they say pain is a prison, let me out of my cell

It was late. Or perhaps early. It was hard for Wolfcall to tell anymore. It had been days. One? Two? Three? He wasn't sure. It didn't matter. The fire still had possession of SkyClan's territory, the river was still dry and useless, half his family was still missing, and the reality of that had only just started to hit him. Yeah, the majority of the clan was safe. They were fed, and sheltered, and they'd had no problems since coming here, but somehow he still felt like a failure.

If Foxfire had done what the leader had instructed him to, and ran to warn ThunderClan, he was probably safe. That was a relief, one less weight on his shoulders, but regardless he wasn't here, wasn't at Wolfcall's side to support him like he'd always done, as a mentor, a friend, a brother... to lend a shoulder or a kind word or a voice of reason. Foxfire would tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have predicted this, or done anything different. Murkpelt would, too, if she were here. She'd always been a good mother to him, to his siblings. She'd supported him and been there for him when he needed her, and he'd tried to do the same when she needed him after Spottedstar ended their relationship. She was hurt before the fire, crippled in the medicine den... his father had gone back to help her. And now both of them were missing.

His beloved daughter, Mistrain, was missing too. He could have sworn he noticed her pelt among the cats who had evacuated the camp, but in between then, and making it to Twolegplace, she'd simply... vanished. Maybe he'd been wrong, maybe he'd mistaken someone else and she'd never made it out... that very thought caused a pain so deep in his chest that for a moment it was hard to breathe, but immediately he dismissed it. No, Mistrain was young, she was smart. She'd gotten out, been separated from them, and was holding out somewhere safe for them to find her. That much he was sure of.

The dark pelted tom lay, curled in the darkest, tightest corner of the ruined Twoleg nest, his face tucked under his paws. He was as far away from the others as he could hope to be, both physically and emotionally, as he had been since coming here. Orders to hunt, to guard, were given, but otherwise Wolfcall had just been... distant. It was the only way he could cope. The clan needed him right now, and he couldn't afford to show weakness, he couldn't afford to let on that he was barely keeping his head above water. Because with Spottedstar gone, right now he was their leader, as much as he didn't want to be, as much as he hoped that -star never got tacked on to the end of his name, right now the clan was his to lead, and protect, and provide for. Until Spottedstar, who he had no doubt would return to them, did so, SkyClan belonged to Wolfcall. And if the dam that held back his hopelessness and sorrow broke, the entire clan would fall apart. He couldn't let that happen.

Bloodstrike's scent washed over him as he lay there, movement near the entrance of the "den" implying that his son had just entered. Wolfcall had been unfair to him, too... cold, unapproachable, but every time he looked at the wounds on Bloodstrike's face, the ones that he had put there in his fit of desperation to return to the camp, he felt nothing but shame and hatred, for himself. He'd have to mend that bridge, eventually, but where to start?

Wolfcall sighed, forcing his eyes open and turning them towards the faint sunlight that streamed inside. So it was early. Just past dawn. Reluctantly, he forced himself to his paws, sweeping his gaze across the cats that were gathered there. Most were asleep. Bloodstrike was not, and as Wolfcall met his gaze, he jerked his chin towards the entrance, a "follow me" gesture meant to not wake the rest of the clan with their chatter. Without waiting for a response, he quit the "den" and emerged into the outside world. Wolfcall made his way across their little patch of claimed territory, to a safe distance where they could speak without being interrupted. "We should check the borders," he told him, no trace of anything but formality in the deputy's voice. "Gather Smokefeather... and Beechpaw." He hesitated a moment, and then added: "Dawnpaw, too. I imagine he has plenty of energy to run off."

Bloodstrike had laid down carefully and had been about to close his eyes when Wolfcall approached. His head lifted to meet the yellow eyes of his father with his green ones. At the "follow me" gesture, concern crept in around the edges of Bloodstrike's conscience. He stood and silently followed, though his eyes had a cold and distant look in them. His brain had shut him down to be numb, his apparent way of dealing with death in the eyes of the public. It suited him and his own needs just fine. He didn't want anyone to see his weaknesses, even if it was reasonable and acceptable to the clan that he would be in mourning over his sister. Once outside, he nodded once at the deputy's instructions and pivoted on his heel to retrieve his mate, Dawnpaw and Beechpaw.

