a question of what they would be doing. She was older now, and so was Talonpaw, and they were sure to become warriors soon. Fighting? she thought hopefully, scoring shallow marks into the tallgrass-covered earth. Fighting was her favorite, better than just a hunt or patrol, and she was eager to show Talonpaw what she'd learned.

A voice, a strange, smoother sound that Dovepaw wasn't used to bled into her ears and the pretty she whipped around, letting out a snarl at the sight of the other cats. Her hackles raised and she tensed, bright blue eyes narrowed. "I don't know," the young cat replied gratingly, "I think the smell of your fish-brains scattered on the ground from your defeat seems to be overpowering my senses right now—" Mocking them, she looked around, confused. "I just can't seem to scent anything else." It was the first time she was engaging in this—an insult battle, that is—and somehow it was exciting. She was young, and couldn't sense the actual danger. To her, it was fun.

Mallowpaw hadn't expected anything special out of this patrol, sticking close to he fellow clanmates as they raced throughout the borderlands. His mentor had often mentioned to him how rare it was to meet with WindClan up close. The rapid waters protected the vastness of their border with the rabbit-eaters, the harsh currents only something a trained RiverClan cat had hope to survive in. It was dangerous. According to the elders, even elders had died there before. Closer to fortress though, he'd heard some mishaps happened. He's never thought it'd occur so early on in his training though.

What should he say? What to do? The tom puffed his fur out best he could, aim ing to appear just as fearsome as those near him, the ones he looked up to. "Oh, yeah? I could have sworn that was stench of rabbit dung you - you scrawny dirt-heads!" He near spit a little when he flung the words out. Alright. Maybe insults weren't his strong point. Mallowpaw bared his teeth and leaned low, staring down Dovepaw. "J-just scram before we tear your pelts off!"

"I'd say you're both right." He quickly acknowledged his apprentices with a pleased smirk at both of their responses. The Windclan tom's pelt bristled as his nose wrinkled up at the overpowering stench as it came closer. A Riverclan patrol. For moons, since his run in with the two cat patrol as an apprentice, he had longed for this moment. There they stood, as foul and awful as everything he had ever seen or heard. A lifetime of hatred towards the water-treading cats seemed to fire the adrenaline through his veins. The fact that Dovepaw was there only made things worse. If any of the fish-brained idiots tried to touch her, he would rip their throat out. At first it had only been one cat, but a couple more appeared not long after. They were evenly matched in size, of skill he was unsure.

His eyes flickered to Rainstorm as he spoke and a growl rose from his chest, "Clearly our borders are not safe when we have you water-logged mouse-brains skulking around them. I'd rather not leave you here unsupervised." Slatethroat locked eyes with the older warrior and took a couple steps closer to the border as he spoke. He flicked his tail towards the apprentices as if motioning them forwards too, even though it wasn't his intention. There was no way he would turn and skulk back to his den when enemy cats stood so close to his land. Slatethroat didn't tear his eyes away from the Riverclan tom as he waited for one of them to move in response. If anything unfavorable happened, the grey and white warrior was prepared to attack without restraint. He already knew that the cat before him would be his.

Talonpaw nodded at his mentor's comments before turning to the obvious apprentice of the group." Nice comeback," he mewed sarcastically," You new to this? Or are all RiverClan cats as braindead as the fish they eat?" A wicked smile appeared on his face. He loved this. The exhilaration of flirting with danger was something he always liked. "Okay, which one of you water-bellied mud suckers wants to meet StarClan first? Don't be too put down if you're not picked first, though. I'll make sure you're all reunited with each other soon enough." The tom leaned low as he bared his fangs.

"Personally, I'm surprised StarClan lets you in to their borders. You're not worthy of being called cats!" The tom laughed to himself, his icy eyes burning with anticipation. Two warriors, he thought, One apprentice. I should be able to handle a warrior. Or, better yet, I can embarrass this wet-eared apprentice.

He looked over to Dovepaw, in a similar state of mind. She can get the apprentice, he decided, she's never been in a serious fight before. Talonpaw unsheathed his claws, his fur bristled and his hackles raised. He was ready for this to begin.

