a warning to the people [closed battle topic]

The first drops of blood were drawn, meaning it was too late for Batswarm to create some elaborate excuse to be anywhere but here. Instead, he would have to find the weakest link - but not one that would be so obvious, like the tubby gray one.

Forest-green eyes had spotted a hesitant black-furred tom that had been trailing the heels of another mere moments ago. He looked tired and nervous, even more so now that the action had begun. He wouldn't have to try with this one, right? He'd get the hint that Batswarm didn't even want to fight if he just half-tailed it from the beginning, right? Surely, the tom was smart enough to understand that much. Besides: he was far too beautiful for even an enemy to want to hit.

Willing himself to finally stretch freshly groomed claws in the direction of the WindClan tom, both eyes closed, he gave the laziest swipe of claws he could -

Batswarm accidentally used Killing Strike on Flutterpetal.

Huh?

The tom in front of him moved, like he was trying to dodge, or maybe the cats around him had shoved him. He was suddenly much closer than before, falling in line just in time for the calicos claws to snag the WindClanners throat - an immediate spray of warm blood coating Batswarm's face. He could feel his claw get stuck on something, only making it worse when he hurriedly yanked his paw away.

It felt like the whole forest froze just for them: a ShadowClan tom eyes widened with fear and a WindClan tom just as confused, choking and gasping for the air that was replaced with his own blood.

No. No, he hadn't meant to do this. Batswarm would never have killed another cat! Not even if he was told to! He didn't care enough about anyone to kill them. This was an accident. An accident. An accident he couldn't look away from as the cats around them screeched and hissed outside of their muted bubble. "I'm - I didn't mean to. This isn't my fault..!" For the first time he would say two words he'd never even dreamed of saying before, "I'm sorry!" As if it would turn back time. He was a murderer.

He needed to leave. Now. Before anyone noticed--

Batswarm:
60 / 60 HP
130 / 140 SP

Flutterpetal:
0 / 70 HP
160 / 160 SP

OOC: permission was given by staff for the use of Killing Strike without the use of the battle system beforehand for plot reasons. Please do not engage/retaliate against Bat at this time!

The moment that Flutterpetal realized that the shadows he saw on the territory were actually cats, and not just figments of his imagination, it was already too late. They’d begun to lunge forward. It was war. They’d been right. Shrikestar and Batsong really had doomed them all, and ShadowClan really had decided to stake everyone’s lives on a simple insult. There was hardly enough time for the anxiety in the pit of Flutterpetal’s stomach to pool into true, genuine fear. Instead, he simply braced himself for impact. His muscles froze up in anticipation. Swallowing his desire to run, to use his WindClan training to just sprint as far away as possible as quickly as he could, he stood still. There was no time to prepare a counterattack. He’d just have to take the first blow, and then retaliate as well as he could.

He tried to stand still, anyway. But his fear consumed him. He tried to dodge the blow as it came, seeing the swipe of claws aimed for him, fearing the injury they would bring. But everything happened too fast.

A sharp, stinging pain struck his throat. Somehow it became hard to breathe. The wound was relatively small--it shouldn’t have been a big deal. However, Flutterpetal felt everything happen as if it was in slow motion. Claws sliced into his neck, passing through soft fur and tight skin, opening a cut just large enough to reach his windpipe. He felt the air in his lungs whoosh out at the sudden blow, exiting not from his mouth, but the new pathway in his throat. It was a strange feeling. Instead of focusing on the slight but striking pain, he found himself noticing the light sensation of crimson liquid dripping down his neck. It felt almost like he’d taken a drink of water too fast and it had traveled from his mouth to the soft fur of his nape. Except that his mouth was dry. Shockingly dry, actually.

All of these realizations passed in the time it took to exhale once. When his lungs automatically tried to fill their emptiness with more air, nothing happened. They contracted and did the proper things for muscles to do, but no relief came. Flutterpetal’s brain finally began to catch up with reality as understanding dawned.

