
Heart hammering—beating flesh against his ribs like a bird ramming into the bars of its cage. Briefly, his gaze flickers to the apprentice that the warrior ushers away, and to the herbs clutched in her mouth. "What does she have?" He murmured to his patrol. So, they hadn't come for prey but for plants? That was Jinglemoon's area, so he did not understand their value. Though that hardly mattered—these cats were trespassers, filth dredged up from some gutter to take from them.
A dark tom stepped forward to taunt them. Adderfang ran his tongue over his teeth, jaws parting briefly to flash what lay beneath an old wound. Littlebrook voiced some of his thoughts, albeit with another show of words too many.
It was clear these cats thought them weak—just like SkyClan did. They only took plants now, but what would they try to take later? What consequences were they willing to bear to avoid drawing blood? But he held his tongue, idle among them as their usually lighthearted leader spoke. The chill in Pikestar's voice was unlike anything he'd heard before. It almost convinced him that the leader was willing to do what needed to be done. That they wouldn't continue to let these ShadowClanners walk all over them—until Pikestar proved otherwise.
His head snapped to look at Pikestar, teeth bared. "You cannot be serious!" The words rose from his throat in a vicious gargle. He could hardly believe his ears. Pikestar was always a bit on the softer side, but even now, as these cats stole from them, he was willing to let them walk away unscathed? Yes, there were children among them, but they made that decision. They chose to drag kits onto a battlefield where they had no right to be, so they had no right to complain if they got hurt. These cowards were set on using them as shields, and it was working, just like Pikestar was proving to them now.
Adderfang was not cold-hearted. He took no joy in what was happening, but at the end of the day, all that mattered to him was the safety of his family. If he was willing to die to protect them, the same could be said that he would do a lot worse. Life was not fair or kind. There were worse cats than these ones out there, willing to take more. How much would they have to give up then?
He took his frustration out on the grass, claws snagging at roots as his tail lashes sharply behind him. "You cannot bargain with these types, Pikestar. We should give them some incentive not to come back." He hissed. Adderfang knew well what cats like them were capable of.
He watched as Frostmoth and Rainpaw were sent away. Part of him was relieved. If the rest of them didn't come back, at least the clan would have guidance. Frostmoth wouldn't have been his first choice. He would pity the young tom having to step up to take leadership so soon, but he was capable. And at least Jinglemoon wouldn't lose his apprentice after just receiving her.
No sooner had their deputy left them did things truly began to spiral toward chaos. The dual-colored warrior barked hypocrisy. Adderfang scoffed loudly. He knew they would do no different should the tables be turned.
It moved swiftly, outstretched toward Littlebrook. "No!" A sharp bark left him, but it was too late.
Adderfang had done his best to dampen his temper as he grew. That rash, hot-headed tom he once was, behind him now—or so he told himself. But now, as he watched one of the thieves rush toward his clanmate, claws dawn…
The first of much blood to be spilled tonight welled to the surface... and it belonged to RiverClan's own. These cats had made a grave error.
What happened next was a whirl of motion. Brown fur darted past him—Pineheart moving to help Littlebrook, he was sure. Adderfang did not follow. Instead, he directed his attention to the large tom in their path. The Life Guard wouldn't give him a chance to help his fellow warriors. Adderfang rushed forward, ramming into them with all his might.
Rushing forward to intercept @Coalstrike and knock him off balance.
Adderfang: 100/100
- Lean and wiry
- Rolls a 1d20
Rolled a 1d20 → 14
Adderfang: 100/100
- Lean and wiry
- Rolls a 1d20
Rolled a 1d20 → 14
___________________ There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose
𓆟
He did what he had to do ________________
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"speech" - thoughts
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Adderfang he/him & riverclan
𓆟 Chocolate ticked tabby w/ amber eyes. Peppered with scars. Deep gash across the right side of his face exposing one canine slightly. Missing left ear.
𓆟 Deep gravelly voice that might unsettle others.
𓆟 Would and will kill a man.
𓆟 Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. For other powerplays, DM.
𓆟 Fur smells faintly of river reeds and damp earth.
penned by Scarlet
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