Hunting on the Disputed [closed]

Barleytuft padded across the moors. While he was reluctant to hunt at the Gorge again so soon after he'd been caught there, he knew that prey had to be fresher among the clefts in the stone. The sandy WindClan warrior moved cautiously, hoping to find some prey - and not more trouble like he had last time.

Streampaw had been hunting for a while now, but thus far his only success full catch has been one small mouse. And when you are hunting for hours in cold, white land your motivation sure turns sour. Even worse his mind was completely not on the hunt but rather on Featherpaw, his dear friend who had changed badly without him doing anything to help her. These thoughts kept his mind completely occupied and he did not realize it when he just crossed the border to Windclan territory.
He still was in his hunting crouch when he realized that the territory was unlike he remembered it being when he looked back he saw he crossed the Windclan border. He quickly made his way in the hope of no-one realizing he trespassed when suddenly he caught the cent of a wind clan cat nearby.

Instead of finding prey as he'd hoped, Barleytuft found RiverClan scent - and close. Ah, mouse-dung, he thought as he crouched. His sandy pelt no longer helped him camouflage well into the moor now that it had snowed, but he still was able to creep forward to see the trespasser making their way quickly back to RiverClan's territory. He's leaving, but I already brought a RiverClan cat to camp; Brindlestar would be so disappointed if I didn't defend our territory.

Reluctantly, Barleytuft charged forward and leaped for the RiverClan apprentice, grappling the tom as they both rolled over the ground together. "Pay better attention to the borders," Barleytuft hissed, though his voice was more stern than aggressive. "The Gorge is being disputed but that's no reason to push boundaries further."

Streampaw almost jumped out of his pelt when he suddenly felt claws digging into him. He quickly did the first thing that came to his mind and slashed the under belly of the atacking cat with his hind legs, barely processing the words the Windclan warrior said.

Barleytuft hissed with frustration when, instead of trying to flee, the RiverClan apprentice started kicking out fiercely with his powerful hind legs. Barleytuft's short belly fur offered little protection as the apprentice's claws battered him, so the WindClan warrior kept his claws sheathed and fired a well-aimed smack at the RiverClan tom's ears that would leave his head ringing. As soon as he hit, Barleytuft retreated several tail-lengths, bristling and growling, "Get out of here. I don't want to have to hurt you."

Only Streampaw's high pitched breath escaped as he tried to regain some strength everything in his mind racing on a unusual high speed as he tried to progress what happened. He looked up at the Windclan warrior with fear in his eyes. As he prosed the words of the warrior in his mind he looked up "sorry" the words where said quite but honest. He quickly turned back looked up where the border was and sprinted to the direction that could equal a Windclan cat as he quickly got back to his side of the border.

Barleytuft was silently relieved when the young tom moved to regard him again, though the obvious fear in his eyes made the WindClan warrior's heart sink. I wish it didn't have to be this way, he thought. The RiverClan apprentice apologized to him and immediately whirled back towards his territory, fleeing with speed that would impress any cat. Barleytuft watched him leave for several long moments, his lightly-twitching tail the only obvious sign of his agitation as the fight in him died down. When the apprentice was safely on his side of the border, Barleytuft turned away and began loping back towards camp, mumbling, "The sooner RiverClan stops arguing with us about the Gorge, the better it'll be for everyone."