Hunted [SITEWIDE]

Eaglefly looked quickly in the direction his apprentice had pointed, Cloudypaw wanted to help and he admired her a great deal for that. However, deep down in his heart he knew that fight was unwinable, Soot and Tiger were buying what little time they had for an escape, time that was passing with each argument of back and forth he and cloudypaw had.


His fur bristled out of sheer nerves and fear.

He snapped his head back to stare at his apprentice, "Cloudypaw?! we cannot help them, they are doing their job. We need to do our job and follow Tigerstar's orders. Do not throw away the gift they are trying to give us" he yelled trying so hard to not snap at her despite the high amount of fear that was running through him.


He glanced quickly at Galepaw who seemed to understand that they needed to run now or they would all be doomed.

"I know you want to help them cloudypaw... but right now that means honoring their sacrifice and to use the time they are making."

He felt miserable doing this but he would not bear... COULD not bear to see her get hurt or ... worse from these monsters.

He gave her a stern and forceable half nudge half shove away from the wolves nudging her away.

"Come on, right behind me now! You too Galepaw!" he snapped his tone shifting as he saw out of the corner of his eye that Tigerstar and Soot were being put under more and more pressure, there was 0 time left for playing nice... the apprentices were no longer kits and they were all out of time for kitten gloves.

"RUN MOVE! NOWW" he barked the order loudly. It felt... so strange and foreign, he hadn't ordered anyone around like this before, not in this manor.

With another guiding nudge on her forward he picked up his pace and ran next to her. "Stay right by my sides! Both of you, we are going to get out of this" he scampered away from the wolves focusing on trying to lead the two siblings as far as he could from the wolves.


He understood Tigerstar's sacrifice for the clan... a brave and just leader... he feared for Soot however, Tigerstar had lives from the stars that were meant to be used in emergencies such as this... but poor soot ... he did not,


He did his best to swallow the lump in his throat, and he dared not speak these thoughts aloud fearing it would just add to Cloudypaw's temptation to turn around and go back to help them.


Do not look back Eaglefly he whispered to himself. The fear of what he would see... and the knowledge that looking back would just slow them all down and right now... every second was more valuable than gold.

Crocusfrost was on her paws in an instant, shoving clanmates to their paws with her large mass, her usually composed demeanor non-existent at this moment as the chilling sound of howling sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she was desperately wishing that her dad was still here, who she was sure would have been bigger than her even now that she was fully grown. Acornstems call to aid caught her attention before she could properly despair and her paws immediately started for the make-shift nursery, quick to help distribute the kittens, Crocusfrost grabbed the older Daffodilkit and hefted the she-kit onto her back and pulled Kestrelkit close. "Secure yourself to me, do not be afraid to hurt me. To fall is to die - but do not fear, communicate with me and we will all survive." Crocusfrost's tone was fast and clipped, growly, as her panic threatened to mix her tongue. Her eyes flicked to Kestrelkit, "I may hurt you. Endure it." Crocusfrost barked, her jaws fastening around the young kit scruff, securing as much kit flesh as she could between her teeth as she rose to her paws and pounded through the snow, her head high.

Two meals already stored within her stomach to return to her pups when the hunt finished, Wolf #4 turned her piercing gaze to the smaller cats and the dens they poured out of in fear. The babies. Food for her pups. Snapping mere whiskers away, barely missing their annoying little tails as they fled in terror. Her frustration was only growing as they slipped from her grasp through holes in the den she had chosen. Claws met the think wooly fluff around her neck, head snapping in their direction, pleased when teeth met flesh and a coppery warmth pooled into her mouth.

Bleurgh! Along with the scent of a nasty sickness! She let go in a hurry, no longer interested in using this abnormally large cat as food.

Wolf #4 used Iron Bite on Wiggleworm, dealing 33 damage and using 45 SP.

