I've got kids to feed!!! [CLAIM]

Bearspirit shivered against the leaf-fall chill as he made his way to the gorge. It wasn't much, but it was that much more territory they could hunt from, or use as a buffer, to chase prey to. Windclan had a wide open moor, what would they need a water-filled gorge for? Riverclan caught fish, not them. He sprayed rocks and the stray brush to claim the gorge for Riverclan. He clawed the earth and the occasional old log to spread the scent, both his own as well as Riverclan's. He rubbed the last of his greenleaf coat onto rocks, trees and shrubs, leaving marbled golden tufts of fur in it. One last thing... he turned to face Windclan territory on the other side of the gorge and unleashed a loud caterwaul. The Gorge belonged to Riverclan. That much was now clear. Bearspirit being a new father, he would defend it if needed with the merciless ferocity of a bear protecting it's cubs.

The Gorge has been claimed for Riverclan.

Swiftspirit lifted her head at the sound of a caterwaul, icy eyes narrowing as she immediately turned in the direction of the gorge. With prey becoming scarcer, she'd grown a bit thinner, and it had made the she-cat particularly grumpy. She'd had little success in today's hunting... And was not in the mood for foxdung today.

Her eyes narrowed as her gaze settled on a familiar form standing at the gorge. Bearspirit... Why him? She liked him. The area smelled strongly of Riverclan, and it made her hackles rise. This was foxdung and Bearspirit knew it. "Your twoleg problem is gone, is the river not enough for you?" She asked sharply... Right before she sprang forward.

"Nothing personal, Bear. But Windclan needs territory too." And he was Riverclan, after all. Her clan needed to come first.

Swiftspirit used Jumping Strike on Bearspirit for -7 sp, dealing -9+3 damage.
Swiftspirit used Swift Strike for -10 sp, dealing -5 damage.
Disadvantaged stats active.
Moor Runner active, damage taken reduced by -1.

Swiftspirit
65 / 65 hp
103 / 120 sp (120 - 7 - 10)

Bearspirit
53 / 70 hp (70 - 9 - 3 - 5)
160 / 160 sp

Bearspirit's eyes landed on a Windclan cat moving toward him. Of course it had to be her... his heart hesitated a moment when she attacked, feeling her claws draw blood on him, but for a moment he wasn't quite in it. "I'm sorry too." He said, slowly regaining his resolve to take the land. "We've had a big litter in Riverclan recently and leaf-bare is coming. I can't let you or Windclan be in the way of their safety or well-being. You have an entire moor. I'm sure you can manage without the gorge." And with that, Bearspirit ripped himself away from her claws, blood flowing freely down his legs.

His teeth bared and a deep, rumbling growl gurgled from his throat. This was how things had to be. The quicker he got that through his thick head, the better. Bearspirit kicked off of the ground and plowed into the more lithely built Windclan cat. His claws gouged into her and his teeth sought to do just as much damage.

For once in his life, he had to wonder why the code was so... heartless.

Bearspirit used Leap and Hold, dealing 9 (-1 due to Moor Runner) damage and -15SP

Bearspirit
53HP / 145SP (-15SP)

Swiftspirit
Stunned for Two Turns
56HP / 103SP (-9HP)

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 6

Her claws parted flesh, and Swiftspirit cringed inwardly as Bearspirit's blood flowed. Shedding his blood felt unnecessary, it felt wrong. Maybe he'd read the apology in her face, maybe not. But it was too late to back away now, she'd attacked first, she had to commit.

Kits... Of course they would have kits. "Your clan just got done overhunting our moors." She growled in response. Still, there was less anger in her voice than there would've been for another cat. Bearspirit was doing what he had to. So was she, by trying to defend their territory. They were in different clans, she told herself. She'd been telling herself that for moons, and still the knowledge of it just... didn't want to stick, for some truly unfathomable reason.

There should not have been a reason she regretted fighting another clan's warrior. Even a warrior that she'd considered a friend.

He slammed into her, and Swiftspirit sank to the ground. She tucked her chin against her chest and shifted herself so that her belly was protected about as well as it could be with a heavy cat pinning her to the ground. He'd found himself a secure grip, one that she couldn't quite break away from just yet.

Swiftspirit is pinned for one more turn.
Disadvantaged stats active.
Moor Runner active, damage taken reduced by -1.

Swiftspirit pinned 1/2
56 / 65 hp
103 / 120 sp

Bearspirit
53 / 70 hp
160 / 160 sp

Bearspirit had her pinned good. His strength was nothing to be sneezed at and he knew it. As she writhed under his paws and hissed words at him, he thought he could physically feel his heart breaking. It was threatening to choke him every time he dug his claws in a little deeper. "That was a decision your last leader made. If Windclan wasn't able to strategically distribute the resources then that was poor judgement on her part." He paused for a moment before he adjusted his footing and ran his claws down her side.

He hated it.

"I wish things were different. I can't... I can't let my kits starve because of..." Because of how I feel about you. He never finished the sentence. He simply shook his head. He didn't owe her an explanation. She didn't feel the same way about him. She'd made that clear when they talked at Fourtrees.

"I promise I'll let you go if you surrender." And for just a moment he halted his attack, hoping that she'd just take his offer and go.

Bearspirit continued his leap and hold, dealing 9 damage (-1 from Moor Runner) and -15SP

Bearspirit
53HP / 130SP (-15SP)

Swiftspirit
Held one more turn
47HP / 103SP (-9HP)

Well, Bearspirit wasn't wrong. As much as Swiftspirit liked Lilacstar, that had been her decision. Riverclan's aid had been helpful against Skyclan, but now they would suffer for letting them hunt on the moors for as long as they had.

