Nothing Lasts. [Closed]

Boarpaw felt guilty about Sharptooth's pain. It was nice out, the sun warmed his pelt and there weren't many clouds in the sky. He peered into the nursery and spotted the she-cat. "Sharptooth? Do you want to go on a patrol? Or, just get out of camp for a bit? It's nice out and that den must be stuffy..." He could at least offer her his time as compensation. It was only fair.

Sharptooth's leg was cramping constantly- she knew she needed to stretch, but she had a kit to care for. Still, the fluffy she-cat had to resist the urge to spring to her feet when Flynn- er, Boarpaw, invited her on a patrol. Instead, the tabby she-cat stretched and slowly stood, giving Petalkit a gentle nudge. The other queens would take care of her youngest daughter. "Of course, Boarpaw. It'll be nice to get out of the nursery for a while." She purred, ducking out of the nursery and taking a deep breath of fresh air.

He smiled and dipped his head, leading the way out the camp at a slightly slower pace than he was used to. The tom wasn't going to leave her behind. Snow was melting all around them, it was practically rain made by the trees. He'd never seen a spring or felt it's warm rays on his pelt. He couldn't imagine it before, just like he couldn't imagine being in a place he was happy and surrounded by others. Or, a reason to live. That was new too, it was not a primal need to survive anymore. Something to genuinely enjoy doing every day. "Sorry about you're leg, by the way, I wish it had been me instead. You were just doing your job, you didn't deserve to get hurt."

Sharptooth trailed behind Boarpaw, grateful for his slower pace. Although she was still limping, she was getting much better at placing her foot just so, so it didn't hurt. The large fluffy she-cat rolled her shoulders as rays of sunlight hit her pelt, filtering through the trees. Newleaf at last- and not a moment too soon. The Fresh-Kill pile was pitiful these days, and she could barely manage to sustain one kit. It was a blessing her litter had been so small. Sharptooth's ears pricked as Boarpaw spoke, and she grinned. "Don't be sorry- it was my fault, anyway. You said you needed food, and it was just one piece of prey. You saved my life out there, finding that shelter and all. I'm glad you decided to stay in Thunderclan with me."

Nothing lasts.

Pigeon trudged through the foliage, nose to the ground as she struggled to find any trace of her apprentice. She'd found a collapsed den riddled with his scent, and... another cat's as well. She didn't smell any hint of death so, he was still alive. Or, he'd at least made it out of that den. She hadn't slept in a while, another failed litter with one of the flea-pelts of the twolegplace. All stillborn, again. Growling, she clawed the muddy ground and continued. The air brought a fresher wave of Mange's scent to her and she blinked in disbelief. He was still in the territory and hadn't been shredded to bits! So, the mutt could hold his own? She'd need to fix that if she was getting him back home. His real home. With his idiot mother who was always paranoid. But, there was that scent again... Flicking her ear, she crept forward, hiding in the young underbrush as she grew closer.

It's for the best.
_____________

I won't stay here.

Boarpaw looked back at her and smiled. "Yeah, I'm glad I stayed as well. Though,
you can't fault me for feeling bad about your leg. You've got to be a parent while being injured,
kits don't seem like the careful type." He flicked his ear, freezing for a moment. Sharp eyes darted around and he was locked on a scent he never thought he'd find again. It didn't take a heartbeat for him to get a faceful of dust as Pigeon pounced on him and shoved his head to the ground. He coughed as it flooded his lungs and struggled underneath the she-cat. "Pigeon! Wh-... what are you doing here?" he struggled to say while holding back his coughing. The tom could feel her claws digging into his head, pierced through skin already.

I won't stay there.
___________

"Staying, huh?" Her voice was gentle for a moment and it didn't match the crooked grin on her face. She lowered her muzzle to his ear. "STAYING WHERE,
MANGE?!" Pigeon smirked at the jerk her sudden yell got from him. Pathetic. At least she still had some hold on him. She wasn't losing her chance to go home. Her mother had told her to not come back without him or she'd be chased away. Even if she dragged him back unconscious, she would. He was too far gone to take willingly now. "Mange, we have to go home. We need to. Your mother wants you back."


