Colors of the Wind [closed]

The late morning air was saturated with the faint taste of southern winds, a rich dampness that clung stubbornly to ones tongue.

Thank StarClan, Brindleface couldn't help but puff out a relived sigh that billowed and curled about, a possible break from the cold would give the lingering snowfalls a chance to melt. Hopefully the stars would be kind enough to answer her prayers for a break from the seasonal slurry of snow and ice.

With the sun already halfway across the brisk morning sky, the Deputy was well aware that it was quite late to just now begin the monumental undertaking of getting through her responsibilities of the day- but with a new Apprentice to account for, it wasn't as though she could drag the poor she-cat around while it was still cold enough to freeze your paws to the literal ground. Giving herself a rigorous shake to clear away the soft dusting of snow that still hung heavily from her underside, the long-furred Deputy took up a brisk pace as she tried to spark a semblance of warmth in her veins as she waited for Heronpaw to join her. She had allowed her new Apprentice to sleep quite a bit longer than most of her denmates, just to ensure that the young she-cat would be able to last through the entirety of the day without risk of dropping from exhaustion.

Steaming breath rumbling up from somewhere deep within her chest, Brindleface couldn't help but grumble as the chill continued to creep beneath the untamed mass of her pelt. She loved the freedom of the moorland more than words could accurately depict, but why did it always have to be so cold?

Heronpaw twitched faintly in her new nest in the apprentice den, curling up further with her tail draped over her face to envelope the last of the warmth contained in her bedding. She'd been cold throughout the night, she wanted nothing more than to sleep at the crook of her mother's belly like a kit and sleep as well as she had less than a moon ago, but she understood that now as an apprentice she was to sleep alone. That didn't make her not miss her mother's warm nest or tongue rasping across her fur when she'd stirred during the night.

The molly awoke with a jolt, heart hammering in her chest as all the noises hit her at once and the cold air briefly suffocated her as she rapidly tried to readjust to the leafbare wind that had seeped into the empty den. Empty den, oh no! She was going out with her mentor today and she'd woken up late. Or had Brindleface let her? She wasn't sure, but she felt guilty for allowing herself to have slept so long and kept the deputy waiting. Sitting up, the light-furred apprentice rasped her tongue over her fur in quick motions, attempting to flatten the bits of sleep-kinked fur and remove the scraps of heather and moss from her long fur. Giving herself a quick shake to finish it off, she emerged from the den, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the weak sun.

Padding up to her mentor, Heronpaw smiled sheepishly at the she-cat she so greatly admired, hoping it would somewhat make up for her late arrival. A cold seeped into her paws and the tips of her ears, and she fought off a shiver as the cold sliced into her. She fluffed out her fur, knowing that outside the camp would be much cooler than the sheltered area in which the clan shared it's living space, and as a warrior she would be expected to deal with colder temperatures than this and hunt. "I'm so sorry I'm late," Heronpaw mewed, dipping her head in a mixture of respect and acceptance of her next words, "I understand if you'd rather I do duties around the camp... But I would really like to go out and train with you." She blurted out the last words, slapping her tail over her mouth, afraid of disappointing her mentor further. She wanted to make her proud, but she was so afraid of messing up!

A soft puff of laughter escaped Brindleface's teeth in the form of a steamy cloud, the damp warmth momentarily fending off the biting chill that had settled into her skull. Even to those who completely lacked a sense of situational awareness, it was obvious that Heronpaw was practically overcome with an unnecessary amount of worry about the unfolding ordeal. Although there was a faint inkling of guilt building in her chest at her inadvertent involvement in the Apprentice's worry, it was difficult to swallow down the amusement that was threatening to creep its way further up her throat. For a moment, it was almost as though she was speaking to Rabbitpaw again, Heronpaw's mannerisms reminiscent of whenever he was still small enough that straying too far was the source of immense anxiety.

