⟣The θrows of δeath. [Talonstar]

[Darkheart]

The Throws of Death

"Not a bad day for a hunt, eh?" 

Darkheart heard the verbal jab from the leader of her border patrol. "Perhaps just as good a day for retirement, I would think," she fired back with hardly more ice than was usually present in her eternally foul mood. The tabby who originally spoke, an aging she-cat, lashed her tail from side to side angrily. For a moment, the younger warrior speculated on how, after nearly forty moons, her own mother was still susceptible to her barbed tongue, and if that were the case, why would the crabby old queen continue to bait her? Everyone in MistClan knew the apprentice-sized senior warrior would as soon tatter your ear as look at you. Perhaps it was some sort of insanity nestled deep within Thistlefur's mind stemming from the general consensus that she had given birth to such a decrepit individual as Darkheart.

To his credit, the warrior padding between the hostile females, hardly batted an eye or flicked his tail at their quarrel. He had witnessed his fair share of this mother-daughter duo occupy their time with an all out, hide-tearing, ear-biting, belly-clawing row in the middle of Camp. Thistlefur refused to allow her own offspring to treat her with such disrespect though she constantly belittled them, and Darkheart simply did not have caution. For once, however, he had no fear that this altercation would result in a bloodletting sparring match. The three were traversing the length of the HailClan and HeatherClan border, renewing scent markers as they went. The little black warrior was guilty of many things, but infighting on an official patrol had never been one of them.

The ground was hard, far more solid than any patch of dirt in MistClan territory had right to be. For three long seasons, Sunset Isle had not felt even the mildest touch of rain. Stormclouds would gather in the distance, tantalizing the inhabitants with the prospect of fresh water and would soon be seen moving off or emptying their life-giving contents into the open ocean. The lake was hardly more than a pond; the rivers so low and sluggish, even the runners of HeatherClan would have no problem crossing them. With little to drink, prey had become scarce. Border patrols had increased significantly.

Darkheart knew of the drought. She knew of the possible ramifications such a natural disaster could cause. Yet when they reached the river separating the wetlands and the forest, it was difficult to choke back her gasp of surprise. Though she had followed this exact route only days before, the river was significantly lower. She, with her diminutive size, could walk across what was once raging rapids. Immediately the hair along her spine began to rise.

[Deleted]

"It's been many seasons since the forest has been this dry," thought Talonstar as a branch cracked under his pads as he and his border patrol padded along. It had been hard for his clan to find fresh-kill to eat lately, especially since the stream that ran out of the Ravine had dried up. Most of the prey that remained in the forest was living near what was left of the usually deep and clear lake, and none of it seemed to be around when they sent a hunting patrol out. 

He flicked his tail when they came to a crest in the land, bringing his patrol to a stop as they looked out over the lake. He only had one of his warriors with him, not a typical patrol in these times, but all that he could spare since he had ordered all cats old enough to hunt to be out hunting. He shook his head and signaled the patrol to keep going, knowing that if the lake was lower than it was the last time he'd seen it that the River the was the boundary between his clan and MistClan and HeatherClan would be as well. 

They padded along in silence, keeping their senses alert for prey, as he had also ordered patrols to double as hunting parties that morning, when they came up to a rise a few fox-lengths away from the river bank...or at least what used to be the river bank. It was low enough any of the HailClan apprentices could easily walk across it and would pose absolutely no danger to them, and thats exactly what he thought the small MistClan apprentice across the river was about to do. He bounded up the the edge of the river, letting his fur bristle as he went. He saw how she was just standing there with her jaw dropped staring at the river, and finally recognized her as Darkheart, one of the MistClan warriors. 

"Lost control of your jaw apprentice? Or is the last toad you ate trying to come back out? How's TwolegPlace treating you?" He smirked at her from where he stood, adding fuel to an already hot fire.

[Darkheart]

Have Come too Soon

Apparently, her hackles rose at precisely the right moment. If that's not just my luck... she thought angrily. An enemy patrol was descending the opposite riverbank. The scent of HailClan suddenly so thick in the air, Darkheart feared she would choke on it. If there was anything HailClan she was willing to choke on, it was their hide, not their nauseating odor. Of course, holding with what she called luck, the first cat to the water was none other than Talonstar himself. The youngest leader in living memory had been promoted just before the most recent gathering. His predecessor, though still a HailClan cat, was beloved by his Clan and respected by the island. Darkheart was one of many to be saddened by his passing.

As a replacement, the Clans got this young hotshot who obviously thought far more of himself than he was worth. Obviously, he irritated the little black she-cat like nothing else. He hardly endeared himself to the MistClan warrior as venom spilled from his maw. A warning growl immediately emanated from deep within her chest. The single quickest way to annoy Darkheart was to belittle her Clan, followed closely by mentioning her size. This mouse-brained tom had managed to do both in a single breath. Darkheart's eyes narrowed to slits and the muscles in her hind legs began to bunch. With sufficient power, she could be across the river and on him in the time it took to blink.

"Darkheart, don't you dare touch that water," Thistlefur ordered just before her daughter could attack the enemy cat. "Besides, what chance would you have against a leader?"