I'll let you know when she can die, she's got some stuff to say first ;)]

Sharptooth's eyes widened and she stepped back, rolling into the foliage silently. Who was that? The fluffy she-cat's hackles began to rise as she crouched in the undergrowth, her paws working the soft soil as the stranger held Boarpaw down. She had to act, now. With a pained grunt Sharptooth flung herself forward, knocking pigeon off of Boarpaw and landing on top of her, her heavy paws on the cream she-cat's shoulders. Her foreleg twinged painfully, but Sharptooth didn't care. A rouge in her territory, attacking her clanmate. "His name's not Mange." She spoke through gritted teeth, her claws digging into Pigeon's shoulders.

Pigeon grunted as she was tackled off of the tom, glaring up at the large she-cat. She couldn't strike like this, pinned to the ground. Or... could she? "He will always be Mange until he come back home to be a kittypet. Otherwise, he deserves a name that suits him. Out here, he's nothing but a mangey little rat! He'll stay that way until he goes home!" She flicked her ear, noticing how the weight of the other she-cat wasn't even. Was something wrong with her leg? She might as well try it out. Twisting sharply, she shoved the shoulder under Sharptooth's injured leg up, fully intending to cause her pain. She wasn't ready for the next thing that would happen.

________

Boarpaw staggered and coughed as he stood up. His ears pressed to his head in response to Pigeon's words. However, when she tried to further hurt Sharptooth's leg, he didn't even have to think about what he was doing. With a growl, he ran over. Grasping Pigeon's foreleg in his jaws, he held her shoulder with a paw. "I'm not going back there! My mother threw me out, that's not a home. Get out of here!"

"That's a dirty trick, Mange, you really are a street rat, aren't you? I knew you were a monster, just like your appearance."

Boarpaw tightened his grip. "That's.. that's not true. I'm not a monster!" he tugged her leg in warning. Doubt ran through his mind. Was he? He was doing the right thing, wasn't he?

Sharptooth's eyes widened with pain as the smaller she-cat drove her shoulder into her foreleg, sending the tabby warrior staggering backward, her head spinning. Panting heavily, Sharptooth tried to get herself under control, her leg pulsing in rhythm with her heart. Her vision faded as she crouched in the undergrowth, but she was dimly aware of Boarpaw and Pigeon struggling in the grass. The warrior gritted her teeth. There was no time to run for help- she had to end this. What did she know?
Pigeon had a way with words. She had no real fighting skill, only tricks and low blows. The only defense she had was with words, bending them and twisting them to manipulate the hearts of others.
But how could she beat that?
"Don't... call him that..." Her voice was hoarse but forceful, coming in quick gasps. "His... his name's Boarpaw and he saved my life. He's a... a member of Thunderclan now."

As soon as Sharptooth was off of her, Pigeon chuckled. "Boarpaw, huh? Cute. You've traded one group of fleabags for another? I tolerated the disgusting cats of DawnClan to give you time.
Made up stupid little stories as an excuse to not have to bury dead 'clanmates'. Time's up. I'm dragging you back home and I don't care-" she yanked her captive leg away and slammed her paw down on his throat. Looming over him she unsheathed her claws. "If you're dead or alive." She pressed her claws into his skin. "Choose."

_______

Boarpaw's throat ached and it felt as if he'd swallowed glass. There was warmth welling on the top of his head. Had she shoved him onto a rock? Pigeon's words made him narrow his eyes. What was the point of living if it was captive in a twoleg den with a cat he had less than a moon's worth of memories? Less so since he was so young then. This had to end, he was tired of running from place to place, being passed around as others left him behind as their burden. Looking to Sharptooth, he only felt more pained about the situation. He kept hurting her. She'd be fine without him. She had a big family to keep her company.

Pigeon struck the side of his head harshly with unsheathed claws. "ANSWER ME!" her eyes were wild. She was stretched thin, all she wanted was to go home but she needed to bring back the rat to earn her home back. She had no choice.

Glaring up at Pigeon, he mustered up as much of a sneer as he could. "Fine, dead." He felt the claws press harder, drawing small bits of blood.


Sharp can bamboozle her life away now, use your best zinger.]