"Whenever I first became an Apprentice, I could hardly sleep those first few nights outside of the Nursery. There was always something bothering me- Wildstar's snoring, how cold it was sleeping outside of the Nursery, Meadowgaze wanting to talk about something or another, just all sorts of nonsense. I know plenty of Apprentice's feel the same way during their first nights, so I told your denmates not to wake you." Brindleface explained after Heronpaw's nervous declaration was left to hang in the air for a moment or so, noticeably defined canines exposed by a crooked smile. The austere she-cat's features were softly illuminated by the lingering dredges of her own amusement at the situation still currently unfolding before her. "Although I suppose I should've of told you as well, just to spare you some unneeded worry."

"The first hunting patrols haven't returned, and I doubt they'll return for quite some time yet. Will you be able to make it through a tour of the territory on an empty belly?" Brindleface swept on, pale gaze remaining focused on the young she-cat as she spoke. It wasn't ideal, dragging such a young cat out onto the moor whenever they didn't have anything in their belly to keep them warm and focused, but Leafbare in itself wasn't exactly the most ideal.

Heronpaw dipped her head, embarrassment but also amusement at her own frantic apologising and escape out of the apprentice den. As the deputy spoke, she let out a soft but a little broken purr, gazing up at her mentor with almost star struck eyes. Not only was Brindleface deputy, she was probably the most kind and caring cat in the whole of Windclan, and everyone knows Windclan is the best clan, so she was obviously the nicest cat in all five clans too! Not to mention, this amazing cat was her mentor.

"Thank you so much, I didn't think any cat would understand how hard it is to begin with. The other apprentices settled in so quickly, I felt like a silly kit who couldn't do anything on my own when I struggled with sleeping in there," Heronpaw mirrored the deputies smile, though hers came with a purr of happiness. "To know you felt the same way helps so much, plus the sleep-in definitely didn't do any harm." She finished with a laughing purr, warm air billowing around her muzzle that staved off the bone-chilling cold.

As the deputy mentioned the hunting patrol and food, she eagerly nodded her head that the apprentice would be okay. She was so excited and desperate to explore that hunger and exhaustion dropped off her like water down her whiskers, and her tail began to twitch with excitement. "I'll be okay, I promise. Besides, the elders and queens eat first, I can wait until we get back!" Heronpaw chirped, fixating her green hues on the deputy, now urgently wanting to get out and explore.

Brindleface only nodded in response to Heronpaw's enthusiastic words and subsequent denial of a meal that couldn't even be provided in the first place, whiskers trembling awkwardly as a result of the rapidly frosting vapor of her breath. Laughing had sparked a precious bit of warmth in her belly, but every breath thereafter only served to drain the much-desired commodity. Gesturing for the young she-cat to follow, the Deputy failed to conceal a shudder as she squeezed through the protective gorse barrier; during Leafbare, it was hardly uncommon to end up getting an unpleasant icy shower due to how much residual snow often sat atop the spiny undergrowth. The lower portions of each of her individual limbs had effectively gone numb some time ago, it would've been quite the miracle if they had done anything other considering the less than forgiving conditions, which made the initial uphill trek out of camp a bit easier.

The gradual slope that concealed WindClan's camp was hardly steep, but heavier snowfalls just made the journey a bit more tedious and difficult. It was hard enough to push through snowdrifts, but it was even more difficult to do so while attempting to not stumble over a cleft or protruding rock. As Brindleface and Heronpaw worked their way towards the crest of the ridge, the steady hum of the wind rose to a choppy buffet that whipped and lashed at what little grasses and undergrowth still remained visible above the snowfall. It was colder here as well, without the added protection of less direct exposure and somewhat alive foliage. Although she was hardly inexperienced whenever it came to handling the ruthless weather often provided by the moorland, the initial step up to the top of the ridge blasted the Deputy in the face with a bout of wind so terribly cold that it simply stole all of the air within her lungs.

