Don't Strike Twice [ThunderClan Sitewide Topic - OPEN]

The sweet chatter of birdsong marked the awakening of the forest, dawn painting the sky in marvelous hues of yellow, orange, and pink. The bright sun had just begun to kiss the canopies of trees overhead, casting long shadows across the forest floor. What sunlight did get past the sparse leaves painted the orange and red leaves blanketing the ground in bright shades, creating an almost eerie sense of peace. The beauty of such a scene would have tricked any passerby into believing that the inhabitants of such a place were well-off, the sense of tranquility comforting anyone who walked the territory.

Reality posed many more threats that didn’t align with such dream-like, imaginary scenarios. Leaf Bare was just on the horizon, the nippy cold getting worse with every passing day. Dwindling prey had instilled a sense of panic in senior warriors who’d experienced painful hunger in years before, and increasing conflict at the borders had caused more tension between the Clans than in moons past.

ThunderClan would be waking soon, including the guards stationed at the camp’s entrance who’d been unable to keep their heavy eyes from closing as the night drug on. It was those guards who were wrenched from their positions first, any sound of alarm suppressed by skilled claws pressed against their throats. An overwhelmingly large number of figures swarmed the camp soon after, invading each den, moving together like a well-oiled machine. Some appeared to be akin to the predators that plagued the Clans for moons on end- foxes, badgers, raccoons, and dogs. Others seemed to be ordinary cats, spreading themselves out across the camp. All of them had one common goal.

No cat was left unattended- every able-bodied warrior, apprentice, and queen was rendered unable to fight, paws pressed against the throats of any who moved even the slightest muscle. Kits and elders were herded together, surrounded on every side so that not a single one could run away. May the powers that be have mercy on any cat that attempted to escape.

In the center of it all stood one cream and tortoiseshell tabby, a smirk plastered onto her face as she watched one of the elders singled out from the rest. A blue-grey tabby, battered and torn by battles of the many moons she’d been among ThunderClan, was brought to Eris’s side. She’d been pushed along by a cat who’d donned the pelt of a fox, something that didn’t seem to phase the she-cat. Once the tabby was by her side and Eris was sure she wouldn’t try to dart away, she addressed the entire Clan. ”Welcome to Asylum, ThunderClan. I heavily advise against fighting, as that will get you nowhere. We have the ranks to stop each and every one of you three times over, and will do so swiftly if the need arises.” The fluffy she-cat mewed with a hint of a threat.

Unsheathing her claws, Eris moved in closer to Dustcloud with expertly precise movements. Her gaze momentarily shifted to the leader’s den, where four of her strongest cats stood, stationed so that Nettlestar would be forced from her nest. She lifted a forepaw so that it was closer to a hunched over Dustcloud’s neck, flexing her claws before resting them against the elderly she-cat’s throat. Then, she addressed Nettlestar directly. ”Why don’t you join me in conversation, Nettlestar, so that we might discuss the terms of ThunderClan’s impending surrender.”

---

It had been a long day of training for Badgerpaw. Shrikesong was a good mentor, a thorough one, and had worked her hard that day, but for some reason, the apprentice found herself unable to sleep. Several hours of restless tossing and turning had driven her outside, to camp, and to the kill-pile, which was pitifully understocked. Badgerpaw gave the pile a haughty sniff before turning away from it with a disappointed flick of her tail. That's when she noticed the intruders.

There were many of them, of all shapes and sizes and pelts streaming through the camp entrance - Badgerpaw shrank down, ducking out of view and plastering herself against the ground. What was going on? Who were these cats? The mottled apprentice wrinkled her nose as their foreign stench invaded her nostrils. These were intruders. Intruders in the ThunderClan camp!

The others were rounded up together, but Badgerpaw thankfully remained undiscovered within the brambles that bordered ThunderClan's camp. She crouched there, waiting, listening, as the cream and tortoiseshell tabby she-cat spoke up. Her jaw dropped at the words that came out of that cat's mouth, and her eyes narrowed. What was she talking about? Badgerpaw's claws extended, itching to punish these interlopers, and the speaker cat's last words finally drew a rage-induced yowl from the apprentice as she charged the nearest Asylum cat. "THUNDERCLAN WILL NEVER SURRENDER!" she squeaked furiously.

