Howlfire's fur prickles when Hawkpaw finds a dead squirrel, showing it to her littermates and talking about whether or not to show it Blazestar. It's simple chatter but Howlfire still feels uneasy about the situation. These kills look recent, the blood seems fresh, which means that whoever did this probably wasn't far. Howlfire looked wearily at her children, willing them to focus and listen.
When the rogues start to spill out from between the trees, it all falls apart so fast. One, two, three...eight of them emerge. Their eyes are a blaze with fury, lips pulled back in snarls. Instinctively, Howlfire's fur rises on end, glaring at the rogues a small warning growl in her throat. She does not like how close they are to the apprentices, how they get up in her children's face as if making them the primary target of their ire. The rogues themselves make light of the young cats on patrol, reminding the warriors they had not forgotten what had been done to them and declaring that they would not be driven out again by kittens.
There is no warning when the ambush begins. No time to shout a warning to their apprentices, no time to step in and intervene.
Howlfire is horrified as three warriors lunge at her children. Figfeather is the first of the warriors to engage these rogues, rolling and thrashing with a dark warrior. Ultimately, the rogue gets the better of her, overpowering her and knocking her to the floor. Despite Figfeather's attempts to break free, she cannot shove the rogue off of her, and her own cries mingle with those of the kits as teeth bite into her shoulder.
Hawkpaw and Wolfpaw are on the floor now, cut and bleeding in the snow. Blazingpaw is still standing mercifully but he foolishly makes a charge forward to help his fallen sisters. "RUN!" Howlfire urges him, narrowly dodging a a paw to the head. She has to duck to avoid a large tabby tom but when her gaze finds her son again, her amber eyes find him being picked up the bicoloured molly, being shaken around like he was nothing. When the rogue is finished and the damage done, she merely drops him to the floor, discarding him like a worthless piece of prey.
"No..." Howlfire's eyes travel over her children one by one, her heart hammering so hard in her chest it's a miracle it doesn't burst out. She can hear their weak pleas, mumbling in pain, calling for her and each other. Their blood stains the snow and Howlfire is reminded of Morningpaw. Were their injuries as severe as hers? Was she watching her children bleed out and die as she had watched her sister? No. She could not do that again. She would not do that again.
Fire burns behind her eyes and Howlfire's attention goes to the tabby rogue nearest to her. He's smirking at her, perhaps sensing her pain and anguish, but the amusement does not last long before Howlfire rakes a claw over his eye. She doesn't know if it does any damage she just wants him out of the way. Howlfire's primary target is the russet-pelted she-cat who had gone after Hawkpaw.
Howlfire charges at her, truly embodying the fire with which she shared a name. Howlfire puts all her weight behind shoving her opponent to the ground. Howlfire was not as large as her father and brothers but she had the same ragdoll blood running in her veins, the same larger body that at this moment had an advantage over the smaller rogue. The rogue falls down to the floor and Howlfire takes the chance to stand on her shoulder, flexing claws into her flesh.
"G-Get off!" The rogue hissed, thrashing to break free. She doesn't seem to notice that her movements were making the wounds on her shoulder worse.
Howlfire hissed in her face. "You'll regret picking a fight with kits. With my kits!" She growled. And then her teeth were at the rogue's throat, blood spilling into her mouth. The rogue squeaks, muttering something about wanting to be freed, but Howlfire does not relent. She holds firm, shaking the rogue for good measure, trying her best to ignore the blood in her mouth, the blood that stained the ground and was staining Howlfire. The torbie did not let go until she finally felt the russet-pelted she-cat go still, easing her grip and letting the other cat flop listlessly to the floor. Howlfire's head bowed over her for a moment before lifting to look at the nearby rogues. Her maw is stained red with the blood of the rogue, dripping down her chin and staining her neck. Howlfire's eyes are still ablaze with fury and as she looks at the rogues she pulls back her lips in a snarl, exposing bloodied fangs. "Leave," She hisses in a low warning. If they stayed then so be it...she took no joy in killing would enjoy punishing all those who had attacked this patrol and hurt her children.
