no matter how brave [closed]

The official story was that he was going out on a late evening hunt. It wasn’t a lie; hunting was a significant part of Raventail’s plan, and there were worse times of day to go searching for rabbits. Nor was it unbelievable, considering how often Raventail assigned himself to patrols just to stretch his paws. The crux of the issue, however, was where those rabbits would end up. He would come back with something for the fresh-kill pile (both because it would back up his story and because, well, when had he ever cut a hunting patrol short?), but for now, whatever he caught had a more important purpose.

Raventail was not the vengeful type, but he’d already lost two cats on the rolling hills he was meant to call home. Whether it was a fox or a cave-in or a badger, whether they were buried by WindClan paws or the moor itself, didn’t matter in the end; they were gone all the same. If the only way to prevent that was by being reckless, then he would be reckless. Despite that, he wasn’t feather-brained enough to try meeting his target in the tunnels. Between the close quarters, Raventail’s general unfamiliarity with the world beneath WindClan, and the ever-looming threat of being crushed, doing so would be a death sentence. That was where the prey came in. If rabbits could wander aboveground, so, too, could a fox—especially if it caught the scent of a potential meal.

He had a plan, or as much of a plan as he cared to have, and a reason to carry it out. If he waited…there might be another Murkpaw. Another Brookclover.

WindClan’s camp was well behind him now. His thick fur protected him from the breeze, somewhat more subdued than it had been before sundown. Unfortunately, it couldn’t protect him from the apprehension sparking through his limbs. One didn’t earn the -tail suffix through skill in battle; he’d never gone looking for a fight before, nor had he ever fought on his own. Foxes and rabbits weren’t the only things out this time of night, either. But Brookclover had trained him well. Raventail let out a short, sharp breath, then raised his muzzle to the air.

Luck was on his side. A few steps forward, and a scent he knew as well as his own drifted to him. Not just that; as flat as the moor was, there was no way for the cluster of shapes in the distance to disguise themselves. They were immediately recognizable. Rabbits—quite a few of them. If he was careful, he might be able to catch the nearest one, which had wandered away from its fellows. His eyes were better than any rabbit’s, and his dark fur, so noticeable in daylight hours, helped him blend in with the shadows the night cast. The approach was what it had always been: a challenge of how quietly he could move his paws. Tonight, he would meet it gladly.

The small tom sank into the grass. His nerves were already beginning to settle. To him, the hunt was familiar; sometime during his deputyship, it had become an odd comfort masquerading as duty. He shuffled closer, utterly silent. The air had never seemed so still; he feared a single breath might shatter it.

When he thought he might have a chance, he all but flung himself forward. A panicked squeal split the night. The rabbits scattered in different directions—pointlessly, for Raventail had already chosen his quarry. His legs strained as he raced after it. Thankfully, it wasn’t as fast as its companions. He pounced, digging his claws into its back, and his teeth found its neck before it could make another sound. One rabbit down. How many would he need to catch a fox? Looking down at his catch, motionless under his paws, Raventail was content to let that question lie. He’d gotten a solid start.

Raventail attempted to catch Rabbit, using 3 stamina. The attempt was successful!

Raventail
100/100 HP
277/280 SP (-3)

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 3

A solid start meant nothing if he never went beyond it. Raventail peered into the darkness again, just in case; as he’d suspected, he’d scared off everything in the immediate area. He had no choice but to carry his catch with him, then. Discerning fresh scents was a bit harder with the taste of an extremely fresh rabbit on his tongue, but he wouldn’t abandon his prey just so the fox could steal it while his back was turned. The whole point of luring the fox out was being there to take it down.

