NO MERCY FOR MEDDLERS \ scuffle

[MALLOWLARK]

The food situation was dire. Worse than he'd ever seen it; even when Windclanners had been crawling over themselves, hacking and coughing at the apex of leafbare, it hadn't been this bad. This bad this quickly, he should say. So when fresh prey-scent tumbled its way toward him, stumbling clumsily- oh, it was trying to give itself away, surely! Or, he was learning something from Dawnglare; listening to the earth, to the world around him. The whispers of Mother Nature called him to this prize, and he scampered after it, using the legs that had kept him living on those moors for so long- those stolen moors, stolen from him-

The squirrel was swiped up in a snow-flurry of grinning jaws, joyful and ferocious all at once. There wasn't much time to relish in this little victory, though- Mallowlark soon felt a great weight smash into his side, a sprawling starburst of pain against his ribs. It took all his strength to clamp down on his prey to keep it in his mouth.

It was another cat, but an unfamiliar one. A thin ginger tabby- boy, they had hit hard for their size! If there was anything Mallowlark was good at it was tracking- it took him only a moment to work out that this car was not of SkyClan, not of any clan. Their mouth was curved into a terrible snarl, and- Mallowlark could tell from the pain in his side that they weren't interested in befriending him. This squirrel was his, though- was SkyClan's. A tar-dipped paw swiped powerfully, and though he stumbled as he finished the strike he felt his claws tear face flesh. He was bigger than this scrawny, hungry-looking rogue- that was useful, at least.

Their claws flashed toward him, and Mallowlark ducked to dodge them- but they snagged his crouched shoulder, and he felt flesh tear. The white tom's grin sharpened into a snarl, and he jerked his head up to knock against the ginger cat's chin. Feeling the strike connect, Mallowlark's silver gaze flicked toward the cat- and they were running, form darting away like an insect. Mallowlark's form deflated into one of relief- and then, crumpled into pain.

He tried to heave himself to his feet, blood beading from his shoulder. Ribs throbbing, he could not get very far. "Ow... owww..." he complained between a gritted, reluctant grin and the scruff of his squirrel. His smile struggled to stick on his face.

☺PENNED BY PIN​

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[Hazelbeam]

What does she think of Mallowlark? He's funny! He has a great smile! He's a sort of kindred spirit of oddity and insanity and Hazelbeam has a fondness for the tom she does not quite know that well yet but found herself compelled to join in a hunt despite it. Getting to know him would be nice, more friends was always a delight and hunting was very much a need right now so she was happy to volunteer her services.
She hears the sound of cats yowling, a struggle, fur tearing and fighting in the distance and she pivots around to abandon her sparrow and go sprinting off in that direction, it does not take her long to see orange fur clashing with white and she gives a sharp yowl of her own in warning seconds before the rogue breaks away from the big black-footed tom to escape.
"YOU WRETCHED-STINKING-NO GOOD DIRTY-" Her voice is a series of short bursts of sound, angrily snapping and snarling in wake of the retreating rogues as she launched herself forward and after them but paused as she realized Mallowlark was not also giving chase to his attackers. Hazelbeam whirls about, pads back over to him on dark dipped paws and mewls fretful and worriedly over to the grinning tom with his bloodied shoulder and prize still intact.
"Mallowlark! They got you good huh? You going to be okay? Want me to take your squirrel for you so you can go see Dawnglare?"
She dances from paw to paw in front of him, worry making her restlessly impatient in wait of a reply. It is only after a moment does she flash a smile, showing her own teeth, "...you got a grip like a dog's bite!"
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[pollenpaw]

"Oh my gosh!" cries the little molly as she scampers over, drawn by the distant sound of a skirmish. Truth be told, her initial plan had been to run straight home for help --- she's barely trained! No way was she gonna just throw herself headfirst into a fight. But the cacophony had faded before she could, and with newfound courage (although that's perhaps a strong word, considering she'd stealthily crept her way to the scene and assessed the situation before emerging from the undergrowth) she arrives. "What happened?!" It's something of an obvious question, but she supposes she means, like... who happened. Or who did this. She studies Mallowlark's face, his ever present smile. How is he still smiling like that after being attacked? He sure is a weirdo. But, like, in a good way. He's got a good attitude! Pollenpaw appreciates the positivity. Even if his expression does seem strained. Who can blame him? He sure is in rough shape. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• POLLENPAW ✩ she/her, apprentice of skyclan, five moons
  ⭃ little cream tabby with folded ears, low white, and big green eyes
  ⭃ friendly, silly, playful, adventurous, tactless, oblivious, forgetful
  ⭃ mottledove x stormy; sister of aspenpaw and pipitpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by mercurial ↛ @mercuriial on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[edenberry ?!]