Something cold settled in his chest and his fur bristled... he halted himself just in front of Smokefeather as this unsettling and unwelcome feeling came at him out of nowhere. He could only describe it as a bird... like an owl had swooped in silently and buried it's talons deep under his fur. What was going on?

"Smokefeather," He whispered softly in her ear. "Wolfcall would like to see us. Will you get Beechpaw as well?" He saw her stir enough to know that she was awake. Satisfied and content to allow her to get to her feet in her own time, he left her to go retrieve his son. Bloodstrike didn't bother looking in the new "apprentice den". Dawnpaw was usually up early, sitting on the bricks and rubble on the edges of their new home.

"Dawnpaw," Bloodstrike called to him softly. The white cat turned to look at him, a blank expression with maybe a hunt of annoyance. What could he possibly have been doing up there that would warrant such a glance? Bloodstrike narrowed his eyes back at him, a silent, but brief warning to him to just obey.

"Yes, dad?" Dawnpaw asked, though his voice carefully concealed his emotions. Whatever was going on in his son's head, he wasn't about to voice it.

"Wolfcall needs us. We'll meet your mother and Beechpaw with him. Follow." Bloodstrike turned on his heel and heard Dawnpaw's paws thump against the stone floor. He was following. Good.

Bloodstrike returned to Wolfcall has another chill ripped through his back and caused his fur to stand on end again. He shook his head to clear it, hoping it wasn't too terribly obvious. His heart was pounding. His head felt like it was swimming...

Pull yourself together Blood... He thought to himself as he waited for Smokefeather and Beechpaw to arrive as well.

The constant training and patrolling that Smokefeather had been doing since they'd settled into twolegplace was finally catching up with her, it seemed. She'd actually been asleep for a few hours, long-fur stirring slightly being the only indication that the pale tortoiseshell breathed.

Smokefeather stirred as Bloodstrike's voice broke through her rest, blinking blearily up at the dark tom for a moment before his words registered. When they did, she simply nodded at him and rose, still-burned pawpads turning in search of her daughter. She was still bone-tired, but being productive was better than sitting idle. Better than being allowed to think about everything that had happened recently.

Beechpaw wasn't hard to find, pale silver and white fur standing out in the gloom, and Smokefeather gently prodded the apprentice awake. "Beechpaw, wake up." Smokefeather said softly. Her voice rasped painfully in her throat, but her tone was still brisk enough to have Beechpaw glancing up at her mother in confusion. Smokefeather said nothing, merely turned and gestured for Beechpaw to follow as she made her way to where the others stood.

Smokefeather pressed her pelt against Bloodstrike for no longer than a heartbeat before she stepped away, giving the dark tom a pointed look. She could tell he was off, but wouldn't ask him about anything now. Later, though... Later they were going to talk.

Beechpaw trailed after her mother, scowl hardly lifting as she glanced up at Wolfcall. He was her mentor. For the moment, at least. She wanted to tell him that she had decided that she would remain his apprentice after all. It was only natural, really. Sagelight couldn't have picked a worse cat to be his apprentice if he'd tried and every single cat in this little gathering knew it. And yet it was glaringly obvious that Sagelight needed help. That the clan needed help. She'd been herb hunting with the old medicine cat and had little clue how to feel about it. It didn't seem natural at all to her. Sagelight had said that she needed to train but... Was healing really what she was meant to do when all she seemed capable of was fighting? Sagelight had said Starclan wanted her to be his apprentice, and she still didn't want to believe it. The more time went on, the less certain she was about anything. While her face remained a scowl, that uncertainty likely still showed in her dark eyes.

The sight of Smokefeather and Bloodstrike, both singed and exhausted in the early morning light, was enough to make Wolfcall almost order them both back to the den, to sleep. But the reality was, they were both some of SkyClan's most capable warriors, and right now the clan needed all the paws they could get on the ground. Hunting hadn't been easy here, and the entirety of SkyClan was ragged and thin from lack of both food, water, and an abundance of stress. The deputy turned away from his family and closed his eyes for just a moment, forcing the stinging in his eyes to dissipate before he opened them once more. He didn't speak as he led them away, too afraid his voice would crack, would leak his many insecurities for all to see. Instead, Wolfcall waved his tail in a "follow me" and led them away from their makeshift camp.

