Graveside Tussle {Closed}

About two hours had passed since the sun's rays had first broken forth at the horizon. To Scorchclaw, however, those two hours had felt like a much longer span of time. While most of his clanmates had been sent out on patrols, the RiverClan deputy was currently standing at the edge of a field. A single glance would be enough to take in the wretched state of the area. Debris stirred up by the windstorm, including broken branches and leaves, were strewn all over the ground. He was alone at first glance; upon a closer look, the hunched form of Flurryshine could be spotted a distance away. The corpses of Dewshine and Gingerstripe lay at his paws. Already, time had devoured parts of their once familiar features. The scent of rotting flesh was thick in the air, a sickening aroma that seemed to cling to every blade of grass and every strand of fur on Scorchclaw's pelt. The time had come for these two to rest within the earth, a time which was long overdue. Three fresh scratches lashed across the large tabby's muzzle were a reminder of the price that had been paid. The blood had clotted a while ago, but the wounds still throbbed. Every word of Flurryshine's still lingered in his mind. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the conversation repeating itself.

Because of the decision he had made, another cat was going to die. There had been no other choice for him, however. Burying the bodies was for the overall good of the clan. Just as he had chosen to have the bodies buried, Flurryshine had chosen not to leave their side. This burden was his to bear, as the one in charge of RiverClan on this shore.

First of all, Scorchclaw set about clearing some space. The process alone did not take long. He spent minimal time shifting the debris aside. Soon, a plot of land large enough to hold two cats had emerged. But here the grueling work began. He had dug graves before, but seldom alone. Before long, his paws were stained dark with dirt, and clumps of soil were stuck between his toes. Exhaustion from a continuous lack of sleep was catching up to him. His head throbbed. Pausing for a break, the large tabby sunk unto his haunches. A breeze that swept by intensified the stench of the corpses, causing him to grimace. Even without turning around, he knew that Flurryshine was watching. He could almost feel the green gaze boring into his pelt.

Scorchclaw gritted his teeth. Hoisting himself back to his paws, he resumed the digging.

There was nothing to do but continue, after all.

The responsibility of leadership had been placed on him by Jaystar. Before his clanmates and the ancestors, Scorchclaw had accepted that responsibility. There was a time when he had thought that he could get through it by simply doing his best. That attitude of his had not changed. Whether advising Jaystar or carrying out regular warrior duties, he continued to give his all. But if anything had changed, it was his realizing that his best was not always enough. He had made mistakes in his life. It was easy to say that everyone made mistakes, but his mistakes had already resulted in the deaths of two cats. If he had not been gullible, Duckpuddle would not have died defending him from Shade. If he had spent more time training his apprentice, Blackpaw would not have drowned. After all that, he was somehow still RiverClan's deputy. And now there were even more lives hanging on his decisions.

There was nowhere to look but forward.

Scorchclaw hated Jaystar for all the leader had done. The silver tom was a liar, a coward, and a codebreaker. Yet StarClan had clearly decided that Jaystar was still a better leader than Scorchclaw would be. Even though Mintwhisker had publicly exposed the forbidden relationship in the middle of a Gathering, the RiverClan cats had pretty much shrugged those accusations off. They had that much faith in their leader. In comparison, he was still trying to catch up.

Scorchclaw had no idea what the right answer was. He did not even know if he was doing the right thing.

Marshstorm padded quietly through the trees near where the cats had set up a temporary camp. His gaze flicked up at the clear blue sky as the clouds drifted lazily, his mind racing in thoughts. He was grateful to have been spoken to by StarClan, glad for the bountiful prey they had been able to catch to prepare their bodies for what could be a long journey. Yet, he wished StarClan would have told him how his family was doing... was Duskpaw alright? What abour Dustcloud? His pelt prickled slightly as the stench of death flooded his muzzle.

His heart clenched painfully, hoping it wasn't an omen as he forced himself to follow it. The sounds of scraping at the ground echoed in his ears as he pushed through a thick bush to see the dark frame of Scorchclaw. He paused, looking around the clearing and spotting the rotting corpses of the cats that he had been carrying. The sounds of crying weren't far off either... he wished he could feel relieved... but all he could feel was sympathy. It felt choking, as he watched Scorchclaw dig he padded over to him.