Reflexive tears rushing up to meet the freezing gale, and austere features awkwardly crunched up in an attempt to combat the unwanted stimulus, Brindleface turned to look down at Heronpaw- who had yet to reach the top of the slope. "The highlands will be much colder," She had to raise her voice quite substantially to make herself heard over the constant roar of the wind, "But if we try to stick to the lower parts of the moor, we'll spend all day fighting through to snow just to make it a pawstep or two. The lowlands have the Gorge, but we traditionally don't even take Apprentice's there until they've been out of camp a few times; just to err on the side of caution."

The cold was the most numbing, awful, StarClan cursed thing Heronpaw had ever encountered in her life thus far. The hunger she could manage, and she did quite well, but the cold? No amount of fur could have saved her from the icy droplets of partially melted snow burning their way onto her skin, and she almost completely regretted becoming an apprentice in that moment. All the she-cat wanted was to bury her muzzle into the warmth of her nest, though no doubt by now it had all been drained out into the ground, the cold effectively killing all life in the bedding. Heronpaw gave her pelt a rough shake, before they began to ascend the snow covered hill.

To her little legs, it felt like a bloody mountain, and she felt herself almost panting with the effort it took to merely plant her own paw prints in the marks left by her mentor. How any cat could do this was a wonder to the apprentice, she felt like a moving icicle, and she was so cold any hunger pangs she had felt before were drowned out by the physical white noise of the cold. Brindleface looked like she had almost been knocked off her paws by the force of the wind, and she felt herself gulping what little saliva had remained in her mouths. As her mentor began to speak, Heronpaw pricked her ears to catch the words she was saying, focusing all her hearing ability onto the grey tabby ahead of her. 

Oh great StarClan, you meant she would have to battle with winds that her own mentor struggled with? The apprentice wanted nothing more than to plop down right there and be done with it, but the niggling excitement she had felt in the camp bit at her heels, and kept her moving until she stood at the top of the ridge, next to Brindleface, squinting her eyes as the harsh wind attacked them. Her whiskers were firmly blown back against her face, and her fur was being pushed back against the small mass of her body, and yet she planted her paws on the ground with everything in her, claws instinctively curling out into what little grass remained after the constant snowfalls. Heronpaw would never admit it, but she was finding this a lot more difficult than she would like to, however that did not mean she was going to give up and stop right here. She promised Brindleface she would be the best apprentice she could possibly be, and so she was going to live up to that no matter what.


"So, Brindleface," the she-cat asked with a quivering voice, "What are we actually doing today?" She didn't know what the highlands had, and at the mention of the gorge she was glad they weren't going there, this wind would definitely send her cascading into its depths, and Heronpaw was pretty sure you don't become a warrior that way. She hoped they would do hunting and battle practice, so she could brag about it to the other apprentices - not have to admit she struggled to get up a snow covered hill.

After catching wind of the slight quaver to Heronpaw's inquiry, Brindleface couldn't help but snort out a dry laugh- which quickly tapered off into a seething gasp as she inhaled another unwanted lungful of scorching cold air. Living out on the moorlands was hardly glamorous, even during the more forgiving seasons. Perhaps she had been too quick to berate the forest-dwellers and Kittypets for doing everything in their respective powers to avoid exposure to the elements. "Don't worry," She grumbled amidst a smokey cloud of breath, "Every other cat from here to SkyClan hates this weather too." Blinking back a secondary wave of instinctive tears and sniffling, the Deputy directed her attention skyward. An inky blot was idly drifting by, several countless leagues high above where the pair of WindClanners stood, a sorely evident mark against the starkly colored late morning sky. If the hawks were out hunting, then there had to be something else out.

Giving herself another rigorous shake, which was worth absolutely nothing in terms of providing any further warmth, the Deputy redirected her attention to her younger counterpart. "We're going to practice your hunting techniques, and make sure that you've at least got the basics down in case we happen across anything worth hunting while we're out." Brindleface mewed, teeth chattering slightly as she spoke, "Usually the first venture out of camp is dedicated to a show of the territory, but it's too cold. That would likely land us both in Swiftstream's den for longer than necessary." Striding forward once more, the Deputy forcibly reigned in her pace to a brisk trot as she began to trek in the direction of the hawks, hoping to ensure that Heronpaw wouldn't be anymore worn out than absolutely neccessary.

