Out In The Cold [Closed For the Dripster]

Mange slipped through the roots of trees and chased down an old squirrel. With a triumphant laugh, he held the squirrel in his jaws. Now dead, it posed no problem if he put it down, he just wanted to hold it. With a purr, he kept trotting ahead, trying to scent anything else worth chasing. Pigeon's training was working very well even if its intimidating to train with her. He hummed as he heard a noise in a nearby bush. A small sparrow was flitting about pecking things from the scuffed ground. A few foxlengths away, it sat there, not noticing him. He was about to hunt it but, he heard the sound of something much bigger coming near.

Sharptooth barrelled through the snow, her breath streaming behind her. "The hell d'you think you're doing?!"

She skidded to a stop, spraying the tom with a mountain of snow. Her breathing was coming in huffs as she bore down on the ratlike creature, her lip lifting in a silent snarl. She paused for a moment, flicking her ears as various birds flittered away, twittering endlessly. "What the hell d'you think you're doing." The warrior sat down heavily in the snow, her ears back.
"Don't you know where you are?" She grunted, her dull green eyes flashing. After a brief pause, she spoke again.
"I should kill you."
She slowly got to her feet again, her breathing finally slowing. "I should kill you, but I'm not that heartless, although not many others could say the same."
She took another step towards Mange, baring the sharp teeth she had been named for. "Instead," She snarled, shoving her muzzle in the small tom's face. "I'll just have to teach you a lesson."
Her hot breath fanned the loner's face as she stood there.

A split second later, Sharptooth whipped out a paw and neatly slipped the tom off of his feet, sending him sprawling in the snow. She put another paw on the small of his back, her claws nicking his skin.
"Too easy."

Mange gripped the squirrel tighter in his jaws. The tom had his food taken as a kit in the alleys and this felt like second nature. Only now, he had more than just himself relying on this food. Large amber eyes only grew larger as he saw the large she-cat send snow his way. Too much snow. He was going to die the one way he feared most. The thin, wispy fur was no match for it and he felt chilled to the bone If it wasn't for the obvious anger and... something else, Sharppaw had, he'd act as friendly as he did the first time they met. Not this time, it seemed. No amount of friendliness could get him out of this situation. As she spoke more and more, his jaws just clamped tighter around the squirrel, blood dripping on the ground. He leaned away from her when she got in his face and let out a yowl when she sent him fully into the snow. He didn't even register the claws, the snow would make his skin feel much worse than any cut soon enough. Spitting the squirrel out, he hissed and kicked out. In the twolegplace, this would leave him with bloodied paws but, he'd be pushed forward enough to escape most situation where cats acknowledged his presence. Now, it just shoved snow about. "Sharppaw, knock it off!" he twisted under her paw, wincing at the slide of claws on his back as he did so, and lashed a paw out against her head, hoping he'd manage to get her at least dazed. He barely had stomach fur, he couldn't stay this way!

le boop ]

OOC: frackle my bad
IC: Sharptooth took a small step back, stunned for a moment that Mange had managed to fight back. She grunted and shook her head back and forth, like a dog trying to rid its fur of fleas. "It's not Sharppaw, it's Sharptooth." She grumbled, sitting down heavily and letting Mange scramble to his feet. "What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to stay away from my territory." As she spoke, the fluffy she-cat began to wonder why she didn't attack the rouge. Simply allowing him to be here was against the code, she was pretty sure, and even if it wasn't...
She couldn't do that. Not to Mange, of all cats. The little rat could barely stand, and he looked so paper-thin and pitiful it made Sharptooth wince to just look at him.
Her eyes traveled towards the squirrel that lay at the tom's feet and she sighed heavily. "Great. Just great. Now I've gotta teach you a lesson, but you've already gone and hunted something and you're so small it hardly seems fair and... ugh. I'm not gonna let you go. I can't let you go. Let's just get this over with... I won't hurt you too much..." Her voice trailed off as Sharptooth's claws unsheathed and she leapt into a battle stance. Despite her ready pose, she was barely standing. If she had to fight Mange, she'd at least defeat him on even grounds. There was no honor in an unfair battle, if one could even call this a battle.
"Face me, stand up straight. Get ready." She grunted, her eyes narrowing. Then, after giving him what she thought was plenty of warning, she charged at the scruffy tom.

