Call for Blood [SkC vs WC]

The moon was still high, swollen and full in the sky with only the darkest sliver in shadow. Wolfstar lay curled in his den beside Blossomstep, his chin resting on one paw, and his troubled eyes staring into the outside. He'd rode the high of knowing that they finally knew of Dawnhawk's location, through the meeting, and into the early morning hours, but it had left him exhausted and strained, and the few restless hours of sleep he'd managed since then felt like they'd made things worse, not better. Lifting his head, Wolfstar let out a low, shaky sigh, and turned to press his forehead against Blossomstep's shoulder, breathing in her scent, closing his eyes.

"I have to go," he told her, though his tone spoke more of self-convincing than anything. Wolfstar had been waiting for this moment for a long time, but now that it was here...

He pulled away, rising to his paws, and stared down at her, eyes full of affection and gratitude. He was glad she was staying... not just for the protection of those who weren't joining him in battle, but for the fact that here, she would be safe. "I love you, Blossomstep. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Heavy paws carried him to the entrance of his den, where he stared down at the faces of those cats who would accompany him to WindClan. Bloodstrike had done a good job of rounding everyone up, and they waited now only for him. Without a word, Wolfstar slipped down into camp, weaving through the SkyClan cats and heading for the entrance. There would be no inspiring speech tonight... SkyClan knew what they had to do.

. . .

SkyClan stuck to the edge of the Thunderpath, a line of silent, determined shapes in the dark where hopefully, their scent would be covered by the monsters that breezed by on occasion, covering them in a stinky, acrid wind. Eventually, they made it to Fourtrees, and there they rested, waiting for Ravenclaw's informant to meet them. Except he wasn't there, and after half an hour passed, and then nearly another, Wolfstar was beginning to grow impatient. The dark leader paced the edge of the WindClan border, ears flat, tail lashing irritably. Eventually, he moved towards Bloodstrike, his voice low. "I don't think he's coming... so we may not have the surprise we thought we had." He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, glancing over the gathered cats. The longer they stayed here, the longer SkyClan's scent collected in one place, the more likely they were to be found. "We have to go." WindClan could have been preparing for them, sure, but losing the element of surprise didn't mean everything. Quietly, SkyClan was alerted that they were moving, and then they did. Wolfstar felt vulnerable out in the open, with only the open sky above him where there should be trees, but they moved swiftly over the moors, towards the camp, and gradually the scent of WindClan grew stronger. The leader lifted his tail, a message for those following to halt, and slowed to a stop. The gorse walls of WindClan's camp lay before them, but Wolfstar didn't see an army of WindClan cats waiting to greet them... in fact, he didn't see any cats. Maybe their plan had not been leaked, after all...

Bloodstrike hadn't slept as much as he should have. He wasn't sure anyone in camp had. Alas, he would obey Wolfstar's orders and only begin rounding everyone up when it was time. As the sun began to disappear, the deputy stood in the warrior's den. "Skyclan, it's time." He spoke loud enough to rouse anyone who may have been sleeping, but his voice had a hollowness to it that was rarely heard in the deputy's voice. He exited the warrior's den and entered the apprentice's den.

As he set his eyes on the wads of fur that were barely out of their kit stages, Bloodstrike's heart lurched and his stomach felt sick. He was tempted to just leave them behind, but he took a breath and steeled his resolve. They were the future warriors of Skyclan... and by his own decreed that would follow him into leadership, Skyclan didn't run. "Apprentices... it's time to go. Except you, Dawnpaw. You stay." And with that, he left the apprentice's den as well. He stood in the middle of camp as cats gathered, all ready to go to battle tonight. Not long after, Wolfstar arrived as well.


The Windclan cat didn't come... and it made Bloodstrike's fur bristle. Something wasn't right. He remained silent, and upon Wolfstar's orders to continue on, Bloodstrike obeyed. He looked behind him and nodded his head forward for the warriors and apprentices to follow. He'd never been on such high alert before. Every little sound was a thunderclap... every scent was almost nauseating... the moor felt like an endless sea of grass. Bloodstrike's heart thundered in his chest as the scent of Windclan grew stronger.