She nodded briskly in response of the weather, her lips seemingly sewed together by the frost that relentlessly burrowed deep into her bones, and she was pretty sure her voice wouldn't have pierced through the harsh wind anyways. While glad to know other clans didn't enjoy this weather, she felt a pang of annoyance in herself that she wasn't able to deal with it better - despite the fact this was her first time out of the camp she had spent 6 moons residing in. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be back there right now, without tears being pulled from her eyes by the wind, each pawstep feeling like she was fighting through a bramble thicket.

Heronpaw was oblivious to the hawk circling high above, too focused on her breathing in the wind, and she hadn't even thought about the fact there would be predators in the sky. Sure, she'd heard the tales, but right now that was the furthest thing from the apprentices mind.

As her mentor explained they'd be practicing hunting today, she felt herself regaining energy in excitement. Surveying the landscape through slitted eyes, she wasn't sure anything would be out here, but the little she-cat wanted nothing more than to have something to show off when she returned to camp - other than frozen paws and a dry throat. Glad to hear that the tour of the territory would have to be postponed - if she was being honest, Heronpaw didn't think she could actually make it - she followed dutifully after her mentor, falling in the pawsteps left in the snow. "Will I have to chase after a rabbit in this snow?" She mewed, forcing her voice above the wind, suddenly very conscious of the height of the snow compared to her legs. The apprentice knew she was unfortunately shorter than her denmates, disregarding age gaps, and she would definitely struggle a little more in the thick snowfall.

[OOC : Hunting System + Battle System. Essentially for quick nav purposes since we're gonna die like men in this topic.

"If we're somehow lucky enough to encounter a rabbit above ground in this weather, it'll probably in the talons of a hawk- and I don't know about you, but I'd prefer to avoid the same fate!" Brindleface lamented, sorely aware of how scant pickings often became during the worst of Leafbare. It often became commonplace to stock the freshkill pile with a plethora of moor-dwelling birds and rodents due to how infrequently the rabbits left the safety of their warrens. The higher they trekked, the less strenuous the snow-shoveling became; one of the patrols sent out earlier in the day had passed through the area, leaving behind a sizable pathway in the icy mixture of decaying heather and half-frozen snows. Eventually pausing several paces away from the jagged slope of the ridge they had been venturing along, Brindleface carefully pulled herself atop a frigid stone that laid in their path, mindful of the way that the soft crusting of ice splintered beneath her weights. It was difficult to spot movement on the moor whenever the snow and ice began to blend together in a rolling wave of drab greys and watery whites, and any additional vantage points could be the sole determining factor between a successful hunt or a day spent pursuing stale scents.

"It's difficult to give a proper lesson in weather like this, considering that you're more likely to slip and fall than actually learning anything of use. Even still, I think that trial and error is the best way to learn- after all, I could sit here and spend all afternoon attempting to explain a specific technique to you, but until you actually try it out yourself, it's practically useless." She mewed, paws shifting lightly atop the soft surface of the old stone. High above, the hawks were still circling, evidently unconcerned with the newfound presence of the cats. Whatever had attracted their initial interest was likely still somewhat close, or else they would've moved on. "Why don't you see if you can scent anything, there might be some birds to flush out of hiding." Brindleface eventually suggested, features partially masked in a steaming cloud of rapidly dissipating breath. "Don't worry about technique or finesse just yet, just see if you can even find something."