Mange took a few steps back when she let him go. He didn't shake the clumps of snow out. The skinny tom crouched low to the ground. He couldn't overpower her and he knew it. She was huge compared to a decent cat. Next to him, well. He'd be dead. "Why did you change your name?" his voice was small and quiet. Loners changed their names for reasons, he didn't want to know what reason caused attention to be brought to her teeth. The tom's tail was raised and bristled. "I-I'm sorry, Sharptooth! This is the only area I can hunt correctly around here! There's too many dogs around in our hunting grounds and twolegs are everywhere."

He looked up at her. While he physically hurt from the cold and the first little attack, the pity hurt just as much. Was he really that pitiful? It was always pity or disgust. Disgust in the eyes of a pet laying on their fence. Pity in Pigeon's eyes when he got cold. Disgust in Sharppaw's first meeting with him. What was wrong with him? Why was he like this? He didn't have one of his happy excuses for it this time. His ears folded back flat against his head as she continued to speak, his eyes trained on her like a hawk. He began backing away again, he didn't care about the squirrel anymore! He'd scavenge on the thunderpaths again if he had to. He just didn't want to die now! Not after he'd finally found someplace to call home. He didn't see a way out of it. He was out in the middle of the territory. He didn't have thunderpaths to guide him here and the path he had followed was too far and too open. She'd just chase him down. Setting his jaw tight, he steadied himself and fought his shivering for a moment. As she charged him he exhaled. The one thing he was good at was being thin. He could get through this, maybe she'd miss some of her hits. Some. The tom reared up and battered her face with unsheathed claws.

Sharptooth snarled as Mange batted at her face, hissing softly as his dirty claws cut her face. So the rat could fight after all. Maybe his defeat wouldn't be too humiliating. A little bit of exaggeration and she could twist this battle into she could tell without too much guilt. She could feel the familiar exciting rush of adrenaline coursing steadily through her veins. No more messing around.
"Rat!" She hissed, barely hiding a fierce grin. With a bellow she swatted at Mange with one large paw, hitting him square in the head. "D'you think I care? Go ahead and starve, just stay outta my territory!"

Mange staggered after the blow. He grit his teeth. "It's not just me! I have a clan to feed." His head swam painfully as he steadied himself again. The tom could feel a small trail of blood running down the side of his face from the strike. He should have gotten Pigeon or Night to come with him. Or Raven. Even the other apprentice Autumn could have made this safer. Gathering his wits, he ran to the side and slashed at her flank.

beat him up a little more and then we can have the chase]

Sharptooth grimaced as Mange attacked her again, lumbering around and trying to swipe at him again. "And you think I don't?" She spat, raising an eyebrow as she tried to catch the fast-moving rouge. "Just because you've got a family doesn't mean you get a... a pass or something. Everyone's got a family." Sharptooth grinned triumphantly as one claw hooked his tail, and gave it a sharp tug, sending him falling back into the snow. With a wicked expression Sharptooth loomed over him, ready to attack again.

Mange shivered and glared back at her as he laid in the snow. Her words only sparked something in him. Everyone already had it. "I just got mine." He felt the sting in his tail and all over from the strikes. He couldn't keep fighting her until he got tired, he needed to choose now. The tom obviously wouldn't beat her. Mange tucked his paws underneath him as if he was settling down and then pushed up knocking his head straight into her jaw. He hoped that would buy him some time...

Rushing forward, he scooped up the squirrel in his jaws and began running. He could see the light from the canopy weakening. Was it getting late or was that dark clouds? He didn't want either. He pushed through the thick brush with some difficulty. His legs were getting colder and he felt more clumsy as he stumbled a few times.