Wiggleworm: KO!
0 / 30 HP (-33)
80 / 80 SP

Wolf #4:
592 / 600 HP
725 / 800 SP (-45)


(I messed up the stats earlier;; the stats have been corrected in earlier posts to reflect this)

I need you to be brave, okay? And I need you to run. Run like the wind, as fast as your legs can carry you. One moment, Littlepaw had been staring into jaws that promised certain death. The next, Cindersky was in front of him. He hardly saw her. The world seemed more blurred than normal in a way that accompanied the ringing in his ears as it drowned out the screams of pain and panic. His breathing had become impossibly slow, choking, as the image of Egretswoop burned in his mind. It took several rounds of Cindersky's words echoing in his conscious before they finally dawned on him. Looking up to her with wide, pleading eyes, the medicine cat pulled the hare pelt closer.

"I can't." He whispered lowly, the sound of his own voice sounding far away. Then once more, this time almost a pained moan as he stumbled from her nudging, "I can't." Never before had such sensations fully enveloped Littlepaw. He was hardly more than a kit, having been apprenticed not long before and thrust into a world he was just beginning to understand. It hadn't quite dawned on him what was happening. The commands to find Larkspring, a new warrior to follow. And Perchstar's seemingly distant yowl. As he watched Cindersky's body yanked backwards, it was then the sacrifice became apparent. Agony washed over his maw at the carnage he'd witnessed. Sleep had been pulled away as swiftly that the little grey and white tom pleaded it was just an awful dream.

Perchstar's intervention provided precious seconds to her fleeing clanmates. Every fiber of his being longed to run towards Cindersky but it was per her last request that he honored her, grabbing the pelt and stumbling on uncertain paws towards Larkspring. And then Rookflight was there at his side, the presence of another cat keeping him upright and moving in the right direction. Were he coherent enough, the medicine cat would have found great relief in the fact that Cindersky's still form hadn't been left behind. He could hardly think. At the warrior's offer, all he could manage to do was nod numbly. But he couldn't stay far. Not from the pelt where he swore that Egretswoop's scent still linger, and so kept pace with them, as much as possible and tried to blink away the wetness that blurred his vision.

One moment, the world was silent. The sounds of breaths of clanmates resting was all that she had heard; and in the next - chaos. Utter chaos, demolition, destruction. If she hadn't known better, she would have guessed it was another delusion, or a case of stories she'd been told in her kithood of the Dark Forest descending upon the Clans in a hostile takeover. But they were far from the forest, and the Dark Forest had been long silent. No cat had even uttered its name on the wind in her recollection.

Perchstar's order reached her mind first. Run. Flee. Do. Not. Stay. It went against every single instinct that permeated the tortoiseshell-pelted molly's body. She was a fighter. She stayed, and fought, and did not back down from a challenge. Even as her claws itched, she spun to face off against one of the wolves, only to find herself skidding to a halt as she saw two pelts flash forwards. White as snow, now flecked red and gone. The snowbird who had become a harbinger of the Dark Forest that had been unleashed upon them all. Next, orange and russet. One all too familiar to the night-sentry.

No.

A life-debt. That was what Rowansong was owed by the feline. As she watched those jowls contort and collapse over his frame, whatever cooling rivers had ebbed over the shadows deep in her heart seemed to fade away into spears of ice. Such frost was quickly overtaken by that darkness, absorbed to become the lethal rage she would enact upon the foe. Without so much of a second thought, she launched forward. He was still alive. He would be alive. Rowansong would not die. She would not allow it. Not for the tom that had been there for her, in her darkest of hours, when her light had almost entirely burned out.

“Of course, I cannot speak of river life without speaking of the river.” The tale came to her memory as her legs pushed forward. Forced her towards him.

“You have had a rather unfortunate first encounter with her, but should any caution steal into your heart regarding her, let my word ease you. She can be quite the tempest, of course: she rages with the storms, with her fierce waves and black tides. Even on quiet days, the river makes a consuming force of herself-- always, she pulls; when she wills it, she takes.”

The feeling of the tempest. That was what coursed through her. A combination of shadow and water, tumultuous in such a way that could not be contained. It was destruction, it was carnage, it was wrath. She herself was turning into a wraith of vengeance, ready to strike down upon the foe that had dared choose him of all targets.