Fire still burned on the edges of the forest - not a raging inferno like the one that had chased them from camp, but still enough for any smart cat (or creature for that matter) to steer well clear of. Tall, blackened trees, stripped of their foliage by the blaze, reached high into the sky, but offered no shelter to the ground beneath as they had before. There was nowhere for prey to live, and nowhere for cats to stalk them. The deputy's hopes that they could return to their territory dwindled with every step further he took along the border. How could they ever recover from this? How could they go home when there was no home to go to?

He was so caught up in his own despair that Wolfcall had been paying less attention to the ground in front of him, and when he stumbled, his paw not finding purchase where he should have, that initially he thought he'd just been clumsy, misjudged a step. But as he recovered, glancing down at the ground, he realized he was wrong. He'd stepped in a paw print. A very, very large paw print. "Watch your step, there's-" he looked over his shoulder, words dying in his throat, amber eyes widening in surprise and horror.

Behind the procession of cats, several fox-lengths away from them near the border of a Twoleg garden, a massive, shaggy behemoth of a dog stood. A thin string of drool dropped lazily from its open jowls, from which rumbled a quiet, challenging growl, and its nose quivered, beady eyes flicking from cat to cat as if deciding which one would be his prey.

Wolfcall was frozen, refusing to look away from the creature and refusing to move in case it triggered the predator response in the dog and caused it to attack. He felt his heart in his throat, and every muscle in his body begged him to turn and flee, that there was no way they would ever be victorious against this leviathan of a dog. But his decision was made for him as it suddenly decided to lunge, no single cat a target but just a few bounds and wide sweep of his massive jaws. Wolfcall yowled a warning, turning to get out of the way but was a hair too late, and he felt the dog's teeth close around his torso, its head shaking viciously as it thrashed him between a set of iron jaws.

Dog used Thrash, dealing 20 damage and costing 20 stamina. Wolfcall is stunned for 2 turns.

Dog:
150/150 HP
330/350 HP (-20)

Wolfcall:
80/100 HP (-20)
280/280 SP

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 4

After a bit of traveling and letting himself just think for a moment, Bloodstrike realized what the cold tension had been. His conversations with Smokefeather... he didn't believe she would ever tell anyone about what he confided in her regarding Spottedstar, but there was always a chance someone would find out. Paranoia crept in.... Bloodstrike stepped slower than normal, allowing himself to fall behind a bit. His green eyes, as cold and as hard as a peridot gem that they somewhat resembled, landed on Wolfcall. Are you leading our family to their deaths? Claws belonging to an entity of the Dark Forest slowly enclosed around Bloodstrike's head and neck, it felt like. Bloodstrike felt that he had ice in his gut and flames roaring through his veins. His expression remained blank, but there was no mistaking the intense focus of a hunter's stare, should anyone look back and notice it.

I love you, He thought coldly to himself. But I will not hesitate to drain your life from your body if you, out of duty to the clan, try to kill me, my mate or my kits... Wolfcall suddenly faltered and like a rock crashing through glass, Bloodstrike was suddenly snapped out of his madness. Concern washed over where the smoldering, paranoid rage had been just an instant before. Wolfcall turned and spoke, but just as suddenly as he had, his voice cut off and he froze in place. Bloodstrike followed his eyes, landing on something that looked like it should not be part of this world. He was moving slowly, but with confidence, as he put himself between the lion-dog and his family. The only one somewhat out in the open was Wolfcall.

The dog charged forward and Bloodstrike dropped into a defensive fighting stance in response, though a terror like nothing he had ever felt before locked his limbs in place. As the dog barreled closer, Bloodstrike's feet found their ability to move again and he leaped aside, air from the dog's head brushing against his pelt. The dog's jaws crushed closed over Wolfcall's body, and all negative thoughts from before were banished from Bloodstrike's being. His father was in danger. His father may die.