"...I can't... I can't let my kits starve because of..." She wasn't sure why that stung. Of course he'd find a mate in his own clan. There was nothing between them and couldn't be anything between them other than friendship, and she was finding it just as difficult as he was to maintain just that between them. She believed that the code had a lot of merit, but this wasn't one of those times. It was a shame they weren't in the same clan, then all of this could have been avoided.

"I understand." She muttered, "Your kits shouldn't starve, neither should the kits in Windclan." A huff escaped her. His claws had done damage, but he'd stopped, and she eyed him warily. Instinct said she shouldn't trust those words, but... He was a friend. And she didn't think she could stomach continuing this fight.

"Alright... I have no real stomach to continue this, honestly. You're still a- a friend." Only it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of that. He'd found someone else and she had grown close with Timbersun, they really were nothing more than friends. They needed to stay away from each other, as much as that bothered her. "Go and take care of your kits, Bearspirit."

While Bearspirit had stopped his attack, Swiftspirit wriggled out of his grasp, intending to put some distance between them. While she wanted to trust his word, she wasn't foolish enough to put her guard down either, eyeing him as she backed off. It was clear she wasn't going to win here, anyways. She'd... Get over the disappointment. Eventually.

Swiftspirit is no longer pinned.
Disadvantaged stats active.
Moor Runner active, damage taken reduced by -1.

Swiftspirit LAH 2/2
47 / 65 hp
103 / 120 sp

Bearspirit
53 / 70 hp
130 / 160 sp

Bearspirit didn't try to bury his claws in any deeper when she wiggled away from him. She was free. Bearspirit stood there and waited for her to leave, understanding the hesitation. "I didn't want this." He said simply, leaving this open for interpretation. He would not elaborate further. His eyes went to the ground. If she was done fighting, then he was too.He'd done his job. There was no reason to hurt her further. He was more glad for that then he wanted to acknowledge.

"I... if you're struggling this leaf-bare... and I mean really struggling... " He slid both ears out to the sides of his head, unable to meet her eye now. "I can spare a few fish to one Windclan cat without too much of a fuss I think."

Bearspirit did not attack this turn.

Bearspirit
53HP / 130SP

Swiftspirit
47HP / 103SP

"Neither do I," Swiftspirit muttered flatly, eyes downcast. She didn't want to have to fight someone she had always considered a good friend. But they weren't in the same clan, and while they'd been allies in the past, they had their own to look after. Still, it bothered her. It bothered her a great deal.

She lifted her head at the offer, watching as he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "I'll manage. I-" She huffed, claws digging into the ground in frustration. Why did he insist on making things harder? Why couldn't they just be in the same clan and avoid this entirely? "Thank you, though. We both know your clan will need food just as much as Windclan. You don't need to go that far." What he'd just suggested was treason... And Swiftspirit refused to admit to herself that it strangely put her mind at ease. He still cared about her, even if there couldn't be anything more than friendship between them.

"I'm... Going to go back to hunting. Just..." Swiftspirit shook her head and turned away. She needed to catch something, standing around talking wasn't going to accomplish that. And she... needed to get away from Bearspirit, for her own sanity. The warrior broke into a trot, hardly noticing the quickly drying blood on her fur. She'd... come up with something to tell Hentooth when she eventually noticed. Something that would hopefully keep tensions from rising further.

He never looked up from his paws. Not as she talked... not when she stopped talking... not when she ran from him. Bearspirit sighed loudly and stood there for several moments. He stood there long after she had disappeared. Eventually he just sat down. A patrol would come by soon he was sure, and when they did he would leave with them. Until then, he only wanted to be left alone in the wind and try to process the weight in his chest and the lump in his throat.

Brushing through the prickly and decaying grasses that congregated together in pitiful little clumps, Jayshriek made certain to keep several tail-lengths of distance between himself and the sharp slope of the riverbank, dutifully aware of the ever-lingering threat of a misplaced pawstep. Though it felt strange to return to such grounds after moons of distance yawning between himself and the familiarity of his homelands, he was still keen enough to willingly avoid the disastrous outcome of floundering in the sharp currents just before the steep drop of the Gorge. Resisting a shiver at the thought of plunging over the Gorge and to a watery grave below, the willowy tom simply continued his urgent pace, large ears flicked up into a pretense of alertness- it hadn't exactly been difficult to catch onto the rancorous howling that had occurred several moments before.

Perhaps whatever had occurred would offer an insightful distraction from the pounding torrent of his own mind, a minuscule victory against the perpetual onslaught of his own grief and dismay.

The lone figure of Bearspirit was the singular shape left within the depths of the wreathing mists and frothing rapids, seated against the desolate backings of mud, wilting foliage, and partially submerged stones. A rather unusual sight, especially when considering the fraught stench of WindClan lingering upon the tongue. Announcing his presence to both his vaguely familiar Clanmate and to any potential moor-dwellers still lurking beyond the dull rises in the shape of a distinctive, attention-grabbing yowl, the crescendo of his own voice resonated purposefully against the roaring rapids of the perpetually rumbling border. Warning, claim, greeting all entangled into a simmering note of action. "Bearspirit," Jayshriek eventually began, rough voice slated with an uncomfortably clinical note of wary concern as the distance between himself and the pale-furred tom gradually dwindled, "are you well? You look as though you've swallowed a mouthful of feathers."

Mouthful of feathers was putting it lightly, considering Bearspirit was practically the walking embodiment of Jayshriek's own dismal state of being.