She purred weakly in response, choosing to conserve the energy required to respond loud enough for the deputy, hoping that she wouldn't take it as a flippant disregard of her joke and thinly veiled warning. The apprentice followed after her mentor, feeling the gentle strain in her delicate still kit-soft muscles, as each pawstep required a fair amount of leg lifting on her part to successfully clear the snow and not go face first in the frosted ground, no cat in their right mind would want that on their first expedition outside of camp. As they climbed higher, Heronpaw let out a puff of icy air as the snow relented its height, and she was able to place her alabaster paws forward with less effort and energy expenditure, and a rush of pride in herself flowed through, briefly replacing the ice that had burrowed into her veins.

She paused with her mentor, copying her surveillance stature, peering out across the almost completely white moor, catching every word her mentor said. "I'll do my best!" Heronpaw purred, glad her mentor was giving her the freedom to try and do this on her own, she only hoped that she wouldn't mess up a catch, prey was so scarce in leafbare - the clan didn't need a clumsy apprentice tripping over her paws, or scaring off a catch that could feed the kits that WindClan had recently had an abundance of. Tilting her chocolate-brown muzzle higher in the air, she inhaled softly, trying to avoid sucking in more cold air than absolutely necessary - her nose was already stinging with the icy winds - she tried to pick out a scent that wasn't hers, or her mentors.

What in StarClan was that scent? It hit her like a sudden newleaf storm, infecting her nostrils with the rancidness, and she shook her head, as if the scent would magically dissipate, as if it was no more than a figment of Heronpaw's imagination. Within moments she was proven to be wrong, and a horrified shriek tore from her mouth as she caught sight of the black-and-white striped enemy, lumbering toward the duo, hunger glittering in it's beady black eyes. "Brindleface! What do we do?" The young she-cat squeaked out, fur standing on end in terror, her claws sliding out instinctively. Oh StarClan, this was not what she meant by battle practice!

The member 'oryx' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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#1 'Prey Dice' :


--------------------------------

#2 'Hunting Dice' : 7

The member 'oryx' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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'Predator Dice' :

It was highly unusual for a badger to forage during the height of midday light, let alone during the coldest days of the season- but hunger was an inexplicable force that often drove even the most sensible of creatures into erratic behavior. While it usually preferred to spend the warmest portion of the day in the shelter of its den, and then spend the ensuing night out hunting, winter and the lack of a decent meal had force it to adapt to more unusual methods. Especially ever since the cats had come to the forest. Now that there appeared to be a steady population that was firmly encamped, sufficient food-sources had become quite the luxury, regardless of the season.

It was likely foolish to attempt to go after cats, considering that they rarely traveled in small numbers and were often quite adept at defending themselves, but sometimes they had prey that could be stolen during the heat of the moment. Shouldering through the protective encirclement of undergrowth and snow, the badger lunged after whichever cat happened to be the closest.

Badger used Full Force Tackle, Dealing -10 in Damage!

BADGER :
40/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
30/30 [HP]

---

A shift in the winds was the only immediate warning. "Get back now!"

The stale scent of snow and decaying undergrowth was lost amidst a storm of immense musk, a rancid stench of metallic sourness- an instinctive warning of danger that set every nerve ending alight with the stinging presence of alarm. Even before Heronpaw had effectively caught wind of what the scent actually was, Brindleface was vaulting down from the slight protrusion of the rock. ThunderClan had recently pushed a badger over their shared border, but all of the recent observations had relegated its position to sticking fairly close to the woodlands; not halfway to the camp! Sharp curve of her spine arching up as the untamed mass of her hackles rose in an impressive display of aggression, the Deputy was quick to close the limited distance between herself and the drooping sheath of hawthorn just as the badger exploded into the clearing. The resounding rainstorm of ice and half-frozen bits of foliage went sprawling into the air, showering down upon all three creatures atop the narrow ridge.

The badger, evidently too hungry to realize that the shelf of the ridge they were standing upon was actually quite narrow, was sent sprawling directly into the Deputy. The slick tread of the snow and ice beneath their paws left the pair floundering in an unsightly tangle of limbs and flashing teeth, Brindleface effectively trampled by the larger weight of the badger. The force of impact jarred her skull with such intensity that her vision quavered and her teeth rattled, inky dark blots momentarily appearing. However, the combative response that had been seemingly permanently ingrained in her muscles since the aftermath of the Great Battle immediately kicked into response. Swallowing down the worst of the stench and pain, Brindleface was quick to latch onto the nearest available portion of flesh with both claws and teeth.