It should probably be a blessing to put that curse-inflicting man out of commission...

But Hazelbeam seems none too keen on the part where he was getting hassled about SkyClan's food. Edenpaw couldn't say they understood why everyone was so up in arms about the smallest mouse or skinniest squirrel but they shrug it off haphazardly, unwilling to remove the veil over their eyes that hid the daunting reality they waltzed through. Looking between the injured tom and the super nice, really smart, really cool Hazelbeam, Edenpaw flicked an ear at their den-mate with a small, exaggerated sigh. "Can't hurt that bad if you're still grinning."

Talk about a drama queen... Maybe Mallowlark just said stuff because he wanted attention or thought he was the funniest guy alive? Wait... did that mean he'd been lying about Orangeblossom and her weird protection from sass? Narrowing their gaze thoughtfully, they struggled to stay in the moment, where their clan-mates were offering more sincere aid and help.

Blinking away the unimportant concern with the journeying deputy, emerald eyes scan the direction where the bi-colored molly had chased off those trespassers. "Why are there so many idiots lately? They know this is our territory, right?"​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

“Rogues care for no authority and follow no rules,” comes a voice ringing with distaste from behind the gathered cats. Pine needles crunch underpaw as Blazestar—hollowed, hallowed, fur lit golden by the sun—approaches. His gaze flicks from the apprentices, to Hazelbeam, to the injured warrior slumped into the dust. Blood wells from new wounds, though, as Edenpaw points out, the white tom grins like a neurotic dog. His ears flick. Behind the strange smile is pain, weariness, and he can hear it in Mallowlark’s panting breaths as well.

“Hazelbeam, take Edenpaw and ensure the rogue has left our territory.” His mouth twitches. “Pollenpaw, assist me. We’ve got to get Mallowlark back to camp.” Even now, as Blazestar crouches on the other side of the ivory-furred warrior, he thinks he can catch a faint scent of the moor. It’s impossible—it’s been many moons since Blazestar had allowed Dawnglare’s disgraced lover to join the Clan—but he cannot stop the thought from crossing his mind even now.

“…You did well.” It’s forced out, and he does not look at Mallowlark while he says it. “Pollenpaw, get his other side the best you can. Help her, Mallowlark. She’s too small to support you without help.”

ooc ✧ 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓌𝓃, 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

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  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

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[MALLOWLARK]

All of a sudden there was another commotion, but this was one Mallowlark had a bit more fondness for. Hazelbeam's shouts rivalled a shrieking swan-song in their volume, and then she had whirled around, skittering from paw to paw, asking him question after question. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and the pain was therefore setting in... only when he'd been carved open by that hawk had hurt distracted him like this, so much that he didn't have time to answer her before there were more, more- not rogues, though. Clanmates. His gaze glittered a little at her praise- a grip like a dog's bite. He'd sure tried.

He dropped the squirrel at Hazelbeam's feet. She'd give it to someone who needed it, like they were supposed to.

His eyelids fluttered a little. It was soothing. "Oh, it's bad..." he hummed, hissing in a breath through his smile-fastened fangs. Really, he didn't know what else to do except smile. It was a reflex, something to hold on to, because he thought if his face dropped then he would feel a lot more pain than he was already feeling. "Rogues, yeah..." An answer for Pollenpaw, but not a very in-depth one.

From where claws had struck his shoulder, Mallowlark thought he could feel warm blood now dripping. Through a wincing-yet-grinning expression, narrowed silver eyes blurring the lines of his form, he looked over to Blazestar- You did well, said the leader. Exerted and often-willing as he was to take words at face value, he fretted not on the gritted nature of the praise. Slowly, he nodded- back to camp. To Dawnglare, Hazelbeam had said. He followed the leader's instruction, lopsidedly pulling himself in the direction of camp, attempting to stand as straight as possible- it was easier with the support. "Thumped me real good in the side, hah..." Mallowlark laughed, but- but it wasn't really a laugh. It was a sob, actually, a whine at the tail-end giving it away.

He was caught off guard by it, and- sure enough, his shoulders were shuddering in a rather uncontrollable manner. Crying, of course... like this, even when it wasn't so bad!​

☺PENNED BY PIN​