Crowcaller, like most of ThunderClan, had been sleeping when the Asylum struck. He was still half-asleep when he stumbled out of the den after the others, shaking his head and trying to clear his sleep-blurred vision. His tail was low and unsure, his ears back, but there was no fight in the ThunderClan warrior as of right now. He would watch and wait. The reckless apprentice charging one of the strange cats was met with an easy grin, and he half-crouched, expecting the clearing to explode in a flurry of claws and fur.

Badgerpaw used Run-and-Tackle on Akhlut, dealing 9 damage and costing 10 stamina.

Ever since she'd known which faction was which within the Asylum, Akhlut had known that she wanted to be a Nightstriker, known for being the toughest, scariest, and strongest cats within the group. She'd been stationed by Nettlestar's den when a tiny voice squeaked near her, and small claws hooked into her pelt, through the husky pup pelt draped across her large frame. The pinpricks of pain that flared up were nothing to the larger-than-average she-cat, and with a snarl, she batted the apprentice away with all of her strength and a large paw, claws scoring deep welts in the dilute calico's skin as the apprentice went flying.
"You're out of your depth, pipsqueak. If you'd like to remain alive, you'd best keep your claws to yourself!"

---

Cherryblossom was rudely awakened by the sensation of a paw pressed onto her throat, and for a moment, the tiny she-cat struggled under the paws of the intruder, before claws dug in and stilled her. She glared up at the cat pinning her down, and lashed her tail, but refused to move as words were yowled form outside the den. Then a yowl of defiance followed by several thuds led the small tabby to gasp, and the claws dug further into her skin, causing her to still once more. She watched on, looking around to see her other Clanmates in a similar predicament to her, and she grit her teeth in dismay.

Pebblepaw couldn't sleep, the young tom was way too excited to do that, so Pebblepaw was awake, outside of camp, he WAS hunting a pesky mouse that he had chased deeper into the forest, but now he was sitting. Pebblepaw had not noticed anything strange until now, he flicked his tail as a scent drifted over his nose. It wasn't a rogue scent, not even a kittypet scent, and it definitely wasn't another clan. His grey ears flicked back. Cats he could FIGHT! He crept back to camp, behind the group of cats. He wasn't well hidden but he was sure the cats couldn't see him.

He looked at the group, they had circled the clan. And who seemed to be the leader of them began mewing at Thunderclan, somewhat aggressively. He watched with worried eyes as he saw a few groups within Thunderclan bundled together. He didn't notice Badgerpaw until now, hiding with... interesting expressions as the leader cat spoke. Pebblepaw then saw the cat prepare to leap. "Badgerpaw-" He didn't get to finish, the she-cat already leaped at the nearest cat.

Uh oh.

Pebblepaw's late warning seemed to have caught the attention of some of the weird cats. He cursed to himself and quietly backed away from the cat in front of him. "Haha..." His ears flicked back and he raised a paw, his claws slowly slid out of the grey fur, but the tom was careful not to attack. I hope Badgerpaw distracts them away from me.
(OOC: Void if Pebblepaw can't be out of camp, I'll edit this later with a new reply. If he is, any Asylum cats feel free to threaten him into going inside of the camp.)

Shadows swirled, glinting eyes in the darkness,  flashing yellow on the edge of sight. Kerath? His son, he'd been there- Whirling, his eyes darted, snowflakes whirling in a chill howl through his pelt, a hint of green eyes glancing back, brown tabby tail flicking away. He breathed - in, out, a prickling sense at the back of his neck, a fear of something unknown, something wrong. They slid, closer, strange shapes, winding, winding... He snarled at them, crouching low, his claws digging into the earth, warm and sticky.

"Dad!"

The call jolted, his focus breaking, a sudden rushing tide crashing over him. Cold waters in his paws, cold waters choking in his throat, dark shadows sliding, sharp flashing teeth opening wide with a snarl-

Awake!

His eyes snapped open, claws leaping from their sheaths, paws hitting the earth before he registered the sounds. Dark shapes above him, around him, grotesque. Focus sharpening, he caught his breath, pelt bristling at the sight of Clanmates pinned, a dark shape stepping menacingly towards him. His lips lifted in a rumbling snarl, his body tensed to protect Batbite beside him.

The only warning was a whisper of movement from behind.