Sharptooth locked her jaw and stood up as best she could, her tail-tip twitching as if counting the seconds. The she-cat was distracted, but she couldn't rush this. The large tabby she-cat's eyes narrowed as she gathered her strength, shifting her stance ever so slightly and bracing her back legs as if preparing to jump. Any moment now... The short-legged she-cat took the smallest step forward, her claws digging into the ground in anticipation.
"Fine, dead."
Sharptooth leaped. Like before, both she and Pigeon flew through the air. This time, however, Sharptooth's aim was true. They landed with a sharp crack, Sharptooth standing above the she-cat, one paw on her neck. The rouge's head was at an odd angle. Sharptooth had broken her back. Pigeon the Risen, leader of Dawnclan, was dying.
Sharptooth, her sides heaving, her fangs bared, lowered her muzzle to the stranger's ear. Her hot breath fanned her opponent's face as she spoke. "You made a mistake the moment you stepped into Thunderclan territory, stranger."
The she-cat coughed, sending droplets of scarlet-red blood flying. After a moment, Sharptooth stepped away. "She's dead."

Piegon narrowed her eyes at Boarpaw's statement, preparing to slice his throat, only to feel the hulking brute he'd been with slam into her. The crack registered in her ears but she didn't connect the dots that it was her own bones. She felt numb and on fire at the same time, pinpricks at her paw pads. What was happening? It was over all too quick, practically her next heartbeat. Was she really dead? Out here? All thanks to a brute and a spineless runt! She twitched barely registering Sharptooth's words before she went still, her anger and pride shifting to fear and shock in her last moments.

Boarpaw anticipated the death blow but, instead, felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as Pigeon's strike was skewed by Sharptooth. Grunting in pain at the sliced shoulder, he scrambled to his paw to see Sharptooth over Pigeon just as she'd been when Boarpaw thought he'd die. His eyes widened at the sight of Pigeon crumpled on the ground unnaturally. Shuddering, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he had to keep his gaze up at Sharptooth rather than Pigeon's corpse. "I-it's over. Really over... for good!" The tom didn't find the moment appropriate to celebrate his freedom from his harsh ex-mentor and leader. He opened his maw again and then closed it, not sure of what to say. Finally, he knew. The tom rushed forward and buried his face in her neck fur. "Y-you saved me. Again. Thank you, Sharptooth..." He noticed the blood dripping from his shoulder and matting his fur. That could be taken care of later. Pulling away to look at the broken form, he grimaced. "What do we do... with her?" Pigeon had already admitted her burial customs were fraudulent. Besides, they would attract foxes if they did it that way.

Sharptooth kneaded the ground as feeling slowly returned to her, her tail-tip twitching. She hissed softly through her teeth. She had sworn that she would never kill again, yet here she was again.
But that wasn't the most frightening part. When she had killed that poor, harmless apprentice by the river, she had felt remorse and sadness, regret for the end of a life. All she felt now was empty and cold. Her ears twitched as Boarpaw began to talk, babbling on about something-or-other. That didn't matter now- she had to hide Pigeon.
This... murder hadn't been against the code, right? She had been defending Boarpaw... Sharptooth spat on the ground and took a step forward, but before she could move, Boarpaw ran forward. That was all it took to wake her up. It was almost as if color had returned to the world. "Are you hurt?" She mewed, concern obvious in her voice as the sharp scent of blood hit her nose. "We'll have to tell Blizzardstar..." There was no getting out of it now. She wasn't going to make the same mistake as last time. With a grunt, she pulled Pigeon's body onto her back. "You go back to camp. Ask to see Mapleleaf, she'll get you patched up. I'm going to return this rouge to Twolegplace- I'll be back soon. Don't wait for me." Sharptooth gave Boarpaw a quick nudge and a weak smile as the last bit of tingling in her paws faded away. Even as she turned, her tail flicking, she could feel the adrenaline draining away, leaving nothing but reality behind. Sharptooth's whiskers twitched as she walked, a twinge running through her leg.

Boarpaw kneaded the ground. He turned to head back to camp and paused. "Don't head to the Dark Alley and, make sure no one follows you for too long. Be careful, I'd hate to have you hurt again because of me." He shook his head, doubting that the she-cat would even listen. She seemed off. He tried to speed off to camp, hissing and slowing his pace as he started to truly feel his wound. When he got to camp, the tom ducked into the medicine den before anyone could ask him questions.

we can end it here or after you post]