no matter how brave [closed]

It was already so dark. Where had the stars and moon gone? As Goldengale struggled to clear her head of the overwhelming confusion and fear that had accompanied the initial attack, a yowl declaring war sounded from the direction of camp. She knew that voice anywhere, her father, Barleytuft, was coming. He made a series of strikes, but as he stepped back to reevaluate the situation claws were slicing through her soft belly. In the remnants of her daze, the fox had somehow dropped under her and struck in one of the most vulnerable spots. She hopped away on three paws, hissing in pain and surprise, she had never heard of a fox to do that. Perhaps they had always been smarter than initially thought.... Breathless from pain, and with fatigue swiftly setting in, she closed the distance, swiping once with sharp claws before rising on her hind legs and bringing a flurry of scratches along the head and neck of the fox.

Goldengale used Swift Strike, dealing 4 damage. -10 SP.
The injured warrior also used Rear-up to Slash, dealing 11 damage. -15 SP.

Fox
HP: 36/75 (-15)
SP: 160/200

Goldengale
HP: 12/45
SP: 102/160 (-25)

Barleytuft
HP: 100/100
SP: 255/280

The black cat was sent reeling, rolling through the grass. His state of weakness was something of a satisfactory. The fox rounded again, tirelessly searching for that tang of blood. Instinct was something chainless, a wild desire with no morals or grounds. But a tactic, a smooth form, those were the principles that held its pelt together. The drive. Before dipping in for another attack, a cream pelted cat burst into the field, clawing the fox's partner. Frustrated, its eyes flashed between the new target and the wounded one, finding those most vulnerable. However the fury in the cream tabby's eyes was one that had been seen many a time. This cat meant to kill, just as they did. The strong would win victor. And victors did not opt for hesitation.

Deciding on the black tom, the fox started off in a mad sprint, crushing grass stalks and heather, blood stains sprayed onto the foliage. The moor was wet, slick with the crimson that flowed from the cat. The fox slid but adjusted before failing the leap. Now on its hind paws, the beast reared up and lashed out with its front and slammed into the tom, letting out a vicious yowl of triumph.

Fox 2 used Rear-up to Slash on Raventail, dealing 14 damage and costing 15 stamina.

Fox 2
HP: 75/75
SP: 165/200 (-15)

Raventail
HP: 71/100 (-14)
SP: 271/280

The battle cry that rang out from behind them wasn’t that of a fox, but of an ally. It was fury, it was hope. Stars, he owed Barleytuft. He owed him part of every rabbit he ever caught until the end of time. Finally gathering his breath, the dark tom yowled back wordlessly, thank you and we’re alive and let’s take these things down, as Barleytuft threw himself at the fox that had targeted Goldengale. It staggered under his weight, and Raventail’s heart rose just a little. They hadn’t won yet…but maybe they would.

He turned back in time to see his own opponent rear up in front of him. Though he tried to pull back, he wasn’t quite fast enough; it crashed down on top of his head with a mighty yowl. Something cut into his cheek. More blood. Mouth twisting at the taste, Raventail shook off the pain and surged forward to bring his own paws down on the fox’s face. Then he lashed out at its muzzle, digging his claws in and pulling. In most cases, he preferred a less direct fighting style, darting in and out, dodging as many blows as he threw—but he couldn’t risk that now. Not with his apprentice and his good friend fighting nearby. He would end this as fast as he could.

Raventail used Upright Front Paws on Fox 2, dealing 16 damage and using 20 stamina.
Raventail also used Swift Strike, dealing 7 damage and using 10 stamina.

Raventail
71/100 HP
241/280 SP (-30)

Fox 2
52/75 HP (-23)
165/200 SP

A low, furious snarl ripped through Barleytuft's chest as his furious eyes met with the fox's for the briefest moment, the wind of his rush still settling around him. He could see the moment of consideration where it glanced to its partner, but the fox chose to keep fighting. The predator lunged straight towards Goldengale, much to Barleytuft's terror and dismay. The senior warrior let out a snarl of fury, whirling and lashing to try to catch or block the fox before it could dodge around him, but it was too late. The russet creature ripped past him in a flail of claws and fangs, and it threw itself at Goldengale with shrieks of pain. It landed neatly on its feet just a few steps away, leaving an even more battered and exhausted-looking Goldengale hobbling unsteadily away from it.

Barleytuft closed in again, but his daughter reached the fox first, skillfully raking her claws every which way across its ears and face. Perfect, Goldengale, you're doing wonderfully, the fleeting thought praised, and then Barleytuft had swept in to take her place and give her a moment to take a breath. The senior warrior reared up again, this time hook his claws under to try to lash at its throat and neck. Fox fur was thick, but a good enough strike to the windpipe could give he and his daughter the break they needed to chase it off for good. The sounds of Raventail's struggle didn't go unnoticed; Barleytuft could only prey his dear friend and deputy was handling himself for the moment.