Claws unsheathed free of their protective prisons as she neared, gripping the earth with a strength that had not swirled in the shadows for moons. Eons. It propelled her forward, darting as if she were a mere figment of imagination to any other cat. A simple shadow passing by, easily a hallucination for those who had not had the privilege of herbs coming their way to remedy their ailments. Instead, it was the warrior that had left behind the clan of bracken and earth for the river. For her new Empress, and it would be for her ruler that the sentry would save one of its most precious denizens.

They struck outwards, clawing a strike directly across the beast's maw. Though it did not draw nearly the blood that she had hoped, the beast snarled and leapt backwards. In its leap, claws of its own slashed forward and struck across her face. Her jaw set solid, holding back that yowl of pain that came as red ebbed forward, but not nearly the torrent that now consumed the latter half of the tom that she was there to save. Had to save. For there was no river without its fish to swim in its currents, just as there was no shadow without light.

Thoughts did not pass through her mind as she hauled the tom onto her back. She had sent herself right beneath him, ears pinned back to ignore any yowls of undeniable agony that would undoubtedly hail from the tom in lieu of the utter destruction that had been caused. It did not take the expertise of a medicine cat to comprehend how his body had been shattered; she had to keep the bile down as she could hear and feel the grinding of fragmented bones. That did not matter to her in the moment, though. She would bring him to live.

Her life-debt paid.

Vengeance blazed a flame hotter than the sun in her gaze as she swept about the field, the carnage fueling the utter predator she was. It was a slow swivel; one that would have been haunting had she not been dwarfed by the beasts that otherwise wrecked her clanmates. Their howls on the wind were answered by a mental warcry of her own. Had she been by her sister, the one with the russet pelt, they would have blazed their way to an honorable death. She itched to go back to the fray, but there would be no war until her debt was paid. Until she could assure Rowansong's safety, his life. Until...

Even the raging shadows of her mind halted as the heart-shattered cry pierced the air.

She knew that feeling. It was as if she was staring at her own reflection from several moons ago. Such abject terror in which the entire world halted, thrust to a stop with a stronger force than that of any strike Starclan could deal. It was a world shattering before their very eyes in which they were entirely helpless to stop it, helpless to remotely understand. There would be tears that came later. The soul-rendering scream that she had become so agonizingly familiar with--the screams she'd sent into moonless nights that had been blanketed with a darkness only her mind had known. It wrenched another fragment from her, vaporized into the nothingness of water and shadow as she moved forward. In sacrificing that fragment, an unknown strength found itself replenishing her veins. She would live. They would live. They would all live. Rowansong had been the one who had kept her from teetering too far among that edge that she now saw represented in Dovepaw's face. She would save them both from that precipice. Murkyriver's tortoiseshell pelt was a blur of shadow and flame as she surged forward, shifting herself to allow the fox-blanketed apprentice to find his way onto her back, too. She would find another to assist with Rowansong. But Dovepaw? Dovepaw was hers to protect. Any who uttered his name was responded with a feral hiss of utter protection, for the sentry of the night had returned, and the tom was her King to guard.

It did not matter to her that she had sent that feral sneer to a clanmate--to Dovepaw's adopted brother. Owlcall may have been the tom who had adopted Dovepaw as a guiding figure, but family bonds mattered not to the defender. Those had been shattered moons ago by the warrior herself. All he wanted to do was push him to move, but there would be no pushing in such a state. Death haunted her face, emphasized by the streaks of red that stained her flesh from the blow that now placed three new gashes across her visage that would heal in eventual time. It simply added to the collage of battles that had been won, the collage that was now adorning her very face.

Both toms would stay on her back as she ran. They would flee. They would live. Her battle was not to be picked against an undefeatable foe; her battle was picked against death.

Death, whose jaws now circled around all three cats.

Death, who would loose against the night triumphant.

Murkyriver has fled with Rowansong and Dovepaw.