Without a word, he dug his forepaws into the dirt. Helping to churn loose the soil and widen the hole for both cats to fit comfortably. The sun warm on his back as they dug, his ears twitching as dirt settled on them before he hauled himself out of the hole.
"Why were you doing this alone?" He asked, his tone calm as he watched Scorchclaw take care of the actual bodies. Allowing the tom to set them in the way he wanted... he wasn't sure if RiverClan had any specific manner when it came to the resting of the dead. Though it was clear the she-cat and tom were long gone. His eyes settled briefly on Gingerstripe's pelt. It squirmed a little from the maggots beneath the fur... it made his heart ache to see a body this way.

He remembered the tom. When he had arrived in ThunderClan to ask if he could become one of them. The memory of shutting the tom down was clear. The murderer of Honeydrop... but did he really know her? How could he be so quick to judge... when he knew that ThunderClan was a clan of forgiveness... one that was almost a refuge among the clans. The image was comforting, but it also alarmed him. It was a weakness as well as a strength. Judgement calls had to be made. He shoved his regret away, there was no time for it now. In the end, he hoped the tom had been happy.

Instead his gaze turned to Scorchclaw. His amber eyes flickering over the other deputy's dirt covered form.

"Scorchclaw... " He started softly. "You are stressed." The observation was plain. It booked no room for question or argument as he looked at his fellow deputy with a level gaze that was both warm yet would take no nonsense. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, after a moment his attention turning to the trees around them, with no other cats in sight, his attention returned to Scorchclaw.

The soft crunch of paws on fallen leaves caused Scorchclaw's tufted ears to prick. In the next moment, the detestable scent of ThunderClan reached him. It was almost undetectable beneath the odor of death, but the large tabby would know it anywhere. If it was possible for his expression to grow any darker, it did. He continued to dig, not bothering to turn around for a look at the visitor. He had neither the intention nor the patience to humor curious eyes. The whole reason he had chosen this time to bury Gingerstripe and Flurryshine was because there were few cats with free time on their paws.

The ThunderClanner had no intention of leaving, as Scorchclaw had hoped he would. Before long, Marshstorm begun to lend a helping paw. The RiverClan deputy directed a scathing glare towards the other tom, his lip curling. The lack of welcome was practically written all over his features. For a second or two, he considered driving Marshstorm away. As he hesitated, however, the other tom simply went on digging. In the end, the only warning Scorchclaw gave was a low hiss, before he returned to clawing up pawfuls of dirt.

"Why were you doing this alone?" The words received no response. Scorchclaw knew the answer, however. This burden was his to bear.

Both toms worked silently side by side. At length, the grave was deep enough.

The brunt work over with, Scorchclaw clambered out of the pit. He strode over to the bodies, pausing for a last glance at the profiles that had once been familiar. The burial would not take long now. Steeling himself one final time, he gently closed his jaws around the ragged scruff of Dewshine. Before the stench could overwhelm his senses, he forcefully tried to block it out. The attempt was not very successful, and his features twisted in a grimace.

Why had he allowed Marshstorm to help? Truth be told, Scorchclaw wanted nothing to do with ThunderClan. Usually, he would have put up more of an objection. After everything ThunderClan had done, they had little right to touch a RiverClan corpse, let alone bury it. But not today. Today, he was just too tired to bother. He wanted to get the burial over with as quickly as possible.