Once they made the journey that felt like an eternity to the Windclan camp... Bloodstrike wasn't sure if he felt unnerved or relieved that there were no warriors to greet them. Upon Wolfstar's signal to halt, Bloodstrike froze in place and kept himself crouched as low as he could. He would await further orders... and he hoped to be the one to strike first. Strike first, strike hard.

Juniperlight’s shadowed form was barely visible in the darkening light of dusk. He waited patiently after Bloodstrike gathered the battle party and sat still as a statue. He was practically rooted to the ground. Eager he was not; instead, he thought only of how grisly the duty would be yet how proud he was that Wolfstar was able to make a difficult decision. In his mind, whether that decision was right or not was not as relevant as surviving the night. There was a chance that his lost eye would hinder him—or rather it was a fact that he wouldn’t be able to see as well as most of his Clanmates. Juniperlight sighed, resigned to do as best as he could without pushing past his limits. His grim thoughts were interrupted with his brother’s appearance, and he moved forward to rub his face against the leader’s side as the other tom strode past. They were in this together.

---

His body was completely tense. Even charging across the forest and crouching into a low stalk couldn’t loosen up his stiff muscles. The last time he raised his claws against another cat his eye was torn out of his face. Hopefully… he stopped when Wolfstar raised his tail. Would he have anything to say to them? There’d been no words back at camp. He exhaled quietly through his nose and stalked to Wolfstar’s side. He shot a glance at his brother. No words were spoken yet a message was clearly sent: I’m with you.

Lichenblaze was silent as the Clan walked together, paws heavy. Strange scents filled his nose bur he kept his eyes straight ahead, on Wolfstar and Bloodstrike. They seemed sure of their decisions. At first, Lichenblaze was furious, flame-fed and hungry for justice. Now, he had a day to think about it. He wanted oh-so-desperately to drag Dawnhawk down and flay his pelt from his flesh for what he had done. It was wrong for WindClan to hide him, that much was of course true. But Lichenblaze knew firstpaw how dangerous his oldest brother was.

A flash of a memory. Blood, thick and heavy. Dawnhawk's glowing eyes and disgusting grin as he sliced Tigersong down the middle.

Lichenblaze fought to keep his last meal inside where it belonged. Dawnhawk deserved to rot, but...he didn't know if he had it in him to fight in a full-fledged war. It was much too late to back out now, however, and he was not about to show Wolfstar that he was a coward.

There was more standing and waiting than he thought, and WindClan's territory showed the wide expanse of the night sky. Lichenblaze hardly spoke at all, lost too deep in thought, but during the periods of waiting, he cast his gaze up to the heavens.

Sagelight, if you're listening...Is this right? Am I doing the right thing, for once?

The SkyClan war party reached the WindClan camp and stopped. The mottled warrior looked on, heart thudding in his chest with anticipation.

---

Shadewing padded next to her sister, her expression grim. The tension among the raiding party was palpable, and clung to her fur in the thick Greenleaf night. No matter what happened tonight, she wouldn't attack any apprentices, kits, queens, or elders. Even if they attack me first, she vowed, exhaling softly through her nose. They were innocent, she was sure. In fact, she figured a lot of WindClan was innocent. From what she knew about Dawnhawk, he was treacherous and cunning. WindClan wouldn't be stupid enough to knowingly harbor him, right?

The openness of WindClan territory made her anxious. It was too open, too big, and she longed for the safety of trees. It was too late to back out now, though, so she trudged on.

At long last, SkyClan reached WindClan's gorse walls of camp and stopped. Shadewing breathed in and out to steady herself and unsheathed her claws. With any luck, there would be no tragedy tonight.

Nighthaze was worried, of course he was, his family could get injured... or even die tonight. His face was a mixture of worry, and an attempt to be strong for his siblings. Mostly Bumblepaw, he couldn't believe Bumblepaw would be coming. He gave a glance over his shoulder before leaving camp, an attempt to give his brother some semblance of security. He wouldn't let anything happen to him if he could, but he might not be able to protect him. When the rest of the battle party began moving out, he followed. His black pelt seamlessly blended with the night, only barely visible due to the dim glow of the moon.