Steam wrote:

OOC: Oh please oh please oh please let us have another round of flaming. This is always the best part of fights

IC: The wind blew with intensity as tensions rised between the two clusters of cats.

ooc) don't post this stuff. It disrupted posting order/did nothing for the topic, so I'm going to delete it after I post this. Next time don't post stuff like this unless you need to bump a topic- so consider this a light warning my dude.


The sound of Rainstorm's smooth voice chiming in shortly after her comment made Splashwillow turn to face the older tom, but to her relief he seemed more intent in joining in the commotion rather than stopping the bickering. A soft chirp of greeting escaped her mouth as the older Warrior settled down next to her, although she found herself expelling another greeting as she caught sight of Mallowpaw following close behind. Redirecting her attention to the somewhat boring insults being spewed from the party, she found herself blinking instead of joining in on the verbal sparring, although one of the apprentice's words caught her attention.

Splashwillow tilted her head at Talonpaw, mild amusement evident in the condescending glare she threw at the WindClan apprentice, an audible scoff echoing across the Gorge as the tom spoke. For as word-vomiting eager as he seemed for a fight, he still held himself with as much confidence as a meek, weakly kit- it wouldn't take much at all. She let her fur remain smooth and unruffled as she continued to stare at the patrol with little interest before finally clicking her tongue in mock disappointment. "Odd to hear a cowardly heathen speak of StarClan like they actually worship them- did your parents teach you that StarClan would forgive your filthy apprentice-maiming Clan, or did the disease and inbreeding completely erase that fact from their pitifully small minds?" Splashwillow finally questioned, disdain dripping heavily from the sharp question as her forepaw moved to pat softly at the gritty earth in front of her in something akin to boredom. Was WindClan seriously still instilling the belief that their meager Clan could take on RiverClan, despite their humiliating defeat, upon their apprentices?

"However perhaps StarClan will take mercy on you after I gut you," Splashwillow finally conceded, the playful glint fading from her eyes as she rose to her paws beside Rainstorm and Mallowpaw, "I've heard they can be quite forgiving when they hear the anguished screams of a poorly trained apprentices trying to take on larger, smarter, and more skillful opponents and failing miserably." The calico continued breezily, her strong muscles flexing in anticipation underneath her thick, glossy fur. It had been much too long since she had engaged in any sort of fight- perhaps the rush of adrenaline would help soothe her underlying wounds that were raw from Sparkwillow's untimely death.

The dusty warrior's eyes narrowed as another apprentice joined their ranks. The little girl had quite the nerve. "Defeat? I quite recall RiverClan beating your clan into the dirt," he scoffed to Dovepaw. It was almost funny, watching the she-cat try to pretend their clan was noble and strong.

While the she-cat seemed harmless in most regards besides her impetuous tongue, the two toms seemed to carry a bigger threat. Before he could relax his head, the warrior and apprentice stepped forward. Rainstorm's claws slowly slid out from their sheaths and the fur on his neck began to rise. Starting the fight would only bring scolding on his part, so he held his position. Defending, on the other hand, well he saw no harm in that. Protecting his clanmates and territory from conceited enemies would earn his praise, not punishment.

Flicking his tail at the aggravated Splashwillow and the defensive Mallowpaw, he gestured for them to hold still. If this patrol wanted a fight, they would have to come to them. With a cold expression, he looked at Slatethroat. Something about this warrior was off-putting, but Rainstorm couldn't figure out why. "You should really teach your apprentice to speak more wisely. He might start something all of you will come to regret. Didn't your mothers teach you better? Or were they too busy mating their fathers and attacking innocents to teach their kits manners?" His tail held still in front of the calico beside while his green eyes trailed over the three moor-runners.