Deeper into the moor he went, rabbit dangling from his mouth, purpose in his stride—until, at long last, he spotted the silhouette of another rabbit. After digging what may have been the hastiest hole made in the history of the Clans, depositing his first catch, and covering it, Raventail crouched once more. So intense was his focus that the moor seemed to drift beneath him. This time, when he broke his silence for a sprint, his quarry didn’t have time to screech. He bowled it over—it was smaller than the previous one had been—and by some twist of fate had its neck in his jaws a heartbeat later. Dropping the second rabbit beside the pile of dirt hiding the first, he set to work unearthing it. Two might be enough for his plan…

A sound stopped him cold. Something was walking through the grass. Raventail raised his head, ears swiveling—was it the fox? What caught his eye wasn’t the gray-brown of a rabbit, nor the reddish orange of a fox; instead, he saw the striped pelt of his apprentice. Former apprentice. If that hadn’t given her away, her limp, just about as severe as it had been when she’d come back with Ploverpaw, certainly would have. Did Aspenheart know she was out of camp? ”Goldengale,” Raventail said—sighed, really—letting his shoulders slump and sheathing his claws. ”You’re out late.”

Raventail attempted to catch Rabbit, using 3 stamina. The attempt was successful!

Raventail
100/100 HP
274/280 SP (-3)

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 2

It had been a pawful of days since the attack from the fox, and her and Ploverpaw's return to camp. She had been confined to camp, and the effort of trying to remain tucked away was starting to take it's toll on her. She had talked to Finchstar about Ploverpaw's efforts, praising the older tom with his memory of battle and hunting, and he had accompanied Aspenheart to the Moonstone already. She was proud of the tom, he deserved his name. As she had rested in the camp as the sun started to set, the black pelt of the deputy, her mentor, caught her gaze. He left alone, and she frowned in concern, with the fox only StarClan knew where, there was no way she was going to let that happen, injured leg or not. Heaving herself to her paws, she made her way out and away from camp, limping with each painful step.

It was difficult to catch up to the tom, and briefly she thought her following him might not be necessary. After all, the fox would be going to sleep too, wouldn't it? She came across the smell of blood and fresh rabbit, and purred to herself. At least he had been successful in his late day hunt. The scent kept pressing forward though, further into the territory. That was odd, why wouldn't he stay close to camp? As she pressed on, she saw his figure in the distance. A few hobbling steps closer, and she saw the rabbit in front of him. She stilled while he quickly killed it, adding it to his small pile. She started to walk again before noticing his ears swivel back, and her pelt flashed with heat as he called her out. Sighing, she made her way to his side, giving him a defiant grin. "Yeah, so are you. It's dangerous to be alone right now, rabbit brain. Plus, I'm dying of boredom in camp. So, why not join you?"

Goldengale looked around for any straggling prey that could be added to the pile. She attempted to shift her weight onto her injured paw and winced, returning it to her other side quickly as her eyes landed on a potential lizard to add. She hated the taste of lizards, but that didn't mean all the others did too. The lizard had it's back to her, so she limped forward painstakingly slowly, taking as much time as she could. When it was within range, she leaned back onto her hindlegs before pushing her forelegs forward, landing with her paws squarely onto the lizards back. It's legs scrambled in a sudden dash to escape, but she pulled her legs towards her rather than herself towards them to finish it off. Shuffling side to side, she got back onto her three good legs, using the bad one to hook the lizard and carry it with her to join Raventail's pile.

Goldengale attempted to catch Lizard, catch was a success. -3 SP.
40/45 HP (-5 for injury)
127/160 (-30 for injury)

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 2

Goldengale wove through the grasses to stand beside him. After watching her sprint over the hills so easily during her training, something about the sight of her limping made his stomach clench. Raventail’s eyes lingered on her leg, shadowed with unspoken worry. His tone betrayed none of it. ”Hey, the hunting’s been good. I’d say it’s worth it. Besides, I can probably handle a fox.” His attempt at boasting fell apart as, halfway through, his voice faltered. Though Goldengale was injured, Raventail was more thankful for her presence than he’d initially realized; hurt or not, another set of paws could never be a burden. It helped calm him further. The smile that crept onto his face wasn’t half as tense as the situation demanded. ”I won’t tell if you don’t.”