His worry increased with every pawstep, was Skyclan really doing the right thing here? Could they not demand Dawnhawk back first? This felt wrong, how many innocents would be injured, would die tonight? For one cat? Dawnhawk deserved everything he was getting, he made his choice, but did the whole of Windclan make that choice as well? His steps slowed when the rest of the party slowed, and he assumed they had reached the point where the Windclan informant would meet them. Nobody came. Windclan might be ready for them, more bloodshed then. Fine. Nighthaze's tail lashed at this point, angry. Mostly at Dawnhawk, for causing this whole ordeal. At Lilacstar, for taking him in, and even at Wolfstar, for fighting when words might be better, but there was no turning back now. Starclan help them all.

-+-+-

They had reached the moor, and Nighthaze was as tense as he could be. There were few trees, if any at all. It was quiet, mercilessly so, Nighthaze would've killed for any sort of talking, any sign of life. It was like this for much of their march, until they stopped once more. The Windclan camp was laid out before them. It was time. He couldn't see anyone, no guards, nothing. Maybe it was just too dark to see them, they could be hidden well. Or... there was no trap, perhaps they didn't know Skyclan would be coming. Carefully, Nighthaze made sure to put himself near Bumblepaw, hoping to calm any worries his brother had before the battle, or maybe to just calm his own.

Skyclan has a -1 sp cost for all skills with their medicine cat by their side.

Birdsong had tossed and turned, sleep proving to be strangely elusive. With a sigh, she stood and followed the other warriors out of the den, shoulders tense with unease. She stuck close to Shadewing, and said little as Skyclan began to move. They arrived at fourtrees, and Birdsong's unease grew as their wait turned into over an hour. The clan began to move again, and she pressed briefly against Shadewing's shoulder before they stepped onto Windclan territory.

---

Beechface stalked out of her den, eyes flicking to the warriors and apprentices that Bloodstrike had roused before settling on Wolfstar. She'd spent the morning and afternoon preparing, then had managed to get some sleep before waking. Spotting Smokefeather sitting at the entrance of the elder's den, Beechface padded over, briefly pressing her muzzle against her mother's shoulder. The stress radiating off of Smokefeather was nearly palpable, though Beechface understood why.

"Just... Be careful. Don't do anything stupid." Smokefeather said quietly. "I'll try." Beechface replied quietly, then turned and padded away. Joining Wolfstar, she stalked silently at his heels as Skyclan filed out of camp.

They made it to fourtrees, and nobody else was there. The clan waited in tense, grim silence, and time stretched onwards. Beechface flexed her claws, lips curling into a silent snarl. Windclan were liars, or they were cowards. Quite possibly both. The price of their defiance would be paid in blood tonight.

Beechface followed Wolfstar silently into Windclan territory, every muscle tense.

---

Swiftspirit was exhausted. She'd been running around all day, between her conversations with Lilacstar and Shrikestorm, the clan meeting... Her trip back to fourtrees after she'd been unable to sleep after the gathering... And even now, she couldn't sleep. The former loner was curled in her nest, though her ears twitched at the soft rustling of clanmates surrounding her, at the soft brush of the wind against her short fur. She'd always been an insomniac, but never before had she regretted that as much as she currently did.

With a sigh, Swiftspirit rolled over, trying to get comfortable. No cats were allowed out of camp, and that meant she couldn't roam the territory as she liked when she couldn't sleep. She'd just have to deal with it, sleep would claim her... Eventually. It had to.

He was restless, fidgeting relentlessly in his nest. Fawnstep's tail flickered to and fro in agitation. He hated waiting. If there had been a chance, the tom would have wanted to bring the fight to Skyclan. Regardless of whatever Dawnhawk had done to them, justice wasn't going to be found in the senseless descent onto another clan's camp. A growl seemed to rumble endlessly in his chest. Would they even come this night? Or would they wait and strike when it was least expected? If there was any loyalty in his clan none of this would have happened. Underneath the silvered moonlight, the tom's eyes grazed across the open shallow of camp, focusing on the entrance while also seeking out the low slope of the edges. Whatever was to explode, Fawnstep's keep blue gaze would be watching after it.