Brindleface used Claws & Teeth, Dealing -9 in Damage!
Initial 4 in Damage + 5 in Damage Done by Dice.

BADGER :
31/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
30/30 [HP]

The member 'Seer' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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'Battle Dice' : 5

She found herself toppling back, everything in her screaming to run from the enemy before her, but there was no way she was going to leave Brindleface to die at the claws of the badger. A horrified yowl escaped her as the badger launched onto her mentor, and all she could do for a few moments was watch in a paralysed state, as if she were no more than one of the birds circling high above them, indifferent to the savagery going on far beneath. She wanted to rush to her mentors defence, but the most she knew about fighting was from her sparring with the other kits and apprentices, nothing in the realm of what was currently unfolding. The light-furred she-cat stood, shaking out the snow and debris that had made her pelt its home, and snarled at the badger, mustering every bit of rage - and fear - that she could to make herself look more threatening.

You have claws, and you have teeth, something rational murmured within her, and with that she took off after her mentor, who had begun to retaliate. Blood stained her claws as she ripped into the badgers flank, thanking the adrenaline that had begun to rapidly course through her veins, providing strength to her sore legs. Heronpaw watched in awe as white met scarlet, the snow taking on a ghastly look as it was forced to accomodate the new shade. The blood spread through the snow, much in the way it would through a cats body, and she forced herself not to recoil at the sight, instead choosing to be glad it wasn't her blood.

Heronpaw used Claws and Teeth, dealing -6 in damage!
(4 initially, + 2 from dice)

BADGER :
25/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
30/30 [HP]

The member 'oryx' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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'Battle Dice' : 2

It was difficult to recover in the initial aftermath of the less than dignified entrance, mostly due to the fact that the two cats immediately rounded on the badger. The instinctive surge of adrenaline sharpened its sense of focus in the moment, but did little to help fend off the fiery pinpricks of pain that blossomed in the wake of the little pest's claws and teeth. Shaking away both cats with an enraged bellow, the badger lumbered about in an ungraceful turn as it continued to lash and snap at both cats. Its eyesight was extraordinary at night, but certainly lacking in credibility during moments such as this- it was relying nearly entirely on its ears and nose, hardly able to discern the pale shapes of the cats against the stark landscape.

Badger used Talons or Fangs, Dealing -8 in Damage!

BADGER :
25/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
22/30 [HP]

---

Thin tendrils of bloodied spittle extending in a spidery web between her teeth and the greasy clump of badger fur that she had just been shaken free of, Brindleface could feel a residual ache building in the joints of her jaw from such a violent detachment. It was difficult to properly dodge or just evade getting stomped on in such a confined space, as evident in how she nearly got thrown back into the half-crushed hawthorn bushel, while Heronpaw was on the receiving end of poorly-coordinated snapping jaws. It was obvious that the badger was likely too hungry and frustrated to keep up the front any longer than necessary, but it was difficult to gauge just how much longer it could sufficiently last. And the longer they attempted to fight, the higher risk of more severe injury- especially whenever taking into account that she only had an apprentice who hardly knew more than a few play-tactics.

Spitting out a matted clump of foul-tasting fur, Brindleface hurled herself at the badger as it barley completed another half-turn in the narrow clearing. In those final mornings before the Great Battle, when death seemed imminent regardless of whatever side you happened to fight alongside, her father had taught her a series of moves that were looked upon as cheap, vile tactics; but sometimes cheap and unsightly made all the difference in a situation where survival was at stake. Lashing out before the massive creature had a chance to properly react, the Deputy's claws and teeth were aiming only for the most vulnerable points in the face, ignoring the resounding pained shrieks.