"Apprentices, attack the belly!" Bloodstrike instinctively bellowed orders, forcing his fears and doubts to stay out of his head while it was very clear that action needed to be taken. Bloodstrike rushed forward while the dog's jaws were busy destroying his father, intending to rip the eyes of the beast right out of their sockets.

"Smokefeather, the hind legs!" He managed to yowl out right before he leaped up to attack his target. He figured Smokefeather would understood that he meant to go for the very vascular insides of the hind legs in an attempt to at least weaken the monster from bloodloss. She had surely hunted enough prey and fought enough other creatures to know where to strike. There was no way they were going to get through all of that fur on the dog's body, let alone the fat and bone. So the belly, the less densely furred legs, and the eyes and nose was all he could hope for.

Bloodstrike used Leap and Hold, dealing 11 damage and -10SP

Bloodstrike
60HP / 190SP (-10SP)

Dog
Stunned for 2 Turns
139HP / 330SP (-11HP)



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dawnpaw had stared at the ground for most of the trip, hardly noticing or caring about what was going on around him. It wasn't until well into the trip that he nearly ran right smack into Wolfcall when he stopped. Then tension in the air came so suddenly and with such intensity, Dawnpaw's fur stood on end before he even noticed the dog. His eyes landed on one of the most terrifying things he'd ever seen in his life. He too, froze in place, his mouthy dry and throat hard, unable to speak. The dog charged. Dawnpaw didn't have the same problem as his father and grandfather. His limbs worked fine, and he got well out of the way of the snarling beast's jaws. His eyes widened as the lion-dog scooped the deputy up into his mouth and thrashed it's head around violently. The clan had already lost their leader.... now their deputy too?

Bloodstrike charged forward and Dawnpaw could hardly believe his eyes. His dad was really going to try to fight that thing??? As Bloodstrike barked orders, Dawnpaw hesitated.

"Are you crazy????" He practically screeched as fresh terror ripped through him. Still, his eyes went to the dog's belly. The fur wasn't so thick there... maybe it would be enough to save Wolfcall. Despite his fear and his overwhelming doubt, Dawnpaw rushed forward, throwing all caution to the wind, and leaped up onto the dog's belly and stuck there like velcro. Furiously and driven by mind-numbing terror, Dawnpaw scrabbled his back claws at the dog's belly, screwing his eyes shut and hoping for a miracle.

Dawnpaw used Belly Rake, dealing 7 damage and -10SP

Dawnpaw
20HP / 70SP (-10SP)

Dog
132HP / 330SP (-7HP)

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 6

Smokefeather and Beechpaw followed the patrol in silence, both she-cats' gazes sweeping over the burnt forest in dismay occasionally. Beechpaw seemed too wrapped up in her own thoughts to take much note of her parents, and while Smokefeather wondered what was bothering the tall apprentice, she lacked the energy to ask. So her gray-green eyes forward, though her ears twitched back at the ever-present smoke that still hung heavy in the air.

Smokefeather felt her fur bristle as Wolfcall suddenly stopped short, and her stomach dropped when she saw why. Big dog... Massive dog. And then it lunged for Wolfcall, catching their deputy and shaking him roughly.

Skyclan couldn't afford to lose Wolfcall, and as her mate snapped orders and leapt for the dog, Smokefeather would not leave him to fight the creature alone. Darting behind the massive creature, Smokefeather reared up onto her hind legs to slash furiously, unsheathed claws ripping into flesh.

Beechpaw immediately drew back, and by the time her father had told the apprentices to go for the belly she'd already been moving. She'd been in her fair share of fights recently, and her brain was currently warning her that this was an absolutely terrible idea and that she should just run, but the dog had gotten to her mentor, or who was her mentor for the moment. As the days wore on and the apprentice pulled double duty for Sagelight, she was less sure about what either of them were. She was sure that Wolfcall wasn't someone she wanted to see hurt, and neither were the rest of her family, even Dawnpaw.

Smokefeather used Rear-Up To Slash, doing -11 damage and costing -15sp.

Beechpaw used Belly Rake, doing -7 damage and costing -10sp.

