Dashing Through the Slush

Barleytuft didn't know how long he'd held on; he learned long ago that time moved strangely in the heat of battle and it was best not to think about it. Still, by the time he felt his grip faltering, he was certain he had left a good mark on his opponent. That fox would be forever scarred. With one last final thump of his hind claws, the sandy WindClan warrior released his grip and dropped to the ground, standing firm and panting for breath for a moment. The deep russet predator stumbled backwards, obviously trying to recover. Barleytuft took the chance to look at Graybriar, who was struggling to regain her footing. Be careful, he pleaded wordlessly.

Knowing he could do nothing to help her so long as the fox was a threat, the tabby tom turned to his opponent again. The fox had almost recovered, but Barleytuft, feeling like lightning on his feet that's what they don't see, charged forward, surging up to the creature and giving it no chance to rest as he lashed out furiously with his front feet, claws ripping furiously at the fox's muzzle and eyes for a brief moment before withdrawing speedily. Barleytuft could only hope that he would be quick enough to pull back before the fox could grab him.

Barleytuft used Rear-up to Slash on Fox, using 20 stamina and dealing 13 damage.

Barleytuft:
60/60 HP
200/240 SP

Graybriar:
60/80 HP
240/240 SP

Fox:
57/90 HP
260/280 SP

When Graybriar finally managed to get up, she immediately raced over to help Barleytuft. It was her fault that he was in this mess, and if he got badly hurt she'd never forgive herself. Though her legs were weak and shaky and she was still dizzy, the tabby she-cat ran and kicked at the fox, trying to knock it off balance. Wouldn't it just go away?!

Graybriar used Back Kick on Fox, dealing 15 damage and costing 15 stamina.

The fox snarled and moved forward to bite the cat the had been clawing at his face, when another cat- the one he'd thrown to the side- returned, kicking his side and making his unbalanced legs buckle beneath him. His eyes narrowed as he flared at the returned she-cat, noting that it might not take too much more to make her stop attacking him. And if he did, maybe the other cat would leave him alone too. Without warning, the large fox lunged at the smaller gray cat and snapped his teeth down on her leg, biting through the flesh and to the bone. He didn't break it, but he hurt it enough that she would leave him alone.

Fox used Iron Bite on Graybriar, dealing 30 damage and costing 20 stamina.

Graybriar:
30/80 HP
225/240 SP

Fox:
42/90 HP
240/280 SP

Barleytuft:
60/60 HP
200/240 SP

Before the fox could reach him with his viciously snapping teeth, Barleytuft spotted Graybriar rearing onto her front legs to kick the predator's ribs, sending him stumbling sideways. The warrior felt slightly reassured by his Clanmate's recovery and return to battle. Focusing on the fox again, he arched his back and spat threateningly at it, tensing his muscles as he prepared to lunge forward with another attack. Before he could spring, however, the large ruddy predator had recovered enough to swing at Graybriar. Barleytuft gasped "No!" as it clamped down on her leg.

The sandy tabby didn't waste one moment; he leapt at the fox's face and slashed at it furiously, ripping at skin and fur and hoping from a grim place in his heart that he blinded the senselessly raging creature and made it regret ever harming a WindClan cat. His first priority was to make it let go of Graybriar. Once it did that, he rushed up at it again, letting out a vicious warcry as he gave it another hard smack on its muzzle. "Get out! Go! How dare you hurt Graybriar, you stupid mangy crow-heart!" he practically roared, the blood rushing in his ears as he fiercely - maybe stupidly - continued to charge at the fox, trying to chase it away.

Barleytuft used Upright Front Paws on Fox, using 20 stamina and dealing 13 damage.
He also used Swift Strike, using 10 stamina and dealing 5 damage.
Fox has been chased from the battle.

Graybriar:
30/80 HP
225/240 SP

Fox:
24/90 HP
240/280 SP

Barleytuft:
60/60 HP
170/240 SP

As the fox crunched down on her leg, a high-pitched scream filled the air, one of which she was unaware until she stopped to breathe. Her same injured leg... As Graybriar lay unmoving, hyperventilating, on the cold ground, she felt her leg lying at a strange angle in a pool of... something. Something wet and warm. Oh, StarClan... Oh, StarClan... She couldn't think, all she could do was whimper as the pain shot up her leg. Her eyes squeezed shut, so she didn't know what was happening around her. Stray words flitted across her blank mind. Barleytuft... where? Okay? Fox... StarClan....


The second that the fox tossed the other cat away again, the tom was on him in a fury, slashing and clawing. This wasn't worth it... he could find rabbits somewhere else. Stupid cats. With a single snarl, the wounded fox bounded off into the moors, off to lick his wounds before looking for other food for his mate.

For a moment there was no satisfaction as the fox snarled and began to retreat. Barleytuft kept after it for several more tail-lengths, spitting in a fury and lashing threateningly with his claws whenever he got the chance. "Stay out of WindClan, flea-pelt!" he snarled. By that point the sandy tabby tom began to realize that the fox was far out of his reach and fleeing with haste. His heart was pounding with adrenaline and he panted to catch his breath for a moment as he stared after it, trying to calm his nerves.

Nearby, a small, sharp whimper caught Barleytuft's attention. "Graybriar!" he gasped as he realized, immediately spinning around and bounding to the injured she-cat's side.

The silver tabby was slumped on her side, face scrunched with pain and anguish. Her leg - so recently bitten by a raccoon and only barely healed from it - looked half-shredded at the moment, and Barleytuft prayed that it looked worse than it was. Whatever the extent of the damage was, the plain fact at the moment was that it was bleeding heavily. A pool had already formed under the she-cat's hips. Graybriar's sides heaved, her entire body trembling as though she were cold.

"Graybriar, can you hear me?" Barleytuft asked, the sound of the worry in his own voice surprising him. He stared at her leg wound, then looked to her face. Could she hear him? I can't do nothing! he thought. "I-I'm here, Graybriar. The fox is gone," he meowed to her gently, his voice wavering.

His eyes drifted to her leg wound again. It had been only a few seconds so of course the bleeding hadn't slowed yet, but watching it pulse made Barleytuft want to scream with helplessness. The WindClan warrior spun around wildly for a moment, scanning the moor for something he could use to put on the wound and help with the bleeding. The moor seemed unusually desolate and barren with the slush and dormant foliage around. I don't know where I could possibly find moss right now other than Briarpaw's den...

Barleytuft grimaced as he focused back on Graybriar. That was simply where he'd have to take her, and fast. "I'm sorry if this hurts," he murmured apologetically as he gently grasped her scruff. With a heave he lifted her upper body, and quick as he could he slipped his shoulders - still tender from his fight with the eagle - underneath her. Slowly and carefully Barleytuft settled Graybriar's limp form on his shoulders, and he said in a voice strained with effort, "I'll get you home safe, Graybriar; just hang on."

With that the sandy tom began to make his way quickly, though awkwardly and carefully with his precious burden on the slush, back over the moors to camp.