Sharptooth recoiled as Mange's head connected with her jaw, yelping. He was strong- for a street rat, that is -and she was almost certain she'd end up with a bruise. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and charged after the strange rouge. "Get back here!" She grunted, her hot breath streaming behind her and leaving a trail of mist in her wake.

The sky grew darker and the wind began to bend the snow covered branches. The wind pushed at the trunks, covering one side in snow and came in intervals that seemed to have too short of a pause between the onslaughts. Snow whipped faces and tore whatever remained of leaves off trees.

Mange looked over his shoulder at the large cat chasing him and felt dread pooling in his stomach. His limbs were beginning to feel clumsy and the bursts of wind chilled him to the bone. In his thought, he tripped over a root and scrambled to stand again.

Wind grew to loud wails as the sky darkened further, dusk approaching soon.

Timeskip

The storm progressed as the two cats ran through the forest, fighting when they met until Mange would find another way of escape. The tom was running after an escape right now, legs chilled beyond belief after he broke a small frozen pool and fell belly deep into it. He struggled to stand after that and his gait was sloppy now, only managing to get a few foxlengths away from Sharptooth. The tom shivered violently and stumbled, clenching the now ragged squirrel as a way to push through the burning in his paws.

ooc: She can catch him now and then they'll look for shelter. I was thinking something like this:

Spoiler:

Sharptooth struggled through the snow, breathing heavily. Her eyes were slits as she searched for Mange, a hint of desperation in her gaze. She didn't hate the little weasel, and she didn't think she'd be able to forgive herself if he died on her territory.
Suddenly, the ground seemed to disappear from underneath the Thunderclan warrior's large paws, sending her sprawling into the snow. A loud crack told her that something had broken. A throbbing sensation told her it was her right front leg.
Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Sharptooth pushed herself into a sitting position. "Mange!" She bellowed, desperation and fear driving her forward. Sharptooth limped along, finally spotting the miserable-looking creature foxlengths ahead. She quietly approached him and grabbed his scruff, pulling him wordlessly after her. "Stop struggling. We need to find shelter!" She grunted, her ears flat as the storm grew worse. They seemed to be in the heart of it, and Sharptooth felt a shiver run through her bones as the bitter wind and unforgiving snow found their way through her thick fur. If they didn't find shelter soon, they'd both die, buried in snow until Newleaf.

The tom let her drag him along for a moment, he felt miserable, as if his paws would fall off soon. He didn't even want to move anymore. Squinting in the snow, he caught a scent of fox. It was stale, almost non-existent. Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it? With his nose practically buried in the snow, he followed the scent, shivering violently the whole way. Lifting his head, he rubbed the snow off his bare muzzle with his paw and looked back at the she-cat with worry in his eyes. Mange crouched in the snow for a moment, fighting off the growing urge to just lay there and give up. Forcing himself back up, he blearily stumbled along again. Up ahead, a tree was leaning at an odd angle, the roots had torn up the dirt, leaving a large gash in the ground beneath them. The tom dropped the snow-coated squirrel to speak. "Over h-here!" he yowled over the wind, his tongue felt thick and heavy. Talking took way too much effort now. He remembered the limp and picked up the fresh-kill again, running back to her, letting her lean on him. His ears pressed tightly into his head as he tried to keep the snow out and he didn't dare look at his paws after all this. They were raw for sure. Raw, sensitive and he was bleeding from a lashed paw pad.

The last few moments in the blizzard were a blur. Sharptooth remembered struggling through the snow, leaning on Mange. She remembered seeing the shelter, little more than a dent in the ground. Crawling through the narrow entrance had revealed a large antechamber that Sharptooth had all but filled up.

Now she was curled in the darkness, nursing her wound and staring up at the blank white wall the blizzard had become. "Mange." She croaked, her ears twitching. "We're going to die."