Smokefeather
45 / 45 hp
145 / 160 sp (160 - 15)

Beechpaw
20 / 20 hp
70 / 80 sp (80 - 10)

Dog -pinned for 2 turns because Bloodstrike's lucky LAH-
114 / 150 hp (132 - 11 - 7)
330 / 350 sp

Blood roared in his head, both metaphorically, and literally. He could hear his son's bellowed commands over the rush of his pulse, beating, thud-thump, thud-thump, thud-thump between his ears. Time seemed to move in slow motion, and the only thing present in this whirlwind of chaos and destruction was pain. The deputy's vision went black along the edges, his eyes half-lidded as the monster dog slung him up into the air with another shake of its mighty head. He hit the ground hard, but had no air in his lungs to knock out. He tried to lift his head, the instinct in him instructing, demanding, pleading, move, idiot, move - if you stay here you're good as dead.

The dog, not finished playing with its prey, was thundering towards him even as he landed upon the edges of the scorched forest, deadly intent in its gaze. Wolfcall's eyes closed. He couldn't move if he wanted to. Hopefully, when the dog killed him it would be sated long enough for his family to escape.

*

It had been too long since he'd tasted cat. Usually, they saw him coming, and he was too slow to chase all but the slowest of felines. But these had been caught off guard, hadn't smelled him because of the smoke and ash, and he was going to take advantage. The black cat had been his unlucky victim, and as he tossed the small creature into the air, he watched it thud against the earth, already looking to be in the throes of death. The dog grinned a lupine grin, fangs flashing white against the black of his gums, and went to close the distance between him and his prey.

But the yowling of the other cats, who he'd expected to flee in his wake, made him hesitate. The dog turned to look, just as the largest of them leaped and connected with his face, thorn-claws rending his muzzle and nose. The smell of his own blood now joined that of the black cat's, and the dog, completely unprepared for a multi-directional assault as the other three cats now joined in, writhed and thrashed in anger and confusion, a snarl ripping from his bloodied muzzle, but unable to connect with any of them.

Wolfcall is stunned for this turn. Dog is stunned for this turn, and one more.

Dog:
114/150 SP
330/350 SP

Wolfcall:
80/100 HP
280/280 SP

Bloodstrike:
60/60 HP
190/200 SP

Dawnpaw:
20/20 HP
70/80 SP

Smokefeather:
45/45 HP
145/160 SP

Beechpaw:
20/20 HP
70/80 SP

Bloodstrike furiously buried his claws into the dog's face as deep as they could possibly go, raking and slashing and stabbing over and over. He was managing to keep his balance on the dog's face so far, seeking with desperation to land a brutal claw attack to the dog's eyes and blind it. As the dog thrashed and flailed in rage an confusion, Bloodstrike managed to catch glimpses of the rest of his family doing their part to defend the clan. Good. No one in Skyclan would be permitted to run ever again, not under his watch. If we die today, then we shall all die together! He thought to himself, both with fear for his family's safety as well as pride that they were coordinating and assisting each other in the assault. Skyclan doesn't run. Do you hear me Starclan? Skyclan will have new leadership one day and we will be the most feared and respected of the clans if it kills me.

"Great! Do not yield!" Bloodstrike bellowed encouragingly to "his" warriors, since the deputy was down for the moment and Spottedstar was... well who cared?

Bloodstrike continues his Leap and Hold, dealing 11 damage.

Bloodstrike
60HP / 190SP

Dog
Stunned for 1 more turn
103HP / 330SP (-11HP)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawnpaw was absolutely convinced of one thing: His dad was insane. This entire plan had been insane. Yet... the dog seemed to be at a loss of what to do. How was this possible? Couldn't it just turn around and start munching? Bloodstrike's voice rang out over the chaos, encouraging everyone to continue. Was this bravery? Was this foolishness? Dawnpaw's eyes glanced over to Wolfcall, curious to see if this was even logical to do; logical to continue to assault. There was blood on the deputy and he certainly looked... dazed at the very least... but his injuries didn't look lethal necessarily. Maybe Bloodstrike's quick reactions had saved the deputy after all. If only Wolfcall could get up and run, or help in the assault.