Oh. He cut my throat. I’m going to die.

The realization left him surprisingly calm--or perhaps that was just because he was so rapidly running out of oxygen. It was okay. If he was dead, then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of this anymore. Shrikestar and Batsong. ShadowClan. Twolegs. None of that would be an issue. But even as the thoughts attempted to soothe him, his light green eyes slid to the side and found a reason to live.

Adderdawn.

Adder.

His brother.

Oh stars. He couldn’t leave his brother. He’d promised that he wouldn’t.

Fear flickered into his gaze. Nausea rose in the back of his rapidly flexing throat. That was it, that was the one problem with dying. Adderdawn. His whole life he had lived for his brother. What was he supposed to do if he was dead? Suddenly, the lack of air in his lungs became a problem. He attempted once more to inhale, this time consciously, only to hear a sudden wheeze from the gash in his neck. A tiny trickle wouldn’t be enough. The faint sensation of dripping fluid grew stronger. He was dying. He was dying.

Voices danced in his mind, caused either by the sudden understanding of his mortality or by the lack of oxygen in his brain.

”What if... I’m next?”

”If you lost Flutter, would you change for the worse?”

”After so many deaths have rocked WindClan, after you yourself have been so deeply and personally hurt by all of them, I'm aghast to think you would conjure up Flutterpetal's own.”

Stars. He didn’t want to die.

Flutterpetal managed to take one stumbling step forward, swaying precariously, before collapsing to the ground. He felt his paws shiver and convulse underneath him as the rest of his body began to notice the lack of oxygen in his blood, to feel the repercussions of the scarlet flowing from the tiny slice in his throat. Dizziness made his vision spin. He heard someone talking--he didn't know who. It didn't matter. The words didn't seem important. Still he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Adderdawn, shaky though they were. His brother. His brother.

He... he was going to die. He didn’t want to--he didn’t want to make Adder sad--he didn’t want to go--he wanted to see the flowers--he wanted to see how Murkyripple was doing--he wanted to talk to Honeylight again--he wanted to help Rosepaw make a garden for Whisperear and Brackenwing--he wanted to be a good mentor--he wanted to protect those in his Clan who were suffering the same as he was--he didn’t want to leave Whisper--he didn’t want to leave Honeylight and Murkyripple--he didn’t want to leave Adder--he didn’t want to die--he didn’t want to die--he didn’t want to die--

He was going to die.

Three empty seconds where three breaths should have been. Flutterpetal felt more than heard himself choke, felt the blood that was beginning to rush into his windpipe to fill the hole left by the gash, felt the sparse droplets beginning to foam from his mouth as he lay shuddering on the loamy soil of the moors. Still his eyes were fixed on Adder. On Adderdawn. On his brother. He couldn’t really see anything but the pair of yellow eyes standing out against the darkness of the night. Those eyes he’d grown up alongside. He’d been there when they saw the inside of the nursery for the first time. He’d shown them so many flowers. He’d locked gazes with them and felt the warmth soothe his tense shoulders as they pressed close, tight, knowing that as long as they were together the world couldn’t hurt them. And yet. And yet. It hurt. Stars, it hurt.

He couldn’t speak. There was no more air left in his lungs for even a whisper. His head swam as he tried to force some stuttering words from his torn throat, but there was nothing. All he could do was move his mouth and hope that his sentiment would be visible in the dark--or even just in the light behind his eyes. They could always communicate with or without words. Maybe Adderdawn would be able to understand what he meant if he murmured it into the soil, if he stared with enough intensity, if he begged with the last movements he had.

Adder, he mouthed. Run. Adder, run.

Some cats would use their last words to tell their loved ones how much they cared. There was no reason to tell Adderdawn that he was Flutterpetal’s rock, that he was the exhale to his inhale, the stem to his petals, the moon to his sun. He would know. They had been brought into the world together and had shared every heartbeat since. There was nothing, nothing in the world, nothing that could possibly exist that Flutterpetal loved more than Adderdawn. Nothing. To even try and convey it would take longer than he had ever lived, let alone longer than he currently had on his very limited grasp of life, and he was already beginning to feel a veil of darkness slip over the coherence of his mind. Instead, he used his last scrap of energy as well as he could with his thoughts racing so sluggishly.