Suddenly, he found himself shoved, yanked like a kit. With a spitting hiss, he twisted, raking claws through a terrifyingly familiar pelt, his mind belatedly realizing it a second later, sudden throat-choking panic rising in every hair. The whole place - Foxes! His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the other sounds, his claws desperately raking, rage choked with fear panting in his breath. A nightmare of sharp pain as his shoulder hit the ground by the entrance, sparks in his vision, more than one set of eyes glaring at him through eye sockets of fox pelts, claws pressed to his throat.

Something warned him not to move, impotent rage shivering through his muscles, the waking nightmare leaving him frozen, ears barely catching a strange cat's voice. Asylum. Nettlestar.

Surrender.

Sheer disbelief broke through the wall of pain, anger, and fear, his head twisting in spite of the claws, a glimpse of more un-cat-like forms stalking through the clearing sending a chill through the one already crawling up his spine. Too many. And then a high-pitched voice screeched, a familiar one, a small form hurtling at one of the monsters. Suddenly, he found himself struggling, hind legs kicking up into the belly of the cat above him, drawing a brief growl and a pinprick of pain against his throat. "Badgerpaw! Stop!"

He felt himself flinch slightly as he glared back up at the... thing... above him, gritting his teeth. It's a cat, foxes don't use their claws, mousebrain! And predators don't work with cats! The mental snarl didn't help the pure adrenaline coursing through his body. "Get off, foxdung pelt!" He spat, eyes flashing. "I don't want death any more than you snakehearts - if me or Nettlestar don't tell them to stand down this whole clearing will be soaked in blood."

---

Is... is this a dream? Sablepaw stumbled out of the apprentice ceremony, her eyes wide, flinching away from a weird form like a cat but not. Like really not. Or a nightmare. She huddled with the others, confusion and bewilderment mixing with the fear fluffing her fur up, her ears flattened. That cat in the middle of the clearing... she - What?! Panic dug her claws into the ground, her head twisting as she glanced around for her family, her parents, Nettlestar. What's going on?

Fear ran like ice through her pelt, but she could also feel anger beneath it, something that flared up in terror as Badgerpaw barreled out of the shadows, her yowl cutting through the clearing in a cry for battle. Lirista coiled herself, eyes wide, ears flattened, her muzzle wrinkling as she bared her teeth. Surely Nettlestar or Minkstream would tell them to fight, they couldn't not fight. These monsters wanted their territory! They couldn't!

For Dock! The thought settled down the terrified tremors in her muscles, her tail twitching behind her, her breath coming quick in her ears as she waited for the signal.

Cedarheart woke up, heart pounding. What was happening? She to get up, to find her kits, but suddenly she felt pressure at her throat, holding her back. She growled, eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" She hissed. She tried to find her kin, and spotted Crowcaller. She looked towards him, reassuringly. Where were the rest of them? She could barely make out who was who, with all of the “Asylum” cats.  Trying to solve the mystery, her mind jumped to the next concludiom. The Righteous Few Were they back? Were they taking the clans again? They didn’t look like Starclan cats, but maybe they had possessed cats....and predators. If they were, this was her fault. She had caused this. Her romance wigh Smallbean, now gone, may have brought them here. She had the urge to strike out, to fight, but she didn’t want anyone getting hurt. Not yet

Daisybloom was much more panicked than most of her clanmates. She usually woke up early, and this morning she saw cats and predators, rushing into camp. She let out a strangled cry, heavily breathing. And then there was a fox, grabbing her mother. She was frozen in shock, watching as Dustcloud was carried to the front of the crowd. She watched as Eris got close - too close to the elder. Her blue eyes were filled with fear. She looked around for Mossbloom, her former mentor. The older medicine cat was much weaker, and these cats look pretty fearsome. She was ashamed that she didn’t do much else, but she had buried her fighting training within her, and even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t dare doing something with claws at the elder’s throat.

The pelt of a dog was one of many animals among the Asylum, which was easily overpowering Thunderclan. He had thought the clans would react with more happiness. They were being saved! Why were they striking out when they were doing them good? He admitted that they could come off a bit intimidating, especially the Nightstrikers, but this was a lot more than he had imagined. He had tackles the nearest cat he saw, a brown tabby she-cat with fierce green eyes. She was smaller, but she wasn’t very happy to being restrained. She even hissed at him, and Griffon gulped. "What do you mean? We’re saving you..." he explained, confused by their hostility. Didn’t they know they were becoming a part of the greatest empire to exist? The Asylum was taking them in, just as they had done to countless cats before.