Terror hardly began to capture the feeling that rushed through Sunpaw's body as he found himself ripped out of his nest and thrust into a world of chaos. The little tom hung helpless in the air, frozen in complete shock as the acrid scent of blood filled his nose, and the snarls of both cats and ferocious monsters unlike any he'd seen in even his most frightening nightmares overwhelmed him. Adrenaline shot through his veins as he realized that he must have been captured by one of the creatures and was being carried away to certain death. Even as he realized this, the golden tom found himself unable to move. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the carnage that had suddenly erupted all around as he began to realize the true gravity of the situation. A new scent reached him, and his lip curled upward in panic as he gasped. He had never encountered it before, but pure instinct told him that for the first time, he was smelling death.

Several things happened at once. A flash of dark fur and a familiar, comforting scent weaving through the blood and gore caused his heart to leap as he realized he wasn't flailing helplessly in the jaws of one of those monstrous creatures but was being carried to safety by his mentor. A cat fell to the ground, dead, just pawlengths in front of them– Sunpaw's fur rose as he saw their eyes go glassy. His ears flattened against his head as he began to notice the cacophony of cries from around them– queens begging warriors to help their kits escape, fallen apprentices and warriors calling for aid.

And he was helpless, airborne, still practically a kit. A true warrior would've stood and fought– he didn't even have the chance to make that decision for himself, although he wasn't certain what he would have done. The monsters seemed truly impossible to defeat in battle. Wasn't it best to save oneself, rather than die for nothing? The thought sunk into the pit of his chest like a rock. "We have to help them–" He yelped fruitlessly, half-knowing that there was nothing to be done, half-desperate that Lichenwing would drop him and turn around regardless. How many lives would be lost today? Grappling with the filling of uselessness that went against everything he knew about the Warrior code– his very purpose in life –the young tom realized that he was entirely helpless. Even so, he felt a guilt-provoking, yet totally overwhelming sense of relief as he was carried away from the terror and carnage, and into the dark safety of the forest.

Sunpaw has fled!

Ambersun was unaware how much Brackenpaw's wild slashes hurt until they were both safe up in a tree. As her adrenaline faded, she felt a sting from her left shoulder, dark red blood trickling down her leg onto the branch below. She hoped that it wouldn't attract the wolf to jump up to bite one of their tails off, like it had done to Sunfire. [color=#ffbb22]I don't think

The fact Brackenpaw was complaining about not fighting a wolf was... almost alien to Ambersun, yet the feelings that drove him to that decision were not. He wanted to protect those he cared about, his friends and family, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. It was the same defiance that Ambersun had when she was an apprentice, even if it appeared in different ways.

It made Ambersun's heart sink thinking about it.

She didn't ever think she'd ever be on the side of 'authority' in any discussion. She always felt like she was on the bottom of the food chain, still a young warrior thirsting for adventure (even if she was happy curling up in her nest when the day was done). It felt like she had just come out of the den a couple moons ago, yet she was further away from Brackenpaw than she realized. She grabbed him by the scruff, for moons' sake! That must have been so embarrassing! A soon-to-be warrior, dragged away by the scruff like a little kit?

She would despise that cat.

"Sorry for yanking you away like that," she said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, or take you away from your siblings. I-"

A hairball got into Ambersun's throat, causing the ginger she-cat to cough nonstop. "Not sick," Ambersun hacked out. "Just... a hairball." Should she let go of him? She didn't trust him to not jump down and attack the wolf. But he needed to make that choice at some point.

She probably couldn't reason with him, she concluded. She saw the anger in his eyes, the hatred burning inside him like a wildfire, burning anything it came in contact with. Yet despite this, Ambersun tried anyways, tried to connect with him, and she couldn't explain it any more than 'he reminded her of herself'.

"I just don't want you losing something to a wolf, she finished, loosening her grip on Brackenpaw's scruff. "Just look at what happened to Sunfire." The golden tom was on a branch by a tree on the other side of camp, but Ambersun could still see his tail - or rather, the empty space where his tail should have been - very clearly. "And I'm sure Shatteredsky and Honeypaw and Harepaw wouldn't want you to get really hurt, either, especially if they're safe."

Now, they needed to get home - well, home was being attacked by wolves, but they needed to get back to the rest of fleeing SkyClan without getting mauled. "We need to tree-hop to catch up to the others," Ambersun said. "I need to trust you that you won't jump down and attack a wolf. Can I trust you?" She really wanted to trust Brackenpaw, and she was sure he'd want to get a chance to redeem himself (or at least freedom from Ambersun's jaws).