Run.

He begged his brother to run. This fight was pointless and they both knew it. WindClan didn’t deserve to be attacked like this, but even if it did, Adderdawn didn’t deserve to lose even one drop of blood over their leader’s mistakes. He was a WindClan cat. He was fast. He could outrun any ShadowClan cat on their own territory no matter the time of day. If Adder ran now, maybe he could make it. He could stay alive.

Flutterpetal didn’t want to die. But he wanted his brother to die even less.

Maybe Adder wouldn’t even see him. Maybe he wanted to protect WindClan more than he wanted to live. Maybe Flutterpetal’s own death would hurt him too much for him to see the final message pleading, falling soundlessly from barely-moving lips. The thought hurt Flutterpetal more than the way his windpipe was beginning to squeeze tight, making his whole body tense and seized up. But it was too late not to try. All he could do was try. Maybe Adder could live.

His eyes began to grow cloudy. Even the harsh trembling of his paws stopped. One final silent, wheezing attempt at a breath made a few more ruby drops stain his midnight-dark pelt. Still he looked. Still, with the last moment of clarity he had, he looked at Adderdawn. At Adder. At his brother. At the most important cat in the world.

He loved him.

Did he know how much he loved him?

Had he ever told him enough just how much he loved him?

There was no more time.

The light spring green of Flutterpetal’s eyes, which had always shown his emotions no matter how hard he tried to hide them, finally grew dull. His gaze was left empty and cold as the life passed from him. There was one twitch of a paw that just moments ago could have run the whole length of the territory, and now could not even reach out to touch his brother. Then, he moved no more.

Flutterpetal is dead.

-

It took a few moments for his spirit to rise, reluctantly, from his still form. The same as he’d looked in life--but now his pelt was full of the stars they had always stared at together. So, StarClan was real, after all. StarClan was real, and they had done nothing. They had set WindClan up to fail and they had done nothing. They had sent him to his death and they had done nothing.

Flutterpetal didn’t have it in him to be upset. But he didn’t want to go. Everyone was waiting for him--everyone he knew--Goldenpaw, Daisybreeze, Hazelpatch. He knew they were waiting. But he didn’t want to go.

Luminous green eyes looked still at Adderdawn. At Adder. At his brother.

An unfamiliar sensation of loneliness welled up inside of him.

He would... he would remain here just a few moments longer.

At her mother's single word command, Badgermask launched herself forward. Her eyes fell onto a she-cat, she seemed to be in the back - her eyes focused on clearing the surroundings. It wouldn't save her from the black, orange and gray blur that darted across the moor straight at her - ramming into her with everything she had. In a quick motion, she twisted - racking her claws down the black and white she-cat's side before she jumped away. She arched her back, bearing her fangs as a steady growl rose in her throat - eyes too focused on the current battle to notice what had transpired at her brother's claws across the field.

Badgermask used Jumping Strike on Sleeepyhollow, dealing 8 damage and costing 7 stamina.

Badgermask:
50/50 HP
113/120 SP (-7)

Sleepyhollow:
42/50 HP (-8)
120/120 SP

At his deputy's call, the dark warrior surged toward his target with claws ready to rip flesh. His target was the fatter of the unoccupied warriors. Normally he would have wanted a more challenging opponent, but this decision was a tactical one. He would finish this ball of blubber off quickly and move to support his clanmates.