Cedarheart realized that the dog restraining her was young, maybe even apprentice-aged. He seemed genuinely confused. And he was speaking, which meant he wasn’t a predator. Looking closer, she realized he was wearing the pelt of a dead dog. Her heart quickened. What disgusting group had brainwashed this tom into thinking what they were doing was right, forcing him to wear the coat of a predator. He thought they were saving them? She exhaled shakily. He was close to the age of some of her kit’s for Starclan’s sake. He didn’t know any better. Was he just like them, a cat that had been forcefully taken in? She closed her eyes, praying this was just some crazed nightmare. But she knew when she opened them again that this was real.

As a younger warrior, Thrushnose had to sleep near the den’s entrance, with little warmth to shield her from the brisk forest air. Given the choice, she would have anyway. Closer to the entrance meant closer to Badgerpaw and her siblings, should have meant fewer seconds wasted in the event of an emergency. Tonight, it meant nothing. Her eyes sprang open at the whisper of paws only a heartbeat before the yowling started. By then, it was too late. She couldn’t even turn to see the creature pinning her down. The claws poking against the back of her neck, just above her scars, felt distinctly catlike, but she had no way of confirming that. She could picture what would happen if she tried to escape; the few seconds her positioning might buy her would be lost the moment another intruder (judging by the cries of protest, there were more than an entire Clan’s worth) joined in. Thus, she remained where she lay, straining to identify the flashes of predator- and cat-pelts in her periphery. As one of the intruders offered surrender in a tone that even Thrushnose recognized as threatening, a battle cry rang out.

Oh, no. She knew that voice.

The first thing the tabby felt was a stab of deeply misplaced pride. Her second, far more appropriate response was the kind of body-seizing horror she hadn’t known since the dogs. A snarl cut through the air, every bit as piercing as Badgerpaw’s yowl, followed by a soft thump. At that, Thrushnose did struggle, but the paw on her neck shoved her down before she could get a single leg under her; two others joined it on her head and back, pushing her muzzle into the dirt. With difficulty, she forced her nose to the side. “Badger—” The fear in her own voice startled her into silence. Run, get help, don’t fight them. Every option she turned over felt wrong in some way, too risky, too much like a reprimand. What wheezed out of her in the end was “Wait for Nettlestar.” She could only hope Badgerpaw heard it.

Quaildock lifted his head when scented something new. Something strange. Something dangerous. He imeaditly jumped of his nest and unsheathed his claws, letting out a hiss as he stood outside of the warriors den. "Saving us? Your invading our camp!" He growled, his fur rising up.

∆ Kitepaw's eyes snapped open the moment she felt claws on her pelt. The thudding of her heart and pounding of blood through her veins echoed in her one ear. Eyes widened at a quick realization. She hadn't heard it coming. Whatever this was. She hadn't heard it coming. It didn't seem like this cat was aiming to tear her throat up, rather prevent her from moving. For a moment, the apprentice didn't seek to move. But the yowls and distressed sounds outside the den drew her attention. All of it was faint from her position and her ears swiveled and strained for a clear explanation. One didn't come, at least not one that she heard. Eyes, a mix of confusion with mild undertones of hopeful defiance, found the gaze of her attacker, "Who are you? What is this?" ∆

A little raccoon followed in after Lyralei. It's eyes were bright and it's pawsteps a light trot. Underneath the guise was a white pelted tom with bright eyes. He found himself shaking his coat at the protests, tail flickering at the blows lashed out from clan cats. Casper winced as he watched one overly brave young cat square up to one of the Nightstrikers. It was a bad call but he hoped she was okay. Ears stood on end, waiting for further commands from the Scout Captain, should they come. For now, he was supposed to help neutralize a clan cat.

Before he could decide where to wander off too, he overheard Griffon facing one of the Thunderclanners. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strange bringing in new groups to Asylum was, the defiance and disdain at first. Eventually all of it would fade away, it always had. He passed Griffon, prepared to face Quaildock, and muttered, "They don't know it yet, Griffon. Don't worry, they'll know how great Asylum is soon. Safety and strength beyond what they've ever know..." A pleasant smile crossed his maw but it was mostly hidden by the pelt that stretched the length of his coat. Moons ago his own group had fallen to Asylum. It had been difficult to live such a different life but it was far from bad. The cats who comprised all factions were unique, some bad, some good, just like anywhere.