Anger rushed through Dovepaw and she raised her hackles in warning, instinctively following the flick of her mentor's tail and stepping closer to him. Her whole body was tensed, excitement buzzing in the air. Would this be her first real fight? She would very much like to bash their heads in—

Her eyes swooped over the apprentice and softened a little. He was cute. His attempt at insults was funny, and he even looked sort of nice—

Again, she stopped her thoughts. There were more important things to be thought about. And anyway, as Slatethroat had taught her, when fighting you had to be heartless. The enemies were not cats. The enemies were simply obstacles that must be overcome. At least she had something going for her: looks. She was pretty and at first glance appeared to be harmless. This, she knew, could be used to her advantage. Moons of training for fighting had been taken seriously. Dovepaw was many things, but a mousebrain was not one of them.

Biting back a stinging insult, the apprentice waited. She had to keep up this innocent, harmless demeanor, even if it killed her.

Surprise is a cat's worst enemy.

ooc: aka no fun allowed

bic:

He tried his best to keep his stern appearance. Honest-to-StarClan, he did. But he couldn't help but feel the warmth rush under his pelt and fill his cheeks. This elder apprentice, the WindClan mouse-for-brains, whatever his name was, clearly had the far sharper tongue than he did. But in the end, words didn't matter much at all, did they? It was actions that really showed what kind of warrior you were... Or what kind of warrior he was going to be, anyways.

Mallowpaw leaned down lower, lashing his tail out and continuing to stare down the closest cat to him. Smaller than him. He could use that to his advantage. A cream-colored pelt that near blended in with the moor behind her, soft, and fluffy - and ... and ...

The tom shook his head. For a moment, it felt like there were bees in his brain. He focused again, catching her sweet blue eyes. They sorta reminded him of the moonlight on the river and -

... Fox-dung.

Alright. She was really, really pretty. But that wasn't going to stop him any!

"They're all hiss and no bite," he muttered under his breath, flexing his claws.

Bile rose in Slatethroat's throat as the opposing warrior mentioned his mother. Hazefur's death was still fresh in his mind. The grey and white tom had not given himself the chance to grieve; it still plagued him. His tail lashed angrily and his claws dug into the earth below. This Riverclan cat would not be allowed to get away with this. The fish-breaths had insulted him and his clan enough, they had stepped on Windclan far too many times. There was a brief moment in which he considered Ashstar's words on there being a 'time and place for fighting', but it was almost instantly thrown out the window. Slatethroat launched himself forwards over the border and straight onto Rainstorm. His claws dug into the dampened fur without any of the restraint he had practiced often with his apprentices.

A snarl rose up from his chest as he freely allowed his claws to sink into enemy flesh. The stench of fish caused his nose to wrinkle, but he ignored it and moved his maw to the older tom's ear, "I'll show you what my mother taught me. When you get to Starclan, you can tell Hazefur that Slatethroat sent you." The tangy smell of blood drove him further and he clung onto Rainstorm's back. Claws knotted into the fur. This would be his moment. No Riverclan scum was going to insult his family or his clan again. He would not allow that to happen. With a quick yowl, he called the apprentices to battle. Both Talonpaw and Dovepaw had been trained specifically for this, the enemy patrol would not be leaving without scars.

Slatethroat used leap and hold on Rainstorm, dealing 11 damage and using 10 stamina. Rainstorm is held for 2 turns.

Slatethroat
60/60
190/200

Rainstorm
69/80
240/240

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 4

Talonpaw flinched as Slatethroat pounced on the RiverClan tom. His heart raced even faster than it had already been as the apprentice realized that they were actually going to fight. While he had seen it coming, a small part within the tom never actually expected this all to come to blows. He immediately lowered, his eyes darting between the opponents in front of him. He didn't worry about the one Slatethroat had attacked; his mentor wouldn't need any help. He immediately seized up the RiverClan apprentice and charged to attack. He delighted in knowing that his claws would soon be feeling fish-cat flesh.

Talonpaw used Front Paw Strike on Mallowpaw, dealing 6 damage and costing 10 stamina

Slatethroat
60/60 HP
190/200 SP

Rainstorm
69/80 HP
240/240 SP

Talonpaw
20/20 HP
70/80 SP

Mallowpaw
14/20 HP
80/80 SP