It was as if she’d known he wouldn’t send her back to camp. Immediately, she began to search. When she winced, he grimaced with her. Her approach was slow and controlled; it seemed she’d already figured out a way to work with her injury. Raventail watched with pride as, after a short struggle, the golden tabby returned with her prize. ”Nice catch,” he said, nudging her undamaged side gently, ”even if it is a lizard.” He remembered her distaste for them on their first day of training. Some things never changed. It joined the pile of prey he’d begun to assemble, and he wondered, did foxes eat lizards?

Raventail opened his mouth (maybe to ask, maybe for something else; he was only half-sure of what he wanted to say), and a previously unnoticed scent caught his attention. Lizard, yes—a live one, somewhat further away. Surely anything fit for a cat would be fit for a fox, too. ”Watch these,” he muttered, tilting his head toward the rabbits resting at Goldengale’s paws. Then he was off, scanning the ground in pursuit of smooth scales.

He did not find the lizard; it was more like the lizard found him. Midstep, he heard the sound of something scampering away, and squinted just in time to see a flash of a long, dark tail. Raventail blinked. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to pounce… Oh, mouse-dung. With an exaggerated sigh loud enough for Goldengale to hear from where she was standing, he turned back toward her. Hadn’t she said the fox had come from one of the tunnels near the camp? With two rabbits and a lizard in tow, it was time to steer this patrol toward its true destination. ”Maybe we’ll have better luck closer to camp?”

Raventail attempted to catch Lizard, using 3 stamina. The attempt was a failure, but…

Raventail
100/100 HP
271/280 SP (-3)

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 7

The Windclan deputy had sought a challenge, and there seemed to be an eager opponent lurking in the shadows. For sometime, it merely watched from its place in the tunnel, waiting. For some reason, the cats was collecting rabbits. While the scent was mouthwatering, it was not an easily distracted foe. And then there was another. This one seemed to be weakened but still managed to hobble about with some hidden strength. There was a reason they didn't travel alone. This was it. Sharpened claws dug into the earth in anticipation. With a brief glance at it's companion, it slunk forward ever so slightly.

Shifting shadows.

And then, an explosion. The being fought back the urge to let out a gutteral yowl as it flung itself at the nearest cat, the weaker one. It was not against such a low tactic. Wounded creatures make for an easy kill, or an easy defeat. Depended on how it felt tonight. There was no sound. Just a flicker in Goldengale's sight line, and she was slashed at with relentless strikes of the claws. Horrible, sharpened, and bloodstained claws. It didn't stop. Each slash seemed to only fuel another as the russet-pelted fox attacked. There would be no holding back, that would show weakness. No, there was a mission to do. And it did not accommodate for restraint.

Fox used ??? dealing 15 damage and 20 stamina. Goldengale is stunned for one turn.

Fox
HP: 75/75
SP: 180/200

Goldengale
HP: 25/45 (-15)
SP: 127/160

The russet tail left the tunnel, leaving moonlight to shine in. Prey had been found, and the hunt was to began. The smell of dirt was quickly replaced with that of rye and heather, the tall grass framing the second russet pelt that now weaved through the moor. Darkness blanketed the sky, only the flashing of eyes seemed to display the fear that wafted from their two weaklings of prey. A growl was instinctual, claws sinking into peat soil as the injured cat was shredded by the first fox. Blood sprayed the grass and a shriek ripped through the air. Heavy panting followed, the rush of adrenaline, and then duty had come. The black tom cat made for a more difficult opponent, longer fur and camouflaged in the night. But his scent was just as clear as the others'. He lived and his blood would run red.