Obeying his father for now, Dawnpaw's claws dug even more fiercely into the dog's belly.

Dawnpaw used Belly Rake, dealing 7 damage and -10SP

Dawnpaw
20HP / 60SP (-10SP)

Dog
96HP / 330SP (-7HP)

Was this a bad idea? Yes. Stars, fighting a dog was bad enough. Fighting a dog this large? Insanity. Yet Smokefeather would do so happily to protect her family. She reared up, slashing furiously as the dog's legs. So far they'd done damage to the thing, and with the way she was currently aiming to shred the dog's legs into ribbons, that would at least slow it down somewhat if it tried to give chase. Hopefully it would have the same trouble that a cat would if their hind legs were mangled, and hesitate to put weight on it. Her gaze flicked briefly to Wolfcall, checking that the deputy was okay. He was bloodied, stunned, but they'd managed to get the dog away from him at least. Hopefully they'd gotten the dog away before it had done any lasting damage. Smokefeather's eyes briefly flicked to the apprentices. They were doing okay... For the moment. But if... when Bloodstrike started slipping, she knew she'd have to move quickly.

Beechpaw sank her claws in further, ripping at the dog's belly viciously as it thrashed. She briefly heard her father's voice once more, telling them not to yield. As if she would do so when the dog was right there, having already tossed Wolfcall aside like he was a dead mouse? When her idiot furball brother was opposite her, also slashing at the dog's exposed belly? When Bloodstrike was also being an idiot furball by leading this fight? No, she would not yield and leave her clanmates.

Smokefeather uses Upright Front Paws, doing -11 damage and costing -20sp.

Beechpaw used Belly Rake, doing -7 damage and costing -10sp.

Smokefeather
45 / 45 hp
125 / 160 sp (145 - 20)

Beechpaw
20 / 20 hp
60 / 80 sp (70 - 10)

Dog -pinned-
78 / 150 hp (96 - 11 - 7)
330 / 350 sp

The blow he was expecting never came, the thunderous pawsteps of the canine stopping in their tracks. He heard the beast cry out in pain, heard the yowls of his family as the scent of blood thickened in the air. Wolfcall opened his eyes. The sight he was greeted with was one that both awed him and sent shivers of dread down his spine. They were fighting it. Blood, Smoke, Beech, and Dawn, all clinging to various parts of the behemoth's form, scratching and biting whatever they could reach.

Part of him was impressed, and even warmed by their devotion. They had stopped what almost certainly would have been his death, but he was also infuriated by their outright lack of common sense. The apprentices were no more than a single mouthful for this animal, and right now they had it on the ropes, but how long would that last?

The deputy ached everywhere, and he felt the warmth of his own blood pooling around his belly. The extent of the wounds were uncertain to him, he just knew it hurt, and that he wanted so badly to sleep it off, right here in the grass. Was that a bad idea? Probably. Wolfcall struggled to his paws, swaying on the spot. His vision blurred for a moment as fresh waves of pain washed over him. A grinding sound accompanied the blinding pain in his torso, the sign of a broken rib if he had to guess. Gnashing his teeth in anger, he stumbled towards the chaos.

Wolfcall's first instinct was to demand that they abandon the fight and flee back to camp - the dog was clearly already regretting this engagement, and would likely be reluctant to give chase. But if there was one thing in this world that he knew without certainty, it was that Bloodstrike was every bit as stubborn, hardheaded, and reckless as his grandfather. If he gave the command to disengage, Bloodstrike would resist, and arguing the cause would cost precious time and attention that may very well give the upper paw back to the dog. The only thing to do, then, was to join in, and hope that the hound realize it'd bitten off more than it could chew.

He lurched forward with a fearsome yowl, every hair on his pelt standing on end, and looked for an opening. The dog was distracted, with cats clinging to him from all sides. The dog reared up on to its hind legs, tossing its head wildly in an attempt to dislodge Bloodstrike from its face, and Wolfcall darted in, sinking his teeth into the dog's now-exposed armpit.