Hayglow laid awake in her nest, head up as she stared in the direction of the camp entrance -faintly aware of Fawnstep doing the same. She was tired, having spent most of the day bickering with Muddyleap. He was clear in his desire to protect the Clan if SkyClan dared to attack but she couldn't... She hated it, but she couldn't trust him to take care of himself.

Most cats would back down when they couldn't manage to fight any more but her son, he didn't... Her gaze finally tore away from the entrance, staring down at where Muddyleap was curled up next to her. She couldn't be sure when - or if - Muddyleap would ever back down, would he even realize if he received a deadly...? Or would he keep fighting until his body couldn't go any further and he had pushed himself past any brink that Smallbean could pull him back from.

Her heart sank as she drew herself around her son, hating how...How fearful she was for him. He was a warrior, he ought to be able to care for himself but she couldn't even trust him on that and it hurt. He knew he hated it, every time she shot down his desire but... She didn't want to lose him, not when it wasn't his fault that he couldn't feel pain. He was just... Different. She licked his forehead, earning a small sleepy purr as she went back to watching the entrance - determined to be well aware when SkyClan attacked so that she could protect her son.

Bearpaw made a constant effort to stay near her littermates as they made the journey from the SkyClan apprentice den to the gorse walls that surrounded WindClan's camp. At first, she had been rather distressed when she found out that Maplepaw was the only one of them that wouldn't be coming, but then the she-cat had felt relieved. The bright side of it all meant that her sister would be safe. While Bearpaw thoroughly enjoyed the rush of battle, she also understood the dangers. It was possible that SkyClan would be returning home with less bodies than they entered with. She had no idea what she would do if she were to lose one of her littermates that night.

The moor was a flat stretch of green that extended as far as the eye could see. The lack of trees made the apprentice feel exposed as she crept through the grass with the rest of her Clanmates. With every step she took, Bearpaw could feel both her excitement and anxiousness rising. The excitement came from a spot of selfishness, a desire to use her claws against living, breathing cats that had wronged her Clan. There was a stark difference between fighting a predator by the border and fighting another cat, and the she-cat was itching to experience that for herself. The anxiousness came from a spot of selflessness, a desire to protect those that she loved and ensure that they would be able to return safely once the heat of the battle died down. The disconnect between the reality of battle and the romanticized version of it that she had created was close to consuming her brain.

Dayspring had barely been able to sleep or eat. It was far too difficult to pay attention to anything other than the fact that her Clan may be subjected to war and bloodshed at any moment. The thought of it made her nauseous. She had lost her temper at Dawnhawk's meeting in fear of him hurting her Clanmates, but at the end of the day, he hadn't been the one to hurt any WindClan cats. SkyClan would be taking that title soon enough. That didn't stop the she-cat from resenting the tom any less. If he hadn't decided to flee to the moor after the fall of the Asylum, then the Clan that Dayspring called home wouldn't be sitting on the edge of their nests at night in fear of an attack from a rivaling Clan.

Her heart was furiously slamming against her ribcage. Surely SkyClan wouldn't be cruel enough to attack a place where elders slept and queens nursed their kits. What about the younger apprentices that had barely had any battle training?

WindClan was known for sleeping under the stars, so Dayspring had found herself laying near the nursery ever since Lilacstar had made the announcement to prepare for war. If they were to be ambushed in their own home, then the deputy wanted to ensure that the kits and queens would be safe and protected.

For once when he was woken up, Newtpaw was alert instantly, no moments of bleary-eyed grumpiness; he was just up on his paws, joining the rest of his Clan. For a moment, his heart was racing with excitement, but as he stepped out of the den his stomach dropped. There was going to be a war tonight. When Wolfstar had first announced it to the Clan, he had been excited, heart pounding with adrenaline, but now that he had time to think... He could die tonight, and he was still so young.