Starting off in a mad, terrifying sprint, the russet shape launched itself over tussocks and grass and slammed its claws into the pelt of its prey. Panting, teeth flashing. And then the warm ooze of blood flowed from the tom's pelt. The fox howled, high on the scent as it scoured more marks and slashes, weaving with grace and a desire to kill. Long fangs dripped with red as the cat was ripped from his spot in the ground, thrown to the moor. A yowl followed, sheer rage and power. They were strong, fear-inducing, beasts of the moor. Darkness held their russet pelts. And duty held their claws.

Fox 2 used ??? on Raventail, dealing 15 damage and costing 20 stamina. Raventail is stunned for one turn.

Fox 2
HP: 75/75
SP: 180/200 (-20)

Raventail:
HP: 85/100 (-15)
SP: 280/280

"Perhaps. But a second set of paws is better than none." She returned the smile and gave a small nod. "This will remain our secret, so long as you stay out of trouble that is." His pride warmed her, renewing her confidence in herself. Goldengale flicked her tail to her past mentor's shoulder and purred. "Raventail, I hate to be the one to break the news, but I'm almost completely certain that thy're already dead... They won't be going anywhere on their own." He padded further away into the setting darkness, and his result came in the form of a sigh.

She opened her mouth to respond when rapidly approaching footsteps rushed at her from her injured side, and a pained and surprised yowl tore from her throat as the unknown attacker launched itself into her, sending her tumbling to the ground. Pain shot through her already injured limb, and she whimpered as she stood, trying to pinpoint the location and origin of the attack. Cursing the sun for having set beyond the horizon, while also feeling a bit validated in her concern for Raventail alone, she finally spotted a shape. Fox. What luck. A second set of pawsteps, followed by the sounds of claw through fur, made a wash of relief flash through her.... Until she realized that Raventail was not next to the figure she saw. Eyes searching past it, in the direction the deputy had been, her stomach sank to her paws as she saw another fox locked in battle with Raventail. Her worst fears were realized, there was more than one... And they had managed to get the jump on the cats.

Goldengale is no longer stunned.

Fox
HP: 75/75
SP: 180/200

Goldengale
HP: 25/45
SP: 127/160

Something shot out from the darkness, and Raventail, heart plummeting into his paws, went wide-eyed as he realized his mistake. He’d left Goldengale with both rabbits and the lizard—with the bait. Any sense of triumph at his plan having worked was promptly and utterly dashed by the sight of blood on his former apprentice’s golden pelt. Wasn’t the point of this that no one else would get hurt? ”Goldeng—”

His second mistake: assuming the enemy had come alone. A set of slashes opened across his side, beneath his thick coat, and began to bleed in earnest. His startled cry—for, deputy though he was, he’d never felt anything quite like that before—cut off sharply as he hit the ground. Pain spiked through his chest, leaving his lungs aching for air. Through one half-open eye, he caught sight of the creature that had attacked him and finally managed to make sense of what had happened. Not one fox, but two. If he’d been alone, they would have torn him apart. They could still tear him apart. Worse, they could do the same to Goldengale. Though a noble heart was a wonderful thing to have, it was very rarely safe.

Asking her to run was unthinkable. If she was anything like her mentor, she wouldn't listen; if she did, she would be stumbling across the moor alone, wounded, with a fox on her trail. He had to help her. Now on his feet, the dark tom swayed and blinked away stars. No. Even if he’d thought himself steady enough to charge the other fox, he didn’t want to risk leading his own opponent’s attention elsewhere. An injured rabbit was the easiest target; foxes surely knew that as well as cats did. For now, he could only hope a good fight would keep the fox that had attacked him too occupied to notice Goldengale. ”D-don’t worry,” Raventail coughed, still winded. ”I’ve got this one.”

Raventail is no longer stunned.

Raventail
85/100 HP
271/280 SP

Fox 2
75/75 HP
180/200 SP

Something was wrong. Barleytuft's eyes flashed open in the pale evening light over WindClan's camp. As an early riser, the tom was a somewhat early sleeper - even earlier as he aged, he discovered with amusement and only mild discomfort - but his quick descent into slumber had come to an abrupt halt. The tom lay curled around his mate with his head on his forepaws, and he found his heart pounding with a dreadful intensity, the fur along his neck and shoulders spiked. All his senses were alert, for her knew something had awakened him. The rest of camp had settled into their own restful sleep. Here, it was quiet.

