[ti]Open[/ti]On The Edge

[Fireflake]

The sound of lightly crunching pawsteps punctuated the cold air, coming one after the other in a steady but rapid pattern. The pattern was recorded on the ground along one of MothClan's borders, which was marked only by the scents of the previous day's patrol. The sun's rays had only just reached the glinting field, but the rogue tom now sitting directly on the border line had been there since just past midnight, and the glint in his eyes was not brought by the orange light now creeping over the ground. He stared straight ahead. Every now and then he would sit down like this, maybe groom his forever-bristling fur, then stand back up and continue along the border, peering into the clan's territory the whole time.

He hadn't been noticed yet. At least, not as far as he was aware. It was unlike clanners to run from a potential fight, so he felt rather secure in the knowledge that they'd slept through his earlier surveying of their territory. A sigh seeped out into the air as he lifted a paw. With a louder crunch than his other steps, this one went down on the wrong side of the MothClan border, and it was no accident. One pawstep after another, the ginger tabby strolled into their land with less and less precision, along with less and less concern over keeping his trespassing quiet. He paused near a tree and sat again against the trunk.

His intense stare led him into a daze, and it was only the sound of quieter but faster pawsteps that brought him out of it. Little high-pitched squeaks drew his pale green eyes to a squirrel as it launched itself at the tree behind him. His claws weren't quick enough to bat it down and it skittered up to safety. Scorpio narrowed his eyes and stepped out from under the tree, staring in the direction the prey had been fleeing.

[Songbird]

Lynxshade - Mothclan Warrior

Lynxshade hadn’t seen the small ginger and white tom pacing up and down the border. If he had, well, he’d surely have done something about it. Instead, it was not long after the light of dawn began to seep into Mothclan’s camp that the brown warrior rose to his paws and shook out his pelt, quickly grooming it before slipping silently out of camp. It wasn’t that he was sneaking off, he just didn’t particularly feel like putting up with anybody for the moment. He would hunt, or patrol, and return home to be assigned to some patrol or whatever.

Moving in confident silence, the large tom headed in the direction of the fields, seeing as the forest that took up part of them was the best place to hunt in leafbare. She snow crunched under foot, yet surprisingly quietly under his bulk as he habitually placed his paws down lightly, certainly living up to one of the many implications of his name as he flitted across the snow and soon through trees like a shadow.

It wasn’t until he caught a foreign scent that the tom froze, jaws cracking open and ears pricked. His tail flickered behind him, swishing inaudibly as he peered around, soon to spot a feline shape under a distant tree. Rogue, and they weren’t even trying to be subtle. Well, clearly they were a reckless idiot, and he’d have to teach them a lesson. Tail giving an irritable lash behind him, Lynxshade ensured the wind did not carry his scent toward the stranger as he prowled low toward him, eyes narrowed in on his target and muscles bunched ready to spring forth at any moment.

Suddenly, the stranger seemed to stiffen, and Lynxshade paused in turn, lowering himself, wary that he may have been spotted. However, the stranger whipped after a squirrel, missed, and stood staring up into the tree. Mouse-brain. Refraining from snorting at the situation lest it blow his cover, Lynxshade prowled closer, paused once more, then suddenly sprang forward with claws outstretched. There was no battle cry to give away his attack, lest he startle the stranger into a well-timed dodge, he just aimed to tackle the smaller tom to the ground and hopefully pin him there.

[Fireflake]

Scorpio turned just in time to see a warrior hurtling toward him with pawfuls of claws that had reached him before he could react. His legs gave way as the weight of the other tom hit him. It was at this point that his body finally responded to his brain's screeching. He hissed sharply. His ears flattened. His own claws unsheathed as he rolled to the side.

The rogue grunted as he was knocked to the ground and the breath was knocked out of him. The full force of the attack hit him almost at once. His eyes flashed with rage, followed soon by surprise that kept him still long enough to keep him there. Not long enough to kill his fighting spirit, of course, which quickly drew him up in a direct strike with his teeth to the clanner's throat. It was a desperate move, and fairly easily blocked, but worth it if it worked. His claws scrambled to dig into the tom's front legs.

[Songbird]

The rage in the smaller toms eyes could have amused the medicine cat if he wasn’t pissed at some random rogue invading his territory. Instead, he felt only an anger of his own, as well as a satisfaction as the rogue collapsed beneath his weight and, for a moment, lay there seemingly stunned, the breath knocked out of him.

Not that Lynxshade was going to fool himself into a false sense of security.

As the rogue recovered, teeth struck out toward Lynxshade’s throat. Lips drawn back in a snarl, the tom jerked his neck away, simultaneously aiming one forepaw to strike out at the stranger’s face with sharp claws. “Get out, Rogue,” he spat harshly, ears pinned and eyes narrowed as he tucked his chin slightly to protect his throat from another attack.

Just like a rogue to go straight for the throat. He deserved no better than a clawed pelt and bad memories for his invading and sad little attempt at blatantly stealing Mothclan prey.

[Fireflake]

Scorpio curled his lip as Lynxshade's slash hit his cheek, throwing his head back to the ground with only a few hairs from the clanner's neck. He turned his face away instinctively to protect his own throat and his eyes. This had the fortunate side-effect of also hiding his wince. He didn't stay this way long before jerking his head back. A look of uncontainable hatred rushed into his eyes, which somehow seemed greener as his pupils thinned to slits.

"Get off, clanner!" Scorpio snapped. He spat the label with as much vitriol as 'rogue'. Lashing back and fourth, his tail whipped against the clan cat's hind legs. With each swish it grew slower. There was again a brief period of stillness, in which a growl rolled in the rogue's throat like thunder, then a vicious attempt at a strike.

This time the tabby's attack was less clearly driven by a singular goal. Instead it was a collection of smaller assualts working together, much like the anti-clan alliance itself. His teeth lunged to bite at the clan cat's front paws. His claws grasped for anything solid he could sink them into. His hind legs scrabbled and kicked out. All the while, he writhed with the fervor of a seizing fish hooked suddenly out of the water and glowered his contempt at this enemy.

[Songbird]

Perhaps Lynxshade could have laughed at the foolish rogue and his burning hatred after tresspassing on his territory, if it hadn’t been something that would only result in delaying his own current end goal - he may be a medicine cat now but that didn’t mean he couldn’t flay this intruding tom’s pelt.

As claws scrabbled at his belly and dug into his shoulder after a period of stillness, Lynxshade growled at the rogue, jerking his forepaw back just as sharp, glinting fangs grazed it, but didn’t quite break the skin. With a snarl, he aimed to slash his claws viciously down the length of the other tom’s belly, as though in retribution for the way he’d clawed at his own.

Aware that his own slightly stinging underbelly - though he didn’t really acknowledge the stinging - was still exposed to threat, he moved his hind paws, but aimed to keep his forepaws pinning the tom - or at the very least claw the trashing mangepelt a little more before he wriggled away. It gave him less of a grip, after all, but it got his belly away from the hindlegs as he aimed to bite at the rogue’s trashing tail.

Fireflake