Brindleface uses Rogue Tactics, Dealing -10 in Damage!
Initial 8 in Damage + 2 in Damage Done by Dice.
The Warrior Code says, "Am I joke to you?"

BADGER :
15/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
22/30 [HP]

The member 'Seer' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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'Battle Dice' : 2

Delight fizzed in her paws as the badger stumbled around the clearing, disarmed and thrown off by the cats who danced around the beast, swiping in and catching it and it's blind spots - though with the sun gleaming upon the snow, everywhere had made itself into a blinding patch. As further blood made its way off the badger, she grew too confident and found herself taken prisoner by the snapping jaws of the badger. The pain rippled through her small body, and she found herself shrieking in agony, scarlet dripping down the gray patches that marked her forelegs onto the unflinching snow and ice beneath.

In a heartbeat, terror overcame pain, and she tore herself away from the badger, the scorching pain of her fur not making the travel with her and the rough exit of the teeth taking her breath for a few moments. Pain glazed her eyes, but it had sharpened her claws, and she watched in mute awe as Brindleface launched herself into blinding and seriously maiming the badger, a tactic she immediately knew was not to be used on other warriors. The ferocity of her mentor spurred Heronpaw into action, and she found herself launching forward once more, favouring her non injured leg. Satisfaction rippled through her as once more her claws connected with the badger's dark pelt, and she raked her claws down it without hesitation, finding herself seeking revenge for the pain burning in her shoulder.

Heronpaw wasn't ready for the sudden exhaustion that swept over her, tethering her paws to the ground and making her movements much, much slower than she would have liked them to be. That StarClan forsaken trek up this hill, her short legs, the fact she was barely just apprenticed, it was all snowballing into the weight of fatigue that she bore on her back. She didn't want to admit her weariness to Brindleface, or even to herself, but it was an unavoidable fact - she was no more than a kit out of her depth, fighting an enemy that grown warriors still struggled to fend off. The molly didn't want to fail her mentor, and she held onto that thought as she let a low growl eminate from her throat.

Heronpaw used Claws and Teeth, dealing -5 in damage!
(4 initially, + 1 from dice)

BADGER :
10/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
22/30 [HP]

The member 'oryx' has done the following action : Roll Dice

---

'Battle Dice' : 1

Driven half-mad by the blinding agony that radiated throughout numerous points of its being, and made careless by the mounting fury that bubbled up in spite of the dark wounds blossoming along its pelt, the badger let out a terrible roar that crept up from deep within the hollows of its chest. Despite its best efforts and hopes, there hadn't even been anything to steal from the pair of diurnal creatures. It could attempt to continue with the fight and test its luck, maybe see if could bring down either of the cats, but that ran the risk of incurring more injuries- a potential hazard that was nearly entirely not worth the risk. What was the point in fighting so hard for a meal, if it was just going to end up with a nasty infection?

Watching as the smaller cat backed off for a moment in the aftermath of its injury, and carefully noting whenever the larger had to pull away to avoid getting trapped between teeth and claws. Snarling again and revealing a terrible mouth full of teeth colored with decay, the badger furiously shook itself to try and clean off the worst of the blood. Bucking and lashing out at both cats in an attempt to drive them back further, the creature was quick to take advantage of the momentary reprieve and make a break for the previously trampled outlet in the clearing.

The Badger's health has been driven down below 1/3! The Badger has chosen to flee!

BADGER :
10/40 [HP]

Brindleface :
30/40 [HP]

Heronpaw :
22/30 [HP]

---

Muscles trembling under the ferocious strain of long-standing tension, Brindleface's spine curled upward in a defensive posture, baring her bloodied teeth as the badger began its slow-going retreat into the stiff sea of lifeless undergrowth. They'd have to sent a patrol out after it to try and keep it from its den, and hopefully drive it back into ThunderClan's territory. Possibly further, maybe as far as ShadowClan, if they could. Relaxing only whenever the sloped and stunted creature had completely vanished from sight, the Deputy was quick to rinse the worst of the blood and fur that clung unpleasantly to the overly sensitive length of her whiskers with a pawful of somewhat clean snow. Adrenaline bleeding away until only the gouging soreness of her wounds remained, her movements were awkward and favoring on the muscles that remained relatively free of strain. Heronpaw was practically swaying on her paws, easily moved by the robust bursts of the wind, mottled coat stained with the vibrant color of blood.