When he faced Quaildock, the tom's voice was gentle and kind, "I know it may seem like a lot at first but we are here to help. Asylum had taken good care of us all over the seasons and we're going to extend that to you as well." Sympathy shone in his gaze, and while it was genuine, he wasn't sure any cat could see it right now. Casper knew it wasn't the standard Asylum move but in an attempt to calm them a bit, he slipped his pelt so it rested along his back. In it's place was a welcoming and soft smile of the gentle tom's features.

Dappleleaf had been tossing and turning all night, trying to think of all the possible outcomes of the morning when she would try and make things up to her kits. However, one thing that definitely didn't cross her mind was that their camp would invaded by predators and cats alike. She jolted awake as the first few paw steps approached the elders' den, but tried to stay hidden from this fox-cat beast. She couldn't believe that it was actually a fox, since it didn't carry the stench of one, along with the small cat's paws the showed from underneath the pelt. Luckily, it didn't notice her. But it did go after Dustcloud. Her stiff muscles slowing her down greatly, she couldn't move in time to help her denmate. At least they weren't hurting her. They just (although a little roughly) moved her along, rushing her out the den and into the open.

Finally she got to her feet and tried to follow, but the entrance of the den was suddenly swarmed with cats, some of which imitated predators through their pelts that they wore. The two of them were outnumbered. She felt herself sidle closer to Feretnose, protecting her friend's blind side but announcing her position by a tail flicking across her back. Just like Dustcloud, the two elderly she-cats were ushered out the den. What she saw outside shocked her, to say the least.

Every able-bodied Thunderclan cat was being held to the ground, with Dustcloud in the centre of the clearing. As a threat. A promise; one wrong move from any of them, especially, Nettlestar, would result in the she-cat's death. The kits and elders were all being guided to the same guarded area, and Dappleleaf spotted Doekit. She had never really seen her granddaughter clearly, but she instantly knew it was her. From head to toe she resembled Doeskip, making her name an obvious choice. She was taking her time to cross the clearing, clearly not wanting to leave her mother, who was being held in place by a young, scarred rouge. Taking a chance, Dappleleaf quickly changed direction, heading towards the upset kit. Her captors didn't seem happy - they were about to leap at her to hold her to the ground before she returned again, this time with Doekit in her mouth. She was heavy, but the elder still managed to keep up, even if it was with a bit of a struggle. 

Once they reached their destination, she carefully placed her bundle on the the ground in front of her and began licking her with long, soothing strokes. Who are you? She asked. Of course. Why would Doekit recognise her. "I am your grandmother, sweetie. It's alright. You'll be back with your mother soon." Hopefully that would be enough. To her luck, it was. Scared at the unfamiliar cats surrounding them, the little tabby kit nestled into Dappleleaf's belly, as if she were trying to hide in her short pelt. So this is what she'd been missing by being a terrible mother. She had almost missed out on being in this kit's life. It had taken the worst of situations to bring it around, but she was a little glad. At least this would make it easier to talk to Fernskip. 

To her endless frustration, Batbite found herself pinned down even as Minkstream tried to calm her clanmates. "What - what do you want?" she hissed out, making no secret of her displeasure at being restrained. They storm into our own home and take us as prisoners? Why? What do they stand to gain from this? They can't honestly expect us to go along with all this willingly, can they?

And yet they had taken Dustcloud as a hostage just as easily as they had restrained the rest, so what was ThunderClan to do? What was she to do?

For now, she kept still - though, despite her typically difficult-to-read expression, it was perfectly clear that she was unhappy about their current situation. What cat wouldn't be, in her place?

Buzzardpaw usually slept like a log. It usually took extended, active jostling to get him awake before he actually naturally woke up. Today was no exception.

He didn’t wake up at the sound of the commotion outside; he barely heard it, anyway, especially considering he had rolled over in his sleep and landed with his working ear pointed down to the ground and the deaf ear the one exposed to potential sounds.

He didn’t even wake up when cats entered the den and pinned everyone, including himself, to the ground.

He just had a very unpleasant dream about someone pressing down hard against his throat, having no clue that it was also a reality.

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Nettlestar, on the other hand, never slept heavily; the she-cat could be awoken by even the smallest unusual sound. So by the time she was forced from her den by unknown intruders, she was already fully alert.

But she was not quite prepared for the sight that greeted her.

“Mom?” she asked, her green eyes moving from Dustcloud to the she-cat threatening her, where they stayed, locked, glowering.