The constant hatred was almost too much today. Scorchclaw mostly felt empty, as if he had been drained of emotions. He laid Dewshine in the grave and quickly did the same for Gingerstripe. Soon all that was left was to cover them up with dirt. Scorchclaw

At Marshstorm's words, however, something seemed to stir within him—a spark of... anger? It took a moment for him to even recognize the emotion. Scorchclaw's paws jerked to a halt. Setting down the clump of dirt he had scooped up, the large tabby slowly turned to face the ThunderClan deputy. Then, slowly but clearly, he spat forth the words. "I do not need your hypocritical concern, Marshstorm." The pale green eyes burned coldly, revealing a hint of the usual fire. "What have you come here for?" He snarled, "Leave. I have no desire to humor an enemy at this moment." Perhaps Marshstorm had gotten the wrong idea. They had more or less worked together in the short time they had been stranded on this shore, but ThunderClan and RiverClan had not become allies. The other deputy had no business asking after him. What was Marshstorm trying to imply? That Scorchclaw was weak? Because he was anything but weak. His clan needed him. He would not fail them, no matter what the cost.

The dark tabby looked at Scorchclaw with a clearly incredulous expression. If Scorchclaw had been his usual self, he knew he would have left well enough alone. It was a true sign of the other's stress that he had been able to help unhindered as he sat down directly in front of Scorchclaw.
"The clans are stranded together, like it or not, we need to be allied." His voice was calm and collected as he lifted a claw to inspect it, for all appearances seeming quite leasurely about an otherwise threatening gesture. He spotted one of his claws was shedding it's exterior. He hummed at it thoughtfully as he rubbed the dirt covered claw on the ground to dislodge the claw sheath.

"I came to help you, that should have been obvious." He explained as he felt the old piece of claw break off with satisfaction. "You seemed as though you needed it. What with your lack of ability to stop your clanmate from dragging useless corpses around." The biting words came out of nowhere as Marshstorm raised his gaze to Scorchclaw. His pelt still smooth and unrisen in aggrivation. Scorchclaw... looked every bit a mess. He worried for the other deputy. The tom seemed to be losing the respect of his RiverClan counter parts... and the way he seemed to be so indecisive... he loathed the thought that Scorchclaw must be feeling lost somehow. "I mean, look at Wasppaw. Has her training gone anywhere?" He asked, tone rhetorical even as he thought guiltily about the apprentices of his own clan.

"Then there's the kits. Can you even care for them once the shadowclan queen stops nursing them? Or have you already decided to surrender them to Scorchstar? I wouldn't blame you. You're having such difficulties already." He stood, his claws spreading on the ground as he prepared himself for a retaliation. "I can only imagine what Jaystar will think, that's if we even see him at all. But if we don't... well, I guess your clan will have to suffer with you."

Without warning, a paw lashed out and struck Marshstorm in the chest. While the claws had been kept sheathed, the amount of force behind the blow suggested that it was no playful jostle.

"Enough." Venom dripped from the single word. Black fury was written all over Scorchclaw's features. The large tabby's lips had peeled back, revealing the glint of fangs in a savage snarl. "If your purpose was to anger me, you have succeeded. I will only say this once more. Leave. Now. Dally any longer, and you will very likely find my claws ripping through your face next." He could not have spoken any more threateningly, for he had meant every word. In his many moons, his patience had been tested many times. But never had he been so close to losing control as he was now.

Scorchclaw was fed up, fed up of it all. And he was full of hatred.

Marshstorm's words dug like claws into his flesh. They stung him, because there was an element of truth to them. His current fears, his uncertainties—the ThunderClan deputy peered into the deepest portions of his heart and pointed them out. Scorchclaw was a tom who usually kept his emotions to himself. He could be short-tempered and sharp-tongued, but he maintained a guarded exterior most of the time. Perhaps he had always feared others knowing of his vulnerabilities, that he was not as strong as he often appeared to be. The fact that he could be so easy to read now sparked a kind of desperate fear within him.

The frustration, the grief, the anger—it boiled within him, begging to be given vent.

Scorchclaw used Front Paw Blow, dealing 12 damage and costing 5 stamina.

Scorchclaw
100/100 HP
275/280 SP

Marshstorm
88/100 HP
280/280 SP

The abrupt blow wasn't wholly unwelcomed. The words that passed his lips were unpleasant to Marshstorm. He hated to say the cruel things... but he hated even more the sight of the other deputy so despaired. He was a strong warrior, full of pride and too stubborn to accept any other help. He smiled as he brushed away some dirt from the blow. His amber gaze bright as he observed his now opponents movements with a casual air.

