Battle of the Ryes (closed)

Letting out a yawn, Ryecloud arrived near the Thunderpath border, immediately squinting at the overwhelming scent. The crippled tom had been given the task to scent the horrible smelling border, though he knew why he'd been sent to do it; there was never any trouble at the Thunderpath. No at ever dared to step onto the black path that the monsters walked on, so to him, patrolling the border was almost a waste of time, but alas, he wasn't going to disobey orders and here he was. Well, plus the fact that he wasn't like other cats made Brindlewhisker assign him to less important patrols that would need physical strength or brains.

Limping along the edge of the tall grass, the grey and white tom emerged from the shelter and slowly made his way closer to the impending path, the sights and scents almost too much for him. 'Where in StarClan's name even is the border?' the disfigured tom thought to himself as he stood right next to the Thunderpath, sniffing around for any previous scent indicators.

His paws heavy and falling to the ground without regard for how much noise he was making, Ryeheart walked alongside the Thunderpath, re-marking the border slowly as he went.  He was on a solo patrol along the full length of the Thunderpath, and he couldn't say he was too happy about it.  Now-a-days though...there wasn't much he could say that made him happy to begin with.  It was all a mumbled blur of voices and orders, of patrol after patrol, catch after endless catch.  His thoughts wandered uncontrolled, constantly wondering and speculating about the little lives he had dumped beyond the border of his home.  Willowpetal's kits...his kits.  Are they okay?  What do they look like now that they've grown...they would probably be apprenticed by now.  Who are their mentors?  Are they happy...do they miss their mom?  Their...their dad?  The ginger tabby tom's body flinched, and he continued walking in forlorn silence.  After marking another spot, the tom looked up to see a WindClan cat across the rancid black path.  Flicking his ears, Ryeheart was about to move along when he noticed that...he wasn't marking.  He was just sniffing the air, like a hunter would do while searching for prey.  Instantly suspicious, the young warrior unsheathed his claws and retreated behind a nearby bush to watch.  If he puts one paw across the border...

Still sniffing the air for any familiar WindClan scents, Ryecloud failed to find any as he continued to slowly walk along the edge of the Thunderpath. Having one leg completely useless and not very good at balance in general, the tom wobbled onto the dark path, quickly trying to regain his footing. Once he stabilized himself, he looked down, memorized by the weird surface. While most cats would've probably jumped off by now, he forgot everything that had been told to him about the dangerous path and border, and instead leaned down to sniff if, which wasn't a very good idea, for when he got closer to it, the stench was even worse, which made him draw back his head and wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Ryeheart watched intently, his eyes slowly narrowing into threatening slits, as the gray and white WindClan tom took a step onto the Thunderpath and sniffed it, as if searching for a lost scent trail.  From the angle he was at he did not notice the warrior's apparent disability, and the distance between the two didn't help matters either.  Even if he had known though that this cat had a crippled leg...he still would've done what he was about to do.  Leaping out of the bushes, the thick fur along Ryeheart's spine and neck fluffed up aggressively as he skidded to a halt at the edge of the stinking path, yowling a warning to this suspicious character.  "OY, YOU!  Step back across the border, now!"  His unsheathed claws digging into the oily grass beneath his paws, the ginger tabby tom crouched down and hissed; "This is ShadowClan land, move along!"

Hearing some cat yell, Ryecloud lifted his head and looked around. He quickly spotted an angry looking tom, just a few foxlengths away from him, across the Thunderpath. Why was this cat so mad? It wasn't like the Thunderpath was actually anyone's territory, seeing that it was in the middle of both borders. Remembering that he'd been told to not affiliate himself with other clan cats, especially ones who seemed like they wanted to start a fight, he internally shrugged and continued to limp along the edge of the dark grey path, ignoring the tom who seemed to be overreacting a bit.