It was more of an instinctive reaction than anything else, really, when Brindleface made to lift the younger she-cat up by her scruff and deposit her more firmly upright. Despite being a permanent fixture in semblance of authority for her Clan, she would always be a mother first. Roughly rasping her tongue along the rounded jut of Heronpaw's cheek in an attempt to prevent the cold and shock from overtaking her system, she then moved on to inspect her apprentice's injured limb. "It's not too deep, I wouldn't be concerned about any long-term damage." Brindleface eventually conceded after carefully observed the jagged imprinting of teeth, "But Swiftstream and Softpaw will likely need to keep a close eye on it, just to make sure it stays clean and dry." Swallowing down the bile that rose up on her tongue at the taste of blood and badger saliva, the Deputy made a conscious effort to be as gentle as possible as she cleaned away the congealing blood that clung to Heronpaw's limb. "How do you feel?"

Relief glimmered in her eyes as the angry huffs and snorts faded, the lumbering gait of a bloodied beast making its exit from the clearing, leaving them to lick their wounds. Only, the young she-cat found herself so completely devoid of energy that a harsh blow from the wind would've taken her right off her paws to meet the ground that had begun to look more and more inviting. A yawn escaped her, red-stained teeth greeting the icy air that had whipped around them the whole time. Before she would've whined about the wind, but now it soothed sore muscles, and she found herself thankful for the way it helped to still her heart and provide comfort from her aching limbs.

The apprentice's eyes opened wide in shock as Brindleface drew her up from the slumping pile she had begin to fall into, Heronpaw felt a soft purr move through her body, and a grateful gleam replaced the exhausted one that had nestled into her eyes. As the deputy covered her in rough licks, stimulating warmth and fighting off the claws of shock, the molly gradually woke up out of her stupor a little more, and sat up straighter on her own.

A sharp hiss of pain escaped her as her mentor gently rasped her tongue over the bite from the badger, and she swallowed the pain, glad to feel the jolt bringing energy back into her bones. "Not great," Heronpaw spoke through a mix of pain and exhaustion, her voice coming out much quieter than she would've liked; she couldn't force it over the wind like she had before, and so she was grateful for the proximity she was in with Brindleface. "Can we go home now?" the molly asked softly, wanting to collapse into a nest and sleep for at least a moon. She knew when they got back she'd be pestered by the medicine cats, but she also knew once she was done there they'd let her sleep, and her mentor would also be able to rest herself - or so she hoped.

The worst of the blood flow successfully staunched itself, the delicate webbing of a freshly-formed clot creeping across the exposed muscle and flesh. There hadn't been enough time for the precious little defense mechanism to fully congeal and protect the deeper injuries caused by the badger, but it was at least something positive. It would likely get destroyed during the trip back to camp, considering how fresh and non-solid it still was, but it was hopefully enough to delay the worst of the bleeding until they could get to Swiftstream and Softpaw. Smoothing down the ruffled fur around the injury, Brindleface gave a short nod in response to Heronpaw's confirmation of what she had already anticipated. Quickly rising back to her full height, the Deputy's strained joints aching profusely in protest to the sudden extension.

"Of course," She agreed, taking a few steps forward so she was beside Heronpaw again, "The sooner Swiftstream can check you out, the better you'll fare. The quicker we get back to camp, the quicker we can make sure that the badger doesn't stay on our territory." Sharp points of her shoulders clearly visible beneath the untamed mane of her pelt as she shifted and stretched, Brindleface paused for a moment to allow Heronpaw her shoulder to lean against during the return to camp.