Sablestrike used Jumping Strike on Fuzzface, dealing 13 (10 + 3) HP and costing 7 SP

Fuzzface:
42/55 HP (-13)
115/115 SP

Sablestrike:
70/70 HP
153/160 SP (-7)

Within an instant, the night erupted into a fury of yowls and battle cries. The tangy, overwhelming scent of blood quickly began to fill the air around him and the plump tom's fur stood on edge. So much for getting home peacefully. Before he was able to come about his senses, a body suddenly slammed into him. The cat didn't hold the scent of his clanmates and as he pushed himself up from the ground, the pelt wasn't one in which he recognized either. Great StarClan did he dislike fighting, but unfortunately for the lazy warrior; he understood that he had no choice in the current matter.

Leaping forward with his claws stretched out in front of him, he used all of his weight to hit the ShadowClanner's side as hard as possible. Slamming into the dark pelted tom's side, Fuzzface realized that he'd overcalculated how much force was needed to hit a cat more slender than him. Rolling onto the ground and into a patch of tall grass, he managed flatten all of it, but that was the least of his worries right now. Not wasting any time, he heaved himself up and slashed his claws at his attacker. The scent of blood grew even stronger and filled his nostrils as he tried to back away. His lungs burned and for a moment he tried to hide his lack of athleticism, but in turn it just caused him to huff and wheeze even louder. There went any chance of his opponent not thinking he was a plump kittypet...


Fuzzface used Jumping Strike; dealing -10 HP and costing -7 SP.
Fuzzface also used WindClan's Swift Strike; dealing -7 HP and costing -10 SP.

Fuzzface
HP: 42/55
SP: 93/110 (-17)

Sablestrike
HP: 53/70 (-17)
SP: 153/160

In a split second, the night was alive with chaos. Being near the back of the group, Owlshade saw the shadows surging towards his clanmates, but he didn't even have time to open his mouth, much less bark a warning, before Leopardsun collided with Smallbean and the battle had begun. Owlshade launched forward to defend his clanmates, but stopped short as something grabbed his tail and yanked backwards - a ShadowClan cat that he hadn't seen slip behind him. His trajectory was cut short, and, dazed, he turned to face her, lips pulling back to bare his fangs and send a nasty hiss in her direction.

Pineblossom
70 / 70 HP
160 / 160 SP

Owlshade [STUNNED FOR THIS TURN]
50 / 60 HP
140 / 140 SP

Sharp teeth set into his leg, and Owlshade snarled, yanking away and whipping around to face her. His hackles raised, blue eyes ice and fire at the same time. He was angry. But the anger he directed at the she-cat before him was only a fraction of what he truly felt. This was Batsong's fault. This was Shrikestar's fault.

That didn't matter right now, though.

Charging the she-cat, the pale tom attempted to duck and slide beneath her, raking his claws down her belly. Hot blood spilled, dotting his pale fur with crimson.

Owlshade used Belly Rake on Pineblossom, dealing 20 damage at the cost of 25 stamina.

Pineblossom
50 / 70 HP [-20]
138 / 160 SP

Owlshade
40 / 60 HP
115 / 140 SP [-25]

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 5

Diluted calico form had already begun to turn tail and attempt to get as far away from the forest as possible... Until a heavy blow knocked him onto his side with sharp, angry needles littering his body as the two rolled around in the dirt before Batswarm ended up beneath his attacker. He could hear the tom crying above him in the most heart-rending fashion, but fear made the words unintelligible.

A flurry of sharp claws dug into every inch of his once perfect pelt, tufts of fur flying about the edges of his vision. And though he desperately swung his own claws out to protect himself, he couldn't seem to be able to do much of anything but lay down and take the abuse. Why? Why was this angry tom punishing Batswarm? He hadn't meant to do this! He didn't want to kill anyone! He shouldn't have even been here. Who let him be here!? Curse this forsaken forest!

He cried out for literally anyone to save him from the dark-brown form that was ruthlessly ripping into him. It hurt. It hurt so much. He'd never felt this much pain in his life! And he shouldn't have had to. "Please..." Was all he could rasp out. I don't want to die! The same could have been said for the midnight-black tom who lay dead only heartbeats away, but that wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault.