Steel-blue eyes narrowed further, until she could see nothing but slits of the world around her. Her stature held no sway over her fighting ability! She had spent many seasons proving that to not only her Clan but herself. She was not weak because she was small! She refused to accept such a preposterous idea. To hear it from her own mother only served to seat her anger more deeply in her mind. Her hide itched for a good fight. But not yet. She couldn't initiate it--not when directly ordered to stand down. Then again...the order was from Thistlefur... Would the reprimand back in camp be worth it? In order to wipe that smirk off the idiot tom's face, yes it would.

"Obviously better than the forest is treating you. At least we have some hide on our bones...and we don't eat enough by getting our leader killed. We have plenty to go around," she shot back. Unlike the emotion burning just beneath the surface, her voice was calm, almost as if she were having a nice chat with one of her clanmates. One would never know what kind of insults she threw by her just her tone.

[Deleted]

Talonstar's blood ran cold when he realized what the mousebrain across the river was saying, though from his outer demeanor no one would ever know it. It was painfully obvious when he spoke. He voice cold as falling snow, he spoke just loud enough for her to hear him. "At least we can catch our prey, fresh and alive, warm and juicy, and don't have to resort to begging the Twolegs for the garbage they feed their kittypets...or maybe that's just it. Maybe that's all your clan can do is beg like kittypets. In fact, I'd be willing to bet you even let them pet you. Sounds just like you Darkheart, especially since you can't catch your own food." Even as he braced himself for the fight he knew would follow, he wondered just how well it would go considering there were three of them and only himself and one other warrior. Low and only to Foxtail, "Get ready."

[Darkheart]

These Claws are Sharp

The moment of triumph was remarkably short lived. Simply based on his tone, any cat could tell the barbs he threw were going to dig deep. None could know just how far beneath the surface they would embed themselves. With every poisonous word that dripped from his fang, Darkheart found a new level to her anger. By the time he was finished, her entire form had become as still as the wind just before the worst of storms. From somewhere far off, Thistlefur's voice was heard saying, "Darkheart, calm yourself. Do not rise to his taunts. You are MistClan! You do not fight needlessly." The sound hardly registered in her thoughts, such was the overwhelming desire to wipe that irritating smirk off his face, to rip the hide off his bones, to teach him exactly what a cat who couldn't hunt did in her spare time. If it was the last thing she did, Darkheart would make him regret spitting such filth. She would wipe his blood from her claws, taste the tang of it on her maw. Her soul cried for retribution, the Warrior Code all but forgotten in her rage. Vengeance would be achieved in full.

The she-cat launched her body across the river, claws aimed for the enemy leader's face. Talonstar may have impressive size, but Darkheart had an agility and cunning that was thus far unmatched. If as she didn't underestimate her opponent, she should be able to do a significant amount of damage. As expected, she did not land directly on the tom. As soon as her paws touched earth, her small black bodice was flying at him again, this time aimed at his flank. If she connected, her claws would find purchase deep in his hide, her teeth would aim for his spine. She was furious, all thoughts of her own safety gone from her mind. The warrior did not even notice the rest of her patrol engage in the fight. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of her thoughts, it registered that they simply kept Foxtail from intervening. It seemed even they knew not to interrupt the enraged Darkheart.

[Deleted]

He dodged he first attack; it was obvious where it was aimed and going, and took a swipe of his own as she passed. "No one insults the memory of Longstar, Kittypet." With that he hissed and lunged for her again. He may have been large, but he still had more speed than most other cats his size. His only disadvantage here was that he was an average fighter, not the worst fighter in his clan but definitely not best. Behind him a little ways he was aware of the fight Foxtail was having with the two other warriors from the MistClan patrol, and though he wanted to go help his friend, he was on his own.

Thankfully he chose that exact moment to focus back in on the fight at hand as she had whipped around and started right back toward him to attack again and was able to dodge the worst of it. That being said he didn't completely dodge the second attack, and had caught one of her claws across his right shoulder, some of which were moderately deep scratches. A few moments later he backed away, giving him enough room to throw a couple more words in.

"I am a leader Darkheart. You have no hope of winning this fight!" With those last few words he charged in at her and began the fight in earnest.

[Darkheart]

Flesh Will be Hewn

The she-cat felt her claws sink into his hide with an intense satisfaction. Unfortunately, it was his shoulder, not his flank where the attack was originally aimed. She was unable to reach his spine from that angle and broke off the attack. The tom took a few steps away, choosing to follow that irritating tradition of trading words in the midst of battle. Darkheart took the moment to assess her own physique. There was a sting along her left hip. He had probably managed to snag her during her first headlong rush. It hadn't been her most tactical move. The black cat was probably lucky that was all he managed to do. Somewhere in her thoughts, Talonstar's words registered. Winning isn't the objective, you idiot, she thought to herself, refusing to verbally rise to his taunts.

By this point, she had a decent feel for the tom's ability. If Darkheart kept her wits about her, she had a decent chance of inflicting the kind of wound the leader deserved. Fury coursed through her blood, the rage red behind her eyes, yet her reason remained. For the first time, she waited. Let the idiot tom come to her; she would be ready for his counterattack.