What the... Was this tom deaf?  Or daft?  The way the gray and white WindClan tom continued his little stroll along the Thunderpath, crossing his own border line, made Ryeheart even more angry, but also a little confused.  Didn't WindClan warn their cats about the dangers of the Thunderpath?!  Despite this, the ginger tabby tom crouched down, gripped the edge of the path with his sharpened claws, and once he made sure the coast was clear launched himself across the Thunderpath and at the tom, paws outstretched to tackle him.  He was on patrol, it was his duty to make sure no cat intruded on ShadowClan territory, and this tom had come close enough for comfort.  Bowling over the warrior, Ryeheart pinned him to the ground and hissed; "Do I have your attention now?"

Ryeheart used Jumping Strike, costing 20 SP and dealing 10 damage

Ryeheart
45/45
140/160

Ryecloud
45/55
180/180

Not expecting the approaching cat to suddenly lash out like that, Ryecloud let of a surprised shriek. Being knocked to the ground, the crippled tom laid under the ShadowClan's grasp and their eyes locked. "You crazy?" he yowled, baring his teeth and letting out a hiss. With him not being the strongest cat, plus him having a useless leg, he was already at a huge disadvantage, and seeing that this was his first real battle, he began to panic. What in StarClan's name was he supposed to do? This cat, who ever he was, was clearly much stronger than him.

Thinking as fast as his racing mind could think, Ryecloud decided to go with his gut, whatever that might do for him.

Scrunching up his single, useful, hind leg, the tom pushed it upwards with all his might, extending his claws and scraping it against his opponent's soft underbelly. Once he felt even the slightest bit of weight lift from him, he took the chance to break free and scrambled away from the angry cat, his heart racing and fur standing on end. Eyes wide, the crooked cat stood a foxlength or so away from his attacker, completely baffled as to what he'd done wrong.

Ryecloud used Belly Rake, costing 10 SP and dealing -12 HP.

Ryecloud:
HP: 45/55
SP: 170/180

Ryeheart:
HP: 33/45
SP: 140/160

Ryeheart winced and bit back a painful hiss as the WindClan tom raked his belly with a back paw, leaving bloody - but shallow - scrapes under his fur.  He released his grip slightly, and the warrior took no time to take advantage of that, slipping out from under his claws as quick as a lizard.  Jumping back, the ginger tabby tom fluffed out his fur and growled, staring down the gray and white tom from where he stood now, on the bank of the Thunderpath.  He could feel the buffeting wind from a passing monster across his back, and chocked on the rancid scent.  "Not as crazy as you!  Why were you standing in the middle of the Thunderpath?!"  How idiotic was this tom?  For all fate knew, Ryeheart pushing him off the road could've saved him from that monster that just passed by!  Now was not the time though for a lecture; this tom needed to leave.  He was back across the scent markers now, but Ryeheart wouldn't be content until he could see his tail bobbing as he raced back into the depths of the moor.  "Get out of here, intruder!  Go back to your rabbit munching friends!"  With a low hiss, Ryeheart couched down in a threatening stance, challenging the tom to either run away now, or to stay and fight...if he dared.

Listening to the tom snap at him, Ryecloud stood where he was, his legs trembling and blood dripping from his shoulders where the other cat had sunken his claws down into. What in StarClan's name had he done wrong? He'd just tried to ignore the ShadowClan cat, had he really crossed that much of the path? No... he had to be wrong. There was no way that he'd been so clueless. He may not have been the brightest cat, but he knew the borders, so this cat must have been overreacting. Right?

Watching as Ryeheart crouched down as if he was going to attack again, the crippled tom wasn't about to stick around to find out what was going to happen next.

Scrambling backwards, Ryecloud whipped around and raced as fast as his three legs would carry him through the open territory. Breathing heavily and tripping every few steps, tears streamed down his face as he headed back to camp. He couldn't take the life of a warrior anymore; it was just too much for the lame tom. He was useless, a slow idiot. No matter how much his clanmates tried to hide their pity for him, there was nothing anyone could do for him and he had to somehow put an end to this pathetic and stressful life.