*

Never in his life had the dog had prey fight him so severely. Cats were small, and they were weak - they should have run when he had the black cat in his jaws. Snarling, he reared up only to have another fierce pain as the black cat began an assault as well. This was too much. This wasn't right. These weren't normal cats!

Wolfcall used Upright Lock on Dog, dealing 17 damage and costing 25 SP. Dog is stunned for this turn.

Dog:
61/150 SP
330/350 SP

Wolfcall:
80/100 HP
255/280 SP

Bloodstrike:
60/60 HP
190/200 SP

Dawnpaw:
20/20 HP
60/80 SP

Smokefeather:
45/45 HP
125/160 SP

Beechpaw:
20/20 HP
60/80 SP

Bloodstrike wasn't sure how much time had passed at this point, but he was surprised that he didn't feel tired at all. He could easily keep fighting, but he didn't know how the others were faring. A flash of black raced toward the dog, and a smile crept across his face. His father was alright, and back in action. He strained his ears to listen for orders, but upon hearing none, Bloodstrike continued to command. His claws buried into the dog's face over and over, the dog's blood now soaking into the fur on his toes and around his muzzle when he took an occasional bite. The blood on the dog's face was beginning to make it slippery for the cat. Combine that with how much blood was on his feet now, and he had no choice but to let go.

"Smokefeather take over! I'm disengaging! The rest of you continue!"

Once he was sure Smokefeather heard his orders, Bloodstrike held on until the dog tossed it's head upward before he kicked off of the bridge of the beast's nose. He had no doubt that Smokefeather had already been waiting for her moment to strike. Bloodstrike twisted his body in the air until he could land on his feet. He landed on dirt, his knees bending upon impact, but immediately he charge forward to continue the assault. Beechpaw and Dawnpaw were doing their part, and now he went straight for the already slashed hind legs of the dog where Smokefeather had been previously. With all of the strength and fury he could muster, Bloodstrike intended to dig into the dog's flesh as if it were dirt, seeking to sever the major vein that he knew ran through the back of it's leg and bleed the dog to death.

Bloodstrike used Rending Front Paws, dealing 13 damage and -25 SP

Bloodstrike
60HP / 165SP (-25SP)

Dog
48HP / 330SP (-13HP)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawnpaw could feel his muscles getting tired from his constant scrabbling against the dog's belly. And his own stomach was beginning to hurt from the effort. Not his organ, but his core muscles. The dog's rearing up and moving around made it easier at times and harder at others for his continued assault. But Beechpaw was still doing it, and he'd be stars-cursed if he was going to quit before she did.

Dawnpaw used belly rake, dealing 7 damage and -10SP

Dawnpaw
20HP / 50SP (-10SP)

Dog
41HP / 330SP (-7HP)

As Smokefeather had thought, Bloodstrike couldn't hold his position forever. She was also thinking that this couldn't be happening. Were they really fighting a beast this big? Still, there was no other option that the mottled she-cat would consider. Protecting her family was more important than anything else.

At Bloodstrike's word, Smokefeather proceeded to do what Skyclan did best. There was no time to step back and take a running leap, so she sank her claws into the dog's furry hide and pulled herself up. On it's back now, she began to rake at the beast even more, intending to do as much damage as she could. Wolfcall had managed to get to his feet and was attacking the dog now too. Part of her was relieved that the deputy didn't seem too badly hurt, or maybe it was rage and the desire to protect family that drove him on.

---

Beechpaw snarled, continuing to rake her claws wherever she could reach the dog. This was insanity, plain and simple. But she would not stop until her family was safe. She could yell at the stupid furballs later, if they survived this.

Smokefeather uses Leap and Hold, doing -9 damage and costing -10sp. LAH effect dice: 1,2,3: pinned for 1 turn. 4,5,6: damage+pin for 2 turns. Rolled 4, dog is pinned for 2 turns!

Beechpaw used Belly Rake, doing -7 damage and costing -10sp.

Smokefeather
45 / 45 hp
115 / 160 sp (125 - 10)

Beechpaw
20 / 20 hp
50 / 80 sp (60 - 10)

Dog -pinned for 2 turns-
25 / 150 hp (41 - 9 - 7)
330 / 350 sp

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 4