There were enemies on all sides of her, it seemed. But right then Nettlestar only cared about the one-- this unknown cat who dared to put a claw against Dustcloud’s throat. Her own claws unsheathed and she pulled herself up to emphasize her full height, graceful and imposing and looking forward at the she-cat who was foolish enough to threaten her mother.

“Conversation? As long as you are threatening my mother, there will be no conversation!”

She didn’t care about, or even really process, the fact that this stranger knew her name. She didn’t care about the she-cat’s identity or motives or anything. All she cared about was the fact that she had dared to threaten her mother and her clan.

The gray tabby she-cat continued to stare directly at her opponent, her eyes not wavering for a moment. She preferred to lead with restraint, as she always did, but there was something beating against her better sense that was yearning for a fight, that wanted to show  this cat what a mistake she had just made. If she could only separate the intruder from Dustcloud-- if she moved suddenly enough, with enough speed and force, could she knock her away?

Today, of all days, her better sense lost.

She launched herself in her enemy’s direction with a screech.

“So get away from her, now!”

Eris maintained her cunning smirk the entire time cats called out in confusion, fear, and anger, ignoring any pointed remarks and focusing on the entrance of the leader's den for Nettlestar to make her appearance. The ragdoll hardly batted an eye when a poor apprentice was thrown into the mud, keeping her gaze trained on where she expected Nettlestar to appear. And finally, after what felt like absolute moons, she did.

Eris simply chuckled at Nettlestar's anger-driven remark, unsheathing her claws further and pressing them into Dustcloud's thin skin. What happened next, however... Eris couldn't say she was prepared for. Usually, dear mom was enough to keep a leader such as Nettlestar at bay. Tsk, tsk. Thinking quickly, Eris leaped out of the way, bracing as she rolled to the side. In Nettlestar's anger-driven attempt to separate the Asylum she-cat from her mother, she'd bowled into the elder with her claws unsheathed, tearing through skin and muscle and sending her several pawsteps to the side. Taking advantage of such a wonderful opportunity, Eris launched herself at Nettlestar, sinking her abnormally large fangs into the leader's neck without hesitation. This was Asylum's Mercy.

Eris was aware that Nettlestar would wake soon, and so she loomed over her limp form as she looked out across ThunderClan camp. "Did you all think I was joking?" She called out coldly, gaze shifting to Dustcloud's limp form. Blood oozed from a deep gash on the she-cat's neck. She appeared to be breathing- but just barely. Eris wondered how long she'd last before the stars took her for good.

Nettlestar’s brain couldn’t quite process what she was seeing.

Had she...had she just run into Dustcloud instead?

And so that body lying on the ground- that wasn’t Dustcloud, was it? That wasn’t her mother, Dustcloud, was it? That wasn’t her mother, dead. That couldn’t be, could it?

And was that blood? Was that blood, on her claws? Was that her mother’s blood on her very own claws?

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Why? Of all the times to lose my head, why did I have to do it now?  Of all the times to let my judgement cloud...but how could I not? I...I couldn’t let her hurt Dustcloud. Mom...that is all I wanted, to stop her from hurting you, and now look what I have done instead….I just...I let my emotions get the best of me. I have been a fool. But never again. Never again! I--

“Hhk!” her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the feeling of teeth sinking into her neck.

She stumbled backward a few steps, losing more and more blood each second that passed, before her legs gave way and she collapsed.

I wish I could join you right now, Dad, Mom, if you are there too...it is what I deserve right now, but...I have too many lives on my shoulders, and too many lives left to lose…

She clung to the fading life for a moment, her mistakes flashing before her eyes.

Until, her heart, her thoughts, her senses-- all of it, for a moment, stopped.

--

It came shuttering back to her a moment later, and she shot upward, coughing, hacking, the taste of blood still lining her throat.

Her breath returned to her shakily, and she glared over at the she-cat who had taken her life. She was infuriated now more than ever...but she would never let a feeling like that guide her actions again. She had never intended to let it in the first place, but she just...she just hadn’t been thinking. The image of that she-cat with her claws against Dustcloud’s throat flashed back through her mind. How could she have done anything but react?

