strike one [Cone- Battle Thread]

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

---

With Straws blood still wet on his paws, Wolf took only a brief moment to take in his surroundings. All around him the bloodshed was continuing, cats locked together in violence, the silence of the night broken by the screaming and shouting of angry and terrified cats. He could tell from the sheer scent of copper in the air that he was not the only cat refusing to hold back, and wondered morbidly which side would have more corpses to drag off the field in the morning, feeling no particular way about it.

The mottled killer was not done yet, though. He wasn't here to fight for glory or hunting rights like the rest of them. He just wanted to cull the numbers to make things easier going forward- preferably in Sables favor. If that meant taking out a few weak cats then so be it. He wasn't gonna let anyone guilt trip him around it.

OOC- short intro because I might have to leave shortly and I wanna get these up :) He just clawed Straws throat out and is looking around for another opponent. Feel free to have Cone see and try and take him down!
@Cone
​

---

loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

​

 

[Cone]

Cone strayed in the shadows around the trees, eyes glinting in the darkness as they surveyed the scene. It was a bloodbath—a messy, cruel, unnecessary bloodbath. But who were they to speak up against Sable? After all, he had been right—they couldn't keep living the way they had been, with no prey and a dead leader. But did they need to fight to solidify that they wanted to break free from the colony? It all just felt... too much. Certainly there had to be an easier solution than this—not everything had to end with violence.

They shook their head, moving to slink back into the darkness—Sable's other followers could certainly pick up their slack—when a sudden movement out of the corner of their eye stood out. Cone paused, turning their head to see the large, mottled form of Wolf; he was glancing around nearly hungrily as if searching for prey, and they nearly recoiled at the sight of seeing blood covering his paws—blood that was easily traced back to Straw's torn open throat a few pawsteps away.

At once, a familiar irritation when it came to Wolf curdled in their stomach, but this time it was much stronger, much more furious. Their rival had always played a little too hard for their tastes, but this? Actually killing? Before they could think twice about it, Cone had already stalked over to him, fury pulsing liquid hot in their veins.

"So, this is how far you've gone?" Their tone was sharp, cold unlike their usual demeanor. "Really?"

​