His sisters could die tonight.

He looked towards Bearpaw, and the thought steeled him instantly. Spottedpaw hadn't come outside yet, and Maplepaw had said she wasn't going... maybe neither of them were. All the well, too– he didn't think he could handle having to fight for all three of them against an entire Clan.

Newtpaw followed along the rest of SkyClan's war party, as silent as he'd ever been before. The entire Clan was silent, letting the somber mood of the night hang over them like a cloud. Not a word from anyone, just glances and scowls as they headed out of camp and pushed on till Fourtrees. Newtpaw didn't see the need to break the silence, not tonight.

As they set paw on the moor, the earlier nausea came creeping back, settling in his gut like a rock. What if he really did lose one of them? If he did, he would hunt down the cat that did it, even if it took the rest of his life. But here, now, did he know how to protect them? He could barely even spar. The approach of WindClan's camp quickly quieted his thoughts, and he hovered near his sisters. There was no going back now.


Stars, Cloverpaw felt sick.

She was sure everyone did– their camp was supposedly getting attacked tonight, after all. But she really, really did feel sick. She just had to trust herself that she knew what she was doing– after all, Ivystar and Dennis trusted her enough to send her here –but she really, really didn't feel like it. She tried just to hover around the warriors that had been sent with her, but she thought that was unfair to them so she wanted to check on the WindClan cats, too, but she didn't know any of them and they were all rightfully moody.

Well, except one.

Yarrowpaw was here, but she hadn't seen him yet... maybe he wasn't fighting? But no, she knew he would want to. No matter what anyone tried to tell him, he would try to fight. Not like he needed anymore scars.

She scanned the camp for him, but without him obviously in sight and too intimidated by the other warriors, she settled for pacing. Paced, got pointed in the direction of the medicine den, and paced outside of it. She felt so exposed here. It felt like there was nothing between them and an entire bloodthirsty Clan and some tall grass. Looking up to the stars, she quietly whispered a prayer to StarClan. Selfishly, she hoped nothing would happen to her.

She could do this. And even if she couldn't, she had to.

The stress of the day’s events had completely exhausted Goldenfang. She’d done her fair share of worrying when the sun was up; hunting and patrolling was already tiring, but with the added fear of an attack at any moment, she’d spent the morning and afternoon looking over her shoulder. The golden she-cat was one of the few WindClan cats actually asleep. Though her dreams were filled with shadows that snarled and stalked, her breaths were soft and even.

Bumblepaw was going to vomit. He was shaking down to his bones, his thoughts rattling in his skull like rocks during a Big Growl. This was it, wasn’t it? This is where he dies. He was so young, so full of life- he hadn’t been able to prove himself to anyone, show he wasn’t like his father!

Well, a war could certainly do that.

Bumblepaw liked his sleep. He went to sleep earlier than other cats, and slept until the sun was high over the camp. This was when he wasn’t training with his father, of course. When his father woke him up for training, Bumblepaw shot out of bed, adrenaline pumping and smile wide. But.. this.. this had Bumblepaw feeling groggy, unwell- he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to sleep. Train with Sunflower. Not risk his life.

Bumblepaw spotted Newtpaw on the trek over to WindClan camp. It made him feel even worse; they may have gotten off to a bumpy start, but Bumblepaw considered Newtpaw a very good friend.

His friend could die tonight. He could die tonight.

Fourtrees has never looked so unwelcoming. So barren. So.. evil. It made Bumblepaw shudder. They continued on in silence. Bumblepaw hated the silence. It made his stomach turn. Yet, he made no moves to break it. Continuing on to the moor, all Bumblepaw felt was worse and worse. Nevermind dying, was Bumblepaw going to kill a cat? He hadn’t even thought of that before; WindClan cats could die tonight, and Bumblepaw may be the reason why.

All he could do was stay close to his brothers, feeling sicker and sicker by the second. Maybe he was going to vomit, after all.