"I don't fear your claws, Scorchclaw. Come, show me the strength that RiverClan's deputy still has in there somewhere." He goaded, ready for a lunge as he met Scorchclaw with claws that were barely out of their sheaths. Each claw landing a blow on Scorchclaw's shoulders as he darted by. They barely broke the fur, only enough to let his opponent know that he had scored the hit.

This wasn't a real battle after all. Though Marshstorm wouldn't confess as such yet. Instead, he scoffed another mocking remark as he continued to push.
"Or do RiverClan's enemies have nothing to fear from you?"

Marshstorm used Front Paws Strike (Whammy paws)

Scorchclaw:
85/100 (-15)
275/280

Marshstorm:
88/100
255/280 (-25)

Marshstorm was practically asking for a fight. In that case, Scorchclaw saw no need to hold himself back either. The deputy shoved rationale aside, allowing his emotions to take over. The tom before him was a ThunderClanner, one of the cats who had blinded Adderfeather when she had been just an apprentice. He would never forgive them. With a piercing hiss, he lunged at the enemy. His long, powerful legs closed the distance between the two of them in a flash. Lowering his body to make his large frame more compact, he slipped beneath Marshstorm at the first opening. He twisted, battering the exposed underbelly. His claws caught mainly fur, but he did succeed in landing a few scratches. Emerging from the other side, he whipped around to face Marshstorm.

"I will have you take every one of those words back, Marshstorm." Scorchclaw snarled. He cared little about anything else now.

Scorchclaw used Half-Turn Belly Rake, dealing 16 damage and costing 20 stamina.

Marshstorm
72/100 HP
255/280 SP

Scorchclaw
85/100 HP
255/280 SP

"You can try. Fish breath." Marshstorm retorted as Scorchclaw attacked. The darkness to his words faded as the other tom leapt for him, he reached out to claw, but realised his mistake too late as his belly was raked with harsh claws. Gritting his teeth, he leapt up and spun around in time to strike back at Scorchclaw with still partially sheathed claws as he reared up to strike at the other deputy. Taking care not to go for the eyes or nose. His hind paws spread out to keep his weight even and harder to knock off balance as he got only a couple blows in before leaping back with flattened ears that spoke of threat and discomfort. He didn't relish this fight, but it was needed.


Marshstorm used Upright Front Paws

Scorchclaw:
69/100 (-16)
255/280

Marshstorm:
72/100
235/280 (-20)

Scorchclaw's tufted ears swiveled back, a grimace flashing across his face at the sting of Marshstorm's claws. Still, he planted his paws firmly and held his ground. Barely even giving himself time to flinch, he counterattacked. The other deputy had scarcely withdrawn, when Scorchclaw pressed in on this opening. In one swift motion, he had shifted the majority of his body weight to his hind legs and reared up. He slashed at Marshstorm's shoulders. Once, twice, thrice. Landing neatly on all fours again, he shoved his shoulder forcefully against the other tom's chest. The action pushed them apart, once again clearing some distance between them. Scorchclaw gave a violent lash of his feathery tail, his green eyes smoldering. "I have never liked you." He spat darkly.

Scorchclaw used Rear Up to Slash, dealing 17 damage and costing 15 stamina.

Scorchclaw
69/100 HP
240/280 SP

Marshstorm
55/100 HP
235/280 SP

Marshstorm forced himself not to wince at the slashes, taking them as he shouldered the other tom down to allow himself room to back up. His amber gaze staring straight towards Scorchclaw's vibrant green. A visible wince at the RiverClan deputy's words. For a moment, he thought about sending a retort the other tom's way, but instead he saw a brief opening.

Without a second to spare, he took it. A quick burst of speed followed by launching himself into the air to bulldoze the other cat down onto the ground with a fierce and determined growl.

"Perhaps that is a good thing." He growled, though the anger didn't show that much in his eyes anymore. He knew Scorchclaw was riled up enough, but he had to keep his momentum going.


Marshstorm used Leap and Hold. Scorchclaw is pinned for 2 turns.