Barleytuft used Upright Front Paws on Fox 1, using 20 SP and dealing 16 HP.

Fox
HP: 20/75 (-16)
SP: 160/200

Goldengale
HP: 12/45
SP: 102/160

Barleytuft
HP: 100/100
SP: 235/280

Before it could attack, the other tom was upon it once more with sharp claws and a furious snarl. These cats were fast. Their speed was unmatched even by the skill of the pair that battled relentlessly. There was no doubt now that they were outnumbered. A low hiss left its maw as the claws ripped away fur. Fine. It leaped away, creating a bit of distance before lunging in the direction of the she-cat. Rearing up, heavy paws were brought down on Goldengale's head with an unimaginable amount of fore. At least the one would be down, her strength quickly fading away. That was enough. As the final blow hit, rattling the skull underneath its large paw, the fox pulled back to fix the cats with an enraged glare. There came a yowl from deep within its chest, calling its companion, before it turned and slipped into the mouth of the tunnel, disappearing as quickly as they had come.

Fox 1 used Upright Lock on Goldengale, dealing 14 damage and using 25 stamina. Goldengale is no longer able to fight.

Fox
HP: 20/75
SP: 135/200 (-25)

Goldengale
HP: KO'd (-14)
SP: 102/160

Barleytuft
HP: 100/100
SP: 235/280

She was slowing down, and she knew it. Her last attack had made it painfully obvious, and she saw the attack coming and instantly knew that she would be too late. Still, she tried. It reared back, and she tried to follow suit when that StarClan forsaken leg gave out under her, and she closed her eyes. Hopefully Grousefrost would find it in himself to forgive her. Heavy paws pushed down on her head, and blinding, excruciating pain shot through her head down to her tail. Her jaws opened in a soundless yowl as no sound could be produced, and stars danced in her vision as the fox yowled and darted away, where she didn't know. She wasn't able to see, unable to raise her head from the ground. As the darkness closed around the edges of her vision, she mewled desperately.

"Daddy?... Daddy, are you there?...." She hoped beyond hope that he would hear her and come to her side, offering her comfort as she faced the darkness that threatened to overcome her. This couldn't be the end, not after everything she had worked so hard for.... As she slowly wriggled herself away from the mouth of the unseen tunnel, towards where she had last seen her father, she realized she couldn't feel anything anymore, and felt her consciousness begin to slip away.

The black tom-cat was fast, paw flicking out from the corner of the fox's eye as he pummeled it. Enraged and bloody, the large beast flung himself back into the fray. Aside from the battle going on beneath its paws, the first fox had managed to stop the motions of the golden cat, her still frame sprawled over the dark grass. A bloodlust formed in the beast's throat, wanting to take their dues and leave, however there was more fight yet to be had, not that the russet creature would ever turn down such a thing. This time though, they had made their victory, as seen from the unmoving form. It was only necessary that they dispatch their other two meals. Bobbing under the black tom, the fox exploded upward and threw the cat onto his back, crashing down on top of him and pinning the creature to the grass, jaws clasped around his neck. The fox's claws churned at the cat's belly. The tang of blood was tantalizing, and the smell of fear only furthered the fox's drive. However the fox's companion let out a calling yowl, sinking back into the mist as they had drawn the blood they craved so deeply. Following orders, the second beast retreated as well, disappearing with as much grace as the night itself. And then they were gone, chaos in their tracks, and yet untrackable.

Fox 2 used Belly Rake on Raventail, dealing 14 damage and costing 10 stamina.

Fox 2
HP: 52/75
SP: 155/200 (-10)

Raventail
HP: 57/100 (-14)
SP: 241/280

He wasn’t fast enough. As another cry, this one victorious, rose above the cacophony, Raventail glanced over without thinking to see the still frame of his former apprentice. No, not still. As he stared, forgetting his own opponent, he realized she was moving just enough. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. Injured or not, she was too smart to get herself killed going after her rabbit-brained mentor; he refused to imagine it. Even so, she wasn’t out of danger. What if the foxes dragged her into the tunnels? Looking back, he realized he’d missed where the first fox had gone— And the other one was on top of him again, pinning him flat against the grass, because he apparently hadn’t learned there was no worse place for distraction than the battlefield. His fear and anger were dragged underneath by a wave of pain. When he tried to pull away, he became acutely aware of the teeth jabbing into his skin. The fox could rip his throat out easier than he could break a bird’s neck. He froze, eyes locked on what little of the fox he could see from below, mind racing to find a solution that wouldn’t end with him dying just yet.

Then the fox let go.