Come on, it's a win-win! she pleaded. Please?

Cloudypaw felt torn between at the desire to help her clanmates who were actively engaging in battle and the desperate urging of those closest to her. Her eyes were focused on the gruesome and chaotic scene in front of them.  Galepaw's words echoed in her ears; now is not the time to be disobeying your leader's direct orders! Though, she didn't move apart from a flinch at the harshness of Galepaw's words. The wisdom of retreating contrasted with her instinct to join the fight.

She opened her mouth to argue yet again, but she was interrupted as Eaglefly shoved her forward - releasing a soft whimper. The urgency in his voice and his desperation snapped her out of it. Eaglefly's leadership became a lifeline after that, guiding them away from the immediate threat. She clung to his words with every paw step forward she took. She couldn't help but wonder the worst about the clan mates engaged in battle. What if they died? What would WindClan do without any of them? Honor their sacrifice. She thought, painfully. That's such an awful way to think about it.

The growling from the wolves made her feel sick. Everything was just too much and she had no idea what to do. She glanced around the camp as yowls of pain were released, shivers being sent down her spine as she flattened her ears.

...That's when she saw Goldengale and Tallshadow in the clearing. She had been so focused on Tigerstar and Sootstorm that she didn't realize there was more of them. She released a soft cry in shock, her eyes widening and her fur bristling. Reality quickly set in. This wasn't just a game. That could be any one of us.

Galepaw

Galepaw was relieved when Eaglefly pushed Cloudypaw into a run.He followed along as he was told, his blood rushing in his ears, nose full of blood-scent. It was then that he caught sight of two familiar pelts - Tallshadow carried and placed down the torn and beaten body of Galepaw's own mentor, Goldengale.

Galepaw was unaware of the sound emanating from him until he got closer, and his cries rose to an eerie, heartbroken caterwaul. His chest twisted as he surveyed the scene in front of him. A desperate Tallshadow leaning over the maimed body of his closest friend. Great StarClan, her leg is missing, Galepaw realized.

"DAISYFANG!" He shrieked as loud as his lungs could allow. "It's Goldengale!! She's badly hurt, please help! Where are you Daisyfang!?" His voice cracked and his plea ended in a shill screech of desperation. Despite the turmoil, he laid his body next to his mentor and rasped his tongue over her ears soothingly like how Morningmoon had done when they were kits. "It's okay Goldengale, you're going to be okay..." The more he spoke, the more certain he felt. He turned to Tallshadow, still in shock.

"Tallshadow, we can't leave her here. We need to carry her. I'll help you," he offered. Goldengale was huge, and Tallshadow was, well, tall. But Galepaw had grown well himself throughout the moons he'd been training as an apprentice, and his broad shoulders could bear the weight.

Galepaw's eyes found Eaglefly's, and then his sister's. "This is how we can help the clan," he told her. "We need to get Goldengale to safety-" his words broke off in his chest as he saw an unfamiliar pelt approaching. It was a cat - pure black, with fear in its eyes. Galepaw's back arched and he let out a hiss as the cat approached, his claws unsheathed and battle-ready. "Stop!" he ordered the cat. "Don't you dare come any closer! Stars, we don't have time for this!" Pure rage enveloped Galepaw and he towered threateningly over the slender cat. "Stay back! What do you want?"

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name. uwubers timezone. EST discord. @ uwubers code.kiikko

The tortoiseshell tom turned his head to his brother.

"We will meet again," he meowed, much more certain than he felt.

I'd never stop looking for you.

The tom's mottled pelt bristled as he turned to face the wolf. Scorch was no idiot-- killing it was out of the question. But he was much more nimble than the wolf.

The tomcat sprang towards the wolf's face, slashing it, then bounding back to a tree, sprung again from the bark for another strike to the wolf's face.

Scorch used Front Paw Strike and his second instance of Dirty Trick for 6 damage after Iron Pelt!

Scorch
40/40 HP
76/100 SP (-12)

Wolf #6
583/600 HP (-6)
800/800 SP