Yarrowpaw could see Cloverpaw just outside of the apprentice den, and it shook him to the core. So much fear flooded him. Fear that she’ll get hurt. Fear that he will get hurt. Fear that the other RiverClan cats stationed in WindClan would recognize him. Fear that his newfound family would get hurt, die possibly. His mother taking her last breath rattled in Yarrowpaw’s head. Cloverpaw bleeding out on the hard packed dirt overcame his mind.

He hardly understood this conflict, had no part in it, yet he was willing to die for WindClan. All he knew was that they were deceived, manipulated by this awful, awful cat, and now they were being attacked for it. It made his blood boil.

Yet, underneath the anger, Yarrowpaw was truly, shockingly afraid. He’s never gone to war, never risked his life for a clan. The closest he had was when he put his life on the line to protect Dewlight from the hawk, and he was severely maimed because of it. Was he going to be maimed yet again? Or was he going to lay down his life for his family, the clan he just joined not sunrises ago?

Yarrowpaw buried himself father into his fur, hiding from the battle that was descending on them at a rapid pace. He had no choice but to fight. He took one last look over his shoulder at his worried mate, distress written all over her face, and his heart broke just a little bit more.

There was going to be a time when it shattered, won’t there?

Quietstep felt more like Quietkit tonight. Filled with fear, and nervous, of what would come. A war was breaking out, and she wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. She stared across the Thunderpath, staring at the trees across from it. She could've been meeting Rosethorn tonight, instead of going to war over a single cat. It should've have been a meeting with Rosethorn, not a meeting with claws.

The gorse wall that seemed to surround Windclan's camp grew closer and closer, as Quietstep's legs grew more and more wobbily. Were they really going to attack a place where kits, elders, and queens resided? That feels wrong. She thought. Suddenly she felt her paws give way under her, and she fell, letting out a soft, "Eeep!" As she did so, she felt eyes glance at her, before glancing away. She got up onto her paws, letting out a sigh. Her clumsiness, which was always a big inconvenience, was now just an afterthought. She'd always hope for it to be, but right now, she was hoping for it to be an inconvenience for the war, or at least get her sent back to camp. Clearly, the stars weren't in her favor.

~

Spotlake stared up at the stars, as she laid near the medicine cats den. Mostly because she wanted to keep her son safe, but also because of the chance that Skyclan may attack the camp, and possibly destroy the herbs. Stars, would Skyclan even be that foolish to do so? Probably. Spotlake thought. She shifted her paws, around, as she turned her gaze away from the stars, and towards the camp entrance, staring at it for a bit, as if waiting for something, before turning her gaze towards her paws.

Willowdance followed the SkyClan cats over towards WindClan camp, shivering. She wouldn't have come if none of her family members had, but they did, and so here she was. Her plan was to stay out of combat as much as possible and keep an eye on the battlefield. If any of her kits, or Sunflower, got hurt, she would rush in to try and help them. Hopefully none of those situations would happen. Her heart ached. Her kits were still so young and were already ushered into war...

---

Amberfluff was vigilantly awake in her den, trying her best to let her body rest up while sitting in anticipation for the upcoming war. It could come at any moment. And well, her kits and her mate...

Even after so long, Amberfluff was nowhere close to being as good a warrior as she should be. Anxiety churned in her, an unfamiliar emotion that she tried to shut down.

Bearspirit was wide awake for a plethora of reasons. First off... how in the world did Windclan cats deal with being out in the open? Not to mention the wind. He missed the humidity, the still air and the peaceful soft gurgling of the river while he slept. Another reason was that Swiftspirit was here, and though they had done a great job of hiding the fact that they met regularly at Fourtrees and were not just two cats who barely knew eachother... hiding it now was proving to be difficult. He was curled up in a "C" shape several fox lengths away from her, but he could hear her sighing and tossing and turning. All he wanted to do was move closer and try to comfort her... but with all of Windclan and Ivystar here, he knew it was a terrible idea.

Oh right... and the threat of impending violence was keeping him awake too. Bearspirit didn't know if he should feel disturbed or not by the fact that the battle to come was the least of his concerns. Maybe it was because he'd seen so much death already.... or maybe he was just happy to get away from the dogs in Riverclan territory. Who knew?