Scorchclaw:
55/100 (-14)
240/280

Marshstorm:
55/100
225/280 (-10)

The member 'Cays' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Effect Dice' : 5

A grunt slipped from Scorchclaw's parted jaws as his shoulder slammed into the ground. For a second of disorientation, he flailed wildly. His paws met nothing but air. Marshstorm was holding him down, and the sharp pricks of the other tom's claws were what caused him to gather his senses again. The RiverClan deputy let out a snarl of primal fury. You're mistaken if you think you can restrain me, Marshstorm! He broke free with brute force, rolling out of the ThunderClan deputy's grip. Once he felt that the weight above him had lifted, the large tabby swiftly leaped up again. Tufts of his brown tabby fur had been ripped out by his motions, and they now adorned Marshstorm's claws. He drew a deep breath, lowering himself into a defensive stance. Come. His eyes almost seemed to dare Marshstorm, inviting him to make the next move.

Why had Jaystar broken the Warrior Code? Had Goldeneye meant so much to him that the leader had been willing to throw everything else away? Why had he lied to his clan? Look what the outcome of his actions had been―nothing but regret and pain. RiverClan's leader had been stripped of the many lives he could have used to serve, reduced to the mortality of any other cat. Now he would die sooner or later. Why? Scorchclaw did not understand. Why had his trust and respect been betrayed? Foolishness! Nothing but foolishness!

Scorchclaw would take even that grudge out on Marshstorm.

Scorchclaw used Duck and Twist, dealing 8 damage and costing 25 stamina.

Scorchclaw
55/100 HP
215/280 SP

Marshstorm
47/100 HP
225/280 SP

The dark pelt of Scorchclaw was more slippery than Marshstorm had expected as the other tom managed to get to his paws. Marshstorm tried to dig his claws in to stop him, but stopped short at the realisation that he might wound too deeply and relented. Allowing himself to be tossed off with a snarl and amber eyes that gazed back in measured interest. Guaging if Scorchclaw would attack immediately.

When the other tom didn't, he lunged forward. Claws extended as he ducked low, then struck high. His claws only half-unsheathed to avoid crippling damage or blinding his foe as he hissed directly into Scorchclaw's face to stop him from realising that he had pulled his blow partly.


Marshstorm used Rear-up-to-slash

Scorchclaw:
38/100 (-17)
215/280

Marshstorm:
47/100
210/280 (-15)

As expected of ThunderClan's deputy, Marshstorm did not make for an easy opponent himself. Scorchclaw had been prepared to counter the other tom's blows, but his reaction speed was a tad too slow. Coupled with the feint, Marshstorm succeeded in landing a few clean scratches on Scorchclaw's face. The younger tom flinched, instinctively taking a step back. The wounds from Flurryshine's claws were still fresh on his muzzle. In the next moment, the other warrior was in his face, teeth bared in a threatening hiss. He felt the spittle that landed on his muzzle. If Marshstorm's goal had been to further infuriate Scorchclaw, his tactic worked. The latter tom bunched his hind legs. In one powerful leap, he had landed behind his enemy. With barely a scrap of hesitation, he clamped his jaws around the dark-furred tail of the other deputy. He planted his paws firmly against the ground, and then he gave the appendage a firm yank.

Scorchclaw used Tail Yank, dealing 9 damage and costing 10 stamina.

Scorchclaw
38/100 HP
205/280 SP

Marshstorm
38/100 HP
210/280 SP

Unprepared for the sudden jump from Scorchclaw, he tried to turn quickly enough to pull his tail out of range. A grunted yowl in his throat as he felt teeth sink into and pull on it. His muscles locked briefly. The pain stunning him into complete stillness for a long moment that Scorchclaw could openly take advantage of... yet, that wasn't entirely against the plan. Rather than be alarmed or angry, the dark brown tom stood and braced against the shock. Watching what the other tom would do, listening to any words said.


Marshstorm was stunned

Scorchclaw:
38/100 (-0)
205/280

Marshstorm:
38/100
210/280 (-0)