Because it has always been my belief that I shouldn’t react with my heart instead of my head she thought I let myself break my own rules today. I won’t be doing that again

“ThunderClan! We are...we are standing down. We have no way to win this fight. We surrender.” she called, her voice still hoarse and shaky. It had lost all of its normal smooth, hard composure. Still, she tossed in a final two words with sharp intent. “For now,”

We will defeat them someday she thought Not today, but someday. After we get a chance to think, to plan. And I promise I won’t ever let myself act on a gut reaction like that again

Immediately after speaking she scrambled up and dashed to her mother’s side before anyone could stop her.

“Please,” she said, burying her head against Dustcloud’s fur. “Please, I am so sorry-- I...I didn’t mean to. Please...you can’t be gone…”


She glared back at the enemy she-cat from her place by her mother’s side.

“Allow our medicine cats to come help her, and we will discuss your ‘terms for surrender’,”

Voices, growl, snarls, all around. The voice of a mousebrain trying to appease them with senseless platitudes that brought a rumbling growl vibrating deep in his chest. The tension in the air was close to snapping, Minkstream's teeth glinting in the early light as he opened his mouth to snap at the creature on top of him, his muscles tensed, Batbite's words coming to his ears and igniting a flickering fire in his chest.

And then Nettlestar's voice broke through.

His heart went cold, the blood in his veins turning to ice, the pinpricking claws against his throat forgotten as his eyes snapped over in her direction. The anger in her voice - usually she was calm. Not this time. Not like this! They couldn't fight with claws pinned to their necks - even he understood. There was no opportunity right now, if they could just relax them enough for their warriors to be freed, they could fight- "Nettlestar-!"

His hoarse call wasn't enough.

The sight of her lunging forward seemed to pass in slow motion, her claws extended, flashing in the dawn light. Heartbeat throbbing painfully in his chest. A blur of movement, the other cat ducking to the side, Dustcloud-

"No!"

Sheer blossoming, white-hot horror ran from ears to tail-tip as his leader's claws ripped into her own mother, the frail elder collapsing back with a thud that echoed through the camp, ringing from the ravine's walls. Another flash of long white teeth, a lunge, and fangs sunk into Nettlestar's neck.

"Nettlestar!"

A red fury washed over the scene, and he kicked out, claws digging into flesh, the pain in his neck flashing and torn away. "YOU FOXHEARTS!" The other stumbled under the onslaught, grip loosening, yellow fox eyes surprised, the foaming jaw jilting to one side, half torn off, his claws ripping a tear in its forehead. He didn't waste time on it, whirling and hurtling through the den's entrance, raging fury pulsing through his veins, his eyes locked on Nettlstar and whatever monster had brought her down, its pelt barely seen, his teeth bared, muscles bunching to leap-

Pain.

The ground echoed in his ribcage, fuzzy impact crushing his bones, digging knives in his skin, panting breath in his ears, a wild snarl choking in his throat, the world a hundred different tones of ringing dancing through the air. The air that was suddenly closer than his eyes, darkness stifling with the stink of death, mud, and cat. Struggling, the movement bringing a muffled snarl of agony, he fought to break loose, nothing but mindless fury driving him on. Choking and hacking came from somewhere distant, warm liquid oozing over his pelt. He could barely move as more weight crushed him, but still he strained, spitting rage through the bitter tang on his tongue.

“ThunderClan!"

A shaky, hoarse voice called. Nettlestar? Some part of him recognized it, the words sending both relief and chilling fear through the pure anger throbbing in his muscles. For a moment he still struggled, claws digging further into his skin, rumbling growls above on the verge of snapping with impatience. Surrender. ThunderClan has fallen. The words echoed through his mind, more painful than the fire in his body, his struggles slowing, his muscles staying tense for a moment and then finally falling limp, his breath aching in his chest. No.... The claws in his pelt eased slightly, though he barely noticed it, his eyes closing, white spots flickering in the blackness. Nettlestar had lost a life, Dustcloud was most likely dying....

What have we done?

---

She couldn't believe it. All the fight drained to panic as Nettlestar leapt forward, hitting Dustcloud and falling a moment later under the monster who had threatened them. Her ears flattened against her skull almost painfully, eyes wide with horror as a yowl echoed through the camp, a blur buried under other monsters. D-Dad? Nettlestar? Her breath wouldn't come, air stuck in her throat, crippling fear washing through her body.

Nettlestar stirred through the snarls and the other noises all turning to goo in her ears, words vaguely heard as if underwater. Sablepaw wasn't in any condition to fight anyway, struggling to breathe past the panic tightening her chest, all the determination of before draining out through her claws. They'd lost before they'd even fought.