Graveside Tussle {Closed}

Marshstorm's movements jerked to an abrupt halt, and Scorchclaw wasted no time seizing the opportunity. Once again rearing up on his hind legs, he slammed his front paws against the other tom's side. Following Dewshine's death, Flurryshine had spiraled into depression. Was it his fault that she had grown obsessed with corpses? No. Yet he had had to deal with her. There had been no other choice but to bury the corpses, and leave her with them if she so wished. He knew no other way. What was the point in dragging her along with them, if her soul remained at Dewshine's grave? It would be no better than having a walking corpse among RiverClan's ranks. In the back of the mind, he wondered if the dirty white warrior was watching his fight with Marshstorm. He was making the best decision for his clan's sake. Or... was he really? There would bound to be cats who disagreed with him. After the Shade incident, he had stopped being able to think of himself as a capable leader. No such leader would have let a clanmate die in front of him.

Why... was Marshstorm doing this? As much as he hated the ThunderClan deputy, was the other tom really the kind of cat to recklessly start a fight?

Scorchclaw used Upright Front Paws, dealing 16 damage and costing 20 stamina.

Scorchclaw
38/100 HP
185/280 SP

Marshstorm
22/100 HP
210/280 SP

As each blow hit, Marshstorm refused to flinch. He bared with the blows until he found an opening, rearing up and smashing his forepaws onto Scorchclaw's distracted head with a grunt. Despite them being mostly sheathed, he could tell it likely hurt. The other tom may have a headache later, but he hoped that would help in the long run. Just as this battle was meant to. He smiled despite himself. A small, honest one as their spar continued. His left hind leg limping from the strain, old dog injury acting up again as he feared it would, but he had to push past it.

Marshstorm used Upright Lock.

Scorchclaw:
21/100 (-0)
185/280

Marshstorm:
22/100
185/280 (-25)

Scorchclaw staggered, reeling from the sheer force of the blow. For a second or two, the world seemed to spin before his eyes. He tried to regain his balance, even as a fresh bout of pain throbbed within his head. His features twisted with a grimace. Marshstorm's attack had hurt more than he had expected, but he could still bear it. Now was not the time to lose himself in thought, he realized. What was he doing? Why was he wallowing in self-pity before an enemy? Surely he had already gathered enough disgrace upon himself. Pull yourself together! The commanding voice snapped within his mind. It was clear what he needed to do in this moment―defeat Marshstorm. Nothing else mattered right now. First, he would make the ThunderClan deputy take back every word he had insolently spouted earlier. Then he would finish burying Gingerstripe and Dewshine. Now that his attention was fully invested in the fight, his mind suddenly felt clear. Adrenaline was pumping within his veins, driven by the heat of the battle. It was strange; just a moment ago, he had felt so depressed and suffocated. He released a ferocious screech. Before Marshstorm could pull back, Scorchclaw batted sharply at the other tom. His claws sunk into fur, barely grazing flesh. "What are you smirking at?" He hissed, green eyes narrowed.


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

Scorchclaw
21/100 HP
170/280 SP

Marshstorm
5/100 HP
185/280 SP

The limp in his leg continued to get worse as Scorchclaw's blows rained down on him. The renewed force of them, the confidence he sensed in the other tom told him everything he needed to know. He wouldn't win this spar. As the other deputy screeched, then lunged and knocked him down, the question was met with a satisfied chuckle. His amber eyes warmer than before. Without a trace of the earlier mockery he had been showing as he stayed on the ground in a clear display of surrender.

"Because now, you don't look like a self loathing mess." He meowed calmly. His gaze meeting Scorchclaw's straight on. "You look like a leader. The one your clan needs." He stood up slowly, shaking off bits of dirt that had become lodged in his pelt. He licked at a sore claw for a moment, letting Scorchclaw think over his words. "As the clan's deputy, it's your job to lead them in this trying time. Jaystar is out there somewhere, but these cats need you." His gaze softened as he glanced towards the graves of Dewshine and Gingerstripe. "You seemed far too stressed lately, but if I had nicely asked you to spar, I figured you'd have rejected the idea." He turned a hopeful flance towards Scorchclaw. "Hopefully, your mind and heart are clear now. I would continue, but if I do, my hind leg might give out."

Marshstorm stepped over a few paces. His hind leg siezing slightly as he paused to lick at it. He licked at it briefly, aware that Scorchclaw likely wouldn't have known it existed. Revealing a weakness that could be all to easily exploited, but it was all he had to offer as an apology for his harsh words.

Marshstorm surrendered the battle.

Scorchclaw had been prepared to go on fighting, but the light in Marshstorm's amber eyes caused his movements to jerk to a halt. Those were the eyes of a cat who saw no enemy before him. Instead of getting to his paws and resuming the battle, the ThunderClan deputy simply remained on the ground. He began to speak to Scorchclaw; this time, his mocking spirit seemed to have vanished into thin air. Unexpectedly, the RiverClan tom listened in silence to the end. For a moment or two, he seemed to thinking something over. His expressionless features gave nothing away. Then he drew a slow breath. "I did not ask for your help, Marshstorm." He spoke curtly, and his voice was still tinged with animosity, but the dark fury that had plagued him before the battle did not rear its head. As he had calmed down, the possibility of Marshstorm's true motives had occurred to him. It was too irresponsible for two deputies to be engaging in such strife while they were still stranded far from home. Marshstorm had surely known better. Goading aside, he should not have reciprocated Scorchclaw's attacks. The heat of emotion had kept the RiverClan deputy from noticing immediately, but Marshstorm had not struck with full intention to harm. If he had, the wounds his claws had inflicted would surely have been deeper. "Do not be mistaken; not once have I forgotten my duty." It was because he understood that he had ended up forcing himself into a dark corner. In the end, he had only put on a miserable display, one that even his enemy had noticed. How pathetic he had been. But... at least he knew what to do now. That fact was easily the most infuriating part of the matter. Sympathy from an enemy was something he did not need, and it was something he did not trust. "If Leopardstar were to find out about about our scuffle, he would surely be displeased. Keep your nose in the matters of your own clan, Marshstorm―for your own good. Our clans might be working together for the time being, but past animosities cannot be covered that easily." His green eyes glinted coldly. "I will not hold your words today against you; however, neither will I forget them. Our next battle will not end this gently. Do not try something like this again."