... too quiet.

Cliché, but accurate. The moors were never this silent at night. The senior warrior raised his pale tabby head, ghostly in the dim, unrevealing light of the stars. The vague shapes of his Clanmates rested about him, but immediately he could see one distinct, gut-wrenching absence. "Goldengale," Barleytuft hissed under his breath, but already he was getting to his paws and searching the camp again with desperate eyes. She had been home - he knew she had been. She wasn't now, though, and as the tom neared the entrance of camp he could tell that neither was Raventail.

Maybe the deputy and a strong young warrior like Goldengale could handle themselves, but Barleytuft felt a dark foreboding and necessity urge him forward with haste. He hadn't woken up from a dead sleep feeling like the Dark Forest was on him for no reason; StarClan was telling him something. StarClan was warning him. The senior warrior moved swiftly after them with long, anxious strides. Here and there he scented Raventail and fresh-kill and Goldeneye and... and fox. "Feather-brained fox-hunters," Barleytuft spat, and he began to track their scent as swiftly as he could. They know better than to try to deal with a fox by themselves! When I find them--

A screech of terror and pain split the night, and a small family of quail sprang up from the underbrush, fleeing with a cry.

Barleytuft burst through them like a bolt of lightning in a stormy sky, honed in on the sounds of his daughter and Raventail's struggles with unknown assailants - presumably the foxes. The warrior felt the blood of battle in his limbs already, and as he crested the hill that separated him from his dearest loved ones, the world slowed for just an instant and he let out a war-cry to hearten them and rally them. In the darkness it was hard to distinguish all the details, but Barleytuft knew Goldengale and Raventail like he knew his own stripes, and the thick scent of fox and glint of starlight on russet pelt signified that two of the cursed predators had found the WindClan cats.

And time resumed, and Barleytuft had thrown himself mercilessly at the fox who had threatened his beloved daughter. Though exposing his belly posed a threat to himself, it also brought his claws right up to the fox's face to rip and hook and snare and claw like a rogue at the creature's eyes. If Barleytuft had his way, he would flay these creatures for threatening his family. His yowls of battle held a prayer to StarClan that they would guide his strikes well tonight.

Barleytuft used Rear-up to Slash on Fox 1, using 15 SP and dealing 17 HP.
The very angry dad also used Swift Strike, using 10 SP and dealing 7 HP.

Fox
HP: 51/75
SP: 180/200

Goldengale
HP: 25/45
SP: 127/160

Barleytuft
HP: 100/100
SP: 255/280

It wanted to laugh aloud at their stupidity. The one tried to speak. Words had no purpose in fighting. Thankfully, the injured cat was stunned for a moment. Their skill in battle was something not easily matched. Preparing for a second attack, the fox found itself reeling from a few swift stings of pain. A barrage of snarls tore from its chest as it glared at the newcomer. This one seemed stronger, and sound of mind, driven by anger. There was a brief glance from the edge's of the fox's gaze. Only a flash of white in its companion's direction. A warning. If there was any chance of being injured, a retreat would be necessary, but for now... another blood-chilling snarl and a flash of claws underneath the glow of the moonlight. It dug in, reveling in the resulting blood from the weakened she-cat. Her destruction was sought, craved, and hopefully soon the lust would be satiated. The maneuver should have been slowed by its current state but with such skill it was easily back on all four paws that rooted solidly into the earth.

Fox 1 used Half-Turn Belly Rake on Goldengale, dealing 13 damage and using 20 stamina.

Fox
HP: 51/75
SP: 160/200 (-20)

Goldengale
HP: 12/45 (-13)
SP: 127/160

Barleytuft
HP: 100/100
SP: 255/280