Scrambling upward, Raventail took a few staggering steps toward where he’d seen the last hints of russet fur vanish into the night. With how hard he was shaking, it was a doomed venture from the start. WindClan’s speed had deserted him. He wanted to yowl after the foxes, dare them to finish what they’d started, the cowards—

Running off alone had gotten them into this mess. No one else was supposed to get hurt. The dark tom looked over his shoulder at his Clanmates, chest heaving, and felt cold guilt coil in his stomach as he wondered if this ever could have ended differently. That, more than any logic, kept him rooted. His face stung. His throat stung. He picked his way through the grass to Goldengale’s side, watching, tense, until his eyes tracked the rise and fall of her chest; at that, his legs gave way, and he slid down until he was sitting. As long as she breathed, Aspenheart could help her. Neither she nor Barleytuft would die for his recklessness tonight. Barleytuft. Stars, he couldn't look at him.

Barleytuft was confused when the fox leapt away, a powerful bound that took it out of his grasp. For a heartbeat he dared to hope that, perhaps, it was fleeing; after all, the senior warrior could feel the clumps of flesh and fur caking his claws. What it did, however, was more frightening than anything Barleytuft had ever before experience from a predator: it had planned. It removed itself from the vicious father's reach so that it could race at Goldengale unhindered. "No, you monster!" he snarled, but he couldn't close the gap and attack before the fox had reared and slammed its paws full-force into his weakening daughter's head.

Watching Goldengale's face twist with debilitating pain as she was slammed to the earth could've broken Barleytuft if he weren't already tearing after the fox as it now, after dealing the last blow, fled the scene. The pale warrior's claws were raking at its haunches, but it was too fast and too far ahead. Barleytuft heard crashing and saw Raventail's foe fleeing as well. It rushed past and disappeared into the tunnel from where they had likely come, leaving a bloody, battered, and bewildered trio of WindClan cats alone and abandoned on the moor. The warrior's vengeful spirit and adrenaline-filled body urged him to chase them straight to the Dark Forest.

"Daddy?... Daddy, are you there?" Goldengale's weak voice whimpered, and immediately his bloodlust vanished and was replaced by fear and love and devotion.

Barleytuft whipped around and immediately raced to his pale golden tabby daughter's side where she had struggled feebly towards him before collapsing. "Kitten! Golden, my kit, I'm here," he rasped hoarsely as he immediately rushed to crouch beside her, gently nudging her face with his paws. "I-It's gonna be okay, kitten, I'm here. I'll take care of you." I can't do anything out here, he thought desperately, and angrily - why couldn't StarClan have given him some medical knowledge, too? In the dim light he could see blood pulsing from wounds on her head. Immediately Barleytuft was looking desperately for Raventail. The dark tom sat motionless nearby, blank eyes staring at Goldengale.

"Raventail... Are you hurt?" Barleytuft asked, staring at the deputy for a moment before turning and beginning to nose and nudge his daughter to find the best way to pick her up and carry her home. "We need to get out of here. It's not safe; Goldengale needs help."

Goldengale groaned in pain as she saw a shadowy figure nearby that her father's voice emanated from. On the other side sat another dark figure, and she tried desperately to figure out who it could be. Raventail, perhaps... There was no stars in their pelt... Or was there? No, surely that was the light from her eyes, or the stars far above her head. Which way was up and which was down? The ground had lost it's grip on her, and she felt suspended, like she was a leaf floating in the breeze. A quiet chirping noise came as she heard Barleytuft's voice again, and feeling like she was hearing herself through a tunnel she mewed back. "It's alright daddy, I'm okay. I'm just tired, that's all." And with that the world faded into darkness as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Barleytuft’s voice breached his focus. One of Raventail’s ears twitched to show he’d heard. Several more moments passed before it occurred to him that what Barleytuft had actually said was a question, which meant he probably needed to answer. ”Are you hurt?” The lines on his underbelly were raw and red and open; as he shifted, they opened further still. He smothered a hiss halfway up his throat. ”Nothing major.” A few scratches wouldn’t kill him. Putting his complaints on hold until Aspenheart was done shoving herbs under their noses was the least he could do.

Finally, the dark tom gathered his courage and looked away from Goldengale. Where he expected to find anger in Barleytuft’s face, he saw only love and fear for the warrior lying half-awake beneath them. That was somehow worse. What Barleytuft lacked in medical knowledge, he had in experience, at least as far as Raventail saw it; his worry amplified Raventail’s own. ”I know,” Raventail said, averting his eyes. ”I know.”

Already he could tell he wouldn’t be sprinting back to camp for help or reinforcements. They would have to rely on luck and the foxes’ unwillingness to cross them again so soon. A terrible possibility jumped to the forefront of Raventail’s mind, and he hesitated just long enough to think, Please, please let there be only two of them. He spared one last glance at Goldengale, who was well and truly unconscious. Then he pushed himself up with a grimace, nose pointed toward WindClan's camp. ”Go on ahead. I don’t think I can run, exactly, but don't worry, I'll keep up.” What he wanted was to apologize, but Goldengale's safety came first; in that, he and Barleytuft were almost certainly of one mind.