Quail beats Wolf beats Briar

Wolfpaw was bored. Nobody ever approached him- for good reason, too. He had to get out. He identified one of the warriors guarding him and swallowed before asking, "Er... Quailfeather? Can I go to the Dirtplace?"

Despite everyone's initial panic at the apparently dangerous or even murderous tendencies of the apprentice she was supposed to guard, Quailfeather hadn't had any trouble with him so far. He seemed unstable, certainly, but what could an apprentice even do? She'd much rather be out hunting or training Lionpaw than guarding Wolfpaw, but as a senior warrior, she would be on rotation for the rest of the moon until the tom proved his innocence. Lost in thought, staring into space, the gray speckled she-cat gave a start as the apprentice spoke up. He didn't talk that often. "Dirtplace? Um, sure. Go ahead. But don't take too long," she added as an afterthought, then watched him go. She wouldn't follow him- even dangerous traitors deserved their privacy

Wolfpaw nodded gratefully, then turned and padded towards it. He didn't want to seem too eager. As soon as he reached the Dirtplace and made sure he was alone, he ran. Oh, how he wanted to stretch his legs, and it felt so good to have the wind in his fur again! The moor was near empty, with maybe a cat or two out.

OOC: In comes Briarpaw

Briarpaw was running along the breeze, bouncing around.  When seeing Wolfpaw, she mewed, "What are you doing out of camp?  I thought Ashstar demoted you."

Wolfpaw flicked his tail. "I'm a Windclan cat. It's killing me not to run. Besides, it's not like I'm hurting anything." He felt the familiar tingling. The lust for blood, the satisfying of killing... It called him again. And he let go. He growled and pounced on her angrily as he unsheathed his claws. Now... Now this cat was one who should die. Nobody disrespected him like that! He used his sharp teeth to bite down on her neck, using all the pressure he could to break it, let her life drain. That would show her just how powerful he was. As the body went limp, he rolled off and stood over it at full height with no feeling of regret or remorse. Just an annoyed satisfaction. "Pathetic weakling." Wolfpaw looked back down. No. This was horrible. First, he attacked someone, now he KILLED them! His heart sank as he heard the sound behind him, the sound of a cat's footsteps. Reluctantly, he turned towards it to see the silhouette of a cat running towards him.

Briarpaw didn't even notice as Wolfpaw pounced and bit on her neck. She gasped, and her eyes went dull. The apprentice was dead.

Quailfeather was starting to get uneasy as she waited. Had Wolfpaw really gone to the Dirtplace? What if he was just trying to run away? What if...? Maybe the dangerous apprentice had just been biding his time. With a spike of alarm overtaking her calm, the senior warrior ran after her charge's scent, which didn't stop at the Dirtplace but instead continued onwards. Her feeling of dread only grew as she followed the trail, running even faster now. She stopped in her tracks, however, when she finally found the tom. Even as he came into view, she saw him sink his fangs into Briarpaw's neck, letting her body drop to the ground. Dead.

She didn't even give herself a moment to comprehend her horrible mistake. There would be time for guilt later. But now.... "Murderer!" the gray speckled she-cat screeched in fury, leaping from where she stood onto Wolfpaw's deceptively small form. She easily bowled the apprentice over, pinning him to the ground with her full weight. "You miserable excuse for a WindClan cat! You disgusting piece of crowfood! Ashstar gave you leniency, and this is what you do?!" Quailfeather's sharp claws dug into his flesh, her rage-filled eyes glaring into his, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. "I ought to kill you right now, you fox-heart! Just like a piece of prey, just like what you did to her...." Blood welled up from his gray fur where her claws pierced through it, but she couldn't stop. He was no apprentice, not even a Clan cat. He was a rogue! A murderer.

Wolfpaw's paws scrabbled on the ground as she dug her claws into him. "I- I- I- I- I was just running but then I don't even know, please don't kill me, please!" He begged. He tried to pull himself away and there was genuine fear in his eyes. "I'll never do it again,
just let me live! I'll live like a kit for the rest of my life, just don't kill me!" He pleaded.

Rage consumed her. There was fire in her veins. Her eyes burned into his, absolute white-hot rage threatening to overboil. "Give me one good reason not to slaughter you like prey for what you've done," she seethed, claws digging deeper. However, one glance back towards camp, where Ashstar likely rested in her den, and she became herself again. Was she really about to kill a cat, as lowlife as he was? The whole scenario washed down on her again, a flood of emotions finally boiling down to a weary disgust. Her blue eyes went from flame-hot rage to ice-cold fury. "Fine," Quailfeather snarled, sheathing her claws and flinging him away from her. "I'll let you escape with your miserable life. But just remember that I could have, should have, killed you. And if I ever see you on WindClan territory again, I'll finish the job. Understand?"

"Y- Yes, Quailfeather!" He stumbled and ran, for his life. He was vaguely aware of what he was leaving behind. Softpaw, Thistlekit, Twistedtail, Eveningpaw and Blizzardpaw, the whole Clan. They're better off without me.

As Wolfpaw raced off, hopefully for good, Quailfeather finally let her shoulders slump. She padded unevenly over to where Briarpaw's body lay, cold and stiff. The spirit that had twinkled in her eyes was gone, leaving them empty and devoid of light. An apprentice, dead.... And it was all her fault. She had let him go. On her watch he'd murdered a Clan cat... she could have stopped him. As the gray rogue disappeared out of sight, a few silent sobs racked the senior warrior's body.