Where were the medicine cats? Burdockroot? Harriertalon? Moondancer and Batswarm were there, so why wasn't Harriertalon? She had been on his tail almost since the day he was born, so where was she now? His eyes searched the angry crowd frantically, not one of them bearing Harriertalon's stupidly large outline. She... Didn't mean to abandon him after his confession altogether, did she? Was she that type of cat?  And what of Badgermask? She was here, too!

That's when the form of his silver-tabby sister came into view: Moondancer. Was she going to save him? He hoped she would save him. She'd always been a good fighter, though he'd never tell her that since it would go straight to her annoying little head. And when she did save him, he'd thank her - but just this once. Just this once.

When she did save him, he would disappear from the forest and never look back. Which was something he should have done the day Valley showed him around Twolegplace and soothed his worries about how to obtain that delicious food he didn't even have to work for. He'd find that blonde twoleg girl again and let her pet him whenever she pleased and coo at him as though he were a newborn. That was the least he could put up with if this was the alternative.

He smiled to himself. Yea. That's what he'd do. He was set on it.  Everything would work out in the end. He'd finally live a comfortable and safe life away from all of this dirty work-

In his own thoughts, Batswarm failed to notice that the chocolate tom had no plans on stopping until the ShadowClan warrior met the same fate as the WindClan warrior he seemed to cherish greatly. The thought that anyone would kill him had never crossed his mind, not even now as the jaws of a tom filled with the rawest of anger sank his fangs into his beautiful neck, crushing every little bone and severing every tendon within.

His eyes weren't looking for anyone in particular anymore, but instead became a cloudy red-green as blood rapidly pooled to its new exit. His last thoughts were that it would take moons to for the red to fade out of his gorgeously pale calico pelt.

Maybe it was because he was usually awake during the day, but the night seemed to be much darker than usual, though the stars still shined so bright.  

Batswarm has died.


--
He definitely appreciated the way his luxurious pelt shined with a dusting of stars. There was no pain here, but he couldn't help feeling just a bit sour that this had happened at all. StarClan was blessed to have him, either way.

Maybe he would linger just a little bit longer. For his sisters and his mom. To make sure they made it out of this in one piece.

And try not to make eye contact with the fellow ghost he'd accidentally created. He would not be saying sorry a second time.

It all happened so fast.

The scent of Windclan reached her first, then they were spotted. Batswarm rushing in. Moondancer's eyes widened in shock. She had known, of course, that there would be violence. She... Hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected the spray of blood, and the way the Windclan warrior Batswarm took a swipe at to suddenly just... Drop.

Another warrior lunged for Batswarm. The two tumbled end over end, and Moondancer felt like her paws were numb. She tried to move, but they would not obey her. All too quickly, Batswarm was... Much too still. "No... Batswarm!" She felt sick. Her brother was never that still. It was unnatural, it wasn't right. Moondancer's stomach lurched as she stared, wide-eyed. Something bitter burned in the back of her throat as her vision blurred. She wasn't aware of the wetness that fell onto her cheeks.

War, the realization slowly sank in. Her brother was lying still on the ground, and all Moondancer could think of was one thing.

Vengeance.

She lunged for the tom who struck Batswarm down with unsheathed claws Her blows still had the finesse that was trained into her since she was an apprentice, but there was something different about them now. Now, she aimed to draw blood. Now, she aimed to rend through fur and flesh, and cause as much harm as she could. A savage snarl tore from Moondancer, a sound she might have been horrified at having made at any other time. This wasn't any other time, though, and whatever other thoughts she may have had fled her mind. This wasn't Tawnyshadow, or that stupid porcupine. No, this Windclan filth had killed her brother...

And he would pay.
 
 Moondancer used Jumping Strike on Adderdawn for -7 sp, dealing -10 damage.

Moondancer
60 / 60 hp
123 / 140 sp (130 - 7)

Adderdawn
60 / 70 hp (70 - 10)
150 / 160 sp