ShadowClan SkyClan THE MUTINY IN MY BLOOD [ sealdawn ]

[cygnetscratch]

Cygnetscratch isn't sure why she wandered into Fourtrees. After the fight with ThunderClan, one would think that she'd avoid the other Clans to the best of her ability, not trawl the epicenter of them all. And yet, the molly errs close to the holy ground, a grimace worn on her face as if she's fighting a tick between her ears. It felt... right, to have gnarled her claws into that tom's face and watch the ribbons pour. She did something, and in some way that made her feel better. It shouldn't, and she knows that. But that doesn't stop her from pressing forth.

A pelt of shaded fur lingers in the shadows, likely another warrior checking the border. She doesn't bother to check which border this one is. After all, it's close enough to Fourtrees that it feels negligible. The one opposite to her appears young, like she is... but maybe even younger than that. Her ears crane backwards as she stalks forward, and when her new target notices her, she launches. With as much gusto as she can manage, Cygnetscratch attempts to gnarl her claws into the shoulders of the other and haul them into Fourtrees, away from their respective border.

@Sealdawn

 

[Sealdawn Sealdawn]

Plant some seeds when you're alone
Let the blossoms

grow

.

It was foolish to go alone, that much Sealdawn knew. But everyone else had seemed busy with something else or the young warrior just simply didn't want to bother them. Besides, as long as she stayed on her side of the border she would be fine. She was just here to see if there was anything useful Cicadabuzz might be able to use. Cobwebs, mainly. Bug would probably appreciate having more cobwebs.

She almost doesn't notice the other, not at first. Blue eyes drift down from a fruitless attempt at spying webs in the lower branches overhead only to lock eyes with another cat across the way. She looks to be about her own age, she thinks, blinking.

It's the only thought she has time for, as the stranger barrels toward her with wild eyes and claws unsheathed. "What are you-!?" The question dies in her throat the moment claws connect with shoulder, digging into flesh not to maim, but to pull-to drag away, and a low growl rumbles in her throat as she struggles.

The overwhelming scent of pine from the stranger tells her all she needs to know. Skyclan. Had she been mistaken for Thunderclan or had Hawkstar ordered her own to drive all the so-called 'rogues' out?

They make it a decent length away from the Shadowclan scent line before Sealdawn manages to wrest herself free, shoulders bleeding from the sudden release and claws flying in an uppercut, aiming for Cygnetscratch's chest.

15 moons

◆

shadowclan warrior

◆

she/they

◆

bio

Inside Your Chest

SEALDAWN

— Shadowclan Trapper
— "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— Grey Rosetted Tabby With Blue Eyes And A Bobbed Tail.
#70d8e5

 

[cygnetscratch]

She doesn't listen as Sealdawn tries to reason with her - it's brief, and the noise to Cygnetscratch is more akin to a whine than anything worth while. At first, the white furred molly doesn't say much of anything. As she tries to drag the ShadowClan warrior away, her eyes remain dull and senseless, and the only noises emitted are grunts of effort. However before long, the blue furred molly pulls from her grasp, leaving ugly scrapes by her shoulders. Sealdawn surprises her, the molly swiping towards her and cutting directly into the muscle of her chest. Cygnetscratch winces, teeth gritting together, but does not falter.

Cygnetscratch mimics the other warrior, as if adapting her style to her own. Instead of aiming for another tackle (it had worked once, but she doubts the molly will let it happen again,) she swipes her own claws forward. However, instead of aiming for the less important parts of Sealdawn - like her already aching shoulders or returning the favor of tearing into her chest - Cygnetscratch heaves her weight higher. The molly careens her claws directly over Sealdawn's closest eye, likely cutting through the corresponding ear and cheek with her ferocity. She continues with a flurry, though her other swipes do not compare to the first.

"Run," she demands, as if she'll give chase back into the girl's homeland. It brings her a sense of feverish joy to even think of it. "Run - and be wary of your borders...!" For she could be right there once again.