WHAT I HATE THE MOST // skirmish

[SOOTSTAR]

// @SPIDER @SLIME @MUD @TUGGER @ember This will be a quick skirmish!! Nothing too terrible and at worst for injuries likely deep scratches and bruising ^^ Soot is planned to fight Mud but aside from that, anyone can fight whoever! sry this is kinda cringe I wrote it up rq. anyone can post in any order just make sure we're giving time for everyone to reply

Three marsh cats roamed out of bounds today. One of whom was small and blue, an easy opponent one would probably think at a glance. She was not to be underestimated though, small and dainty she may look but she was swift and clever. Not to mention her tongue was nearly as sharp as her claws. She travels by her companion's side, the intent? To hunt within the pines. It was no secret the marshs lacked prey, decent prey. Especially as of late... they were lucky if they could get their paws on crowfood. So here they were, walking on soil that was once theirs.

The blue molly, Soot, strolls about with her maw ajar to taste the air. There's not a tense muscle in her body, she does not see the felines who roam the pines as a threat. They'd let her group hunt and be on their way... or she was not afraid to draw blood today. She was hungry and eating for multiple, she found herself in a more irritable mood at this moment than usual.

She licks her maw when a strong scent of a squirrel is blown in her direction, "Squirrel." simply and swiftly she alerts her companions to its nearby presence. They follow it, all doing their best to collectively track it down... and they were successful. Together they teamed up to hunt it, and right as one of them was about to go in for the pounce... a flash of fur!

A shocked Soot jumps up from her hunting position, it didn't take long at all for anger to roll in with that initial shock... A pine cat had swooped in and stolen its prey. A hiss rips through her throat as she storms over, "Hey kittypet! That squirrel was ours!" she informs with a lash of her tail and narrowed eyes. "I suggest you give it back to its rightful owners now. If you hadn't come along it'd be in our claws and we'd be out of here by now!" She didn't want to stick around in a land that stunk of kittypet any longer than she had to... despite how much she missed the forest.​

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[MUDPELT]

Mud hadn't been the one to catch the squirrel. He never did have a talent for hunting, but he was doing his best to keep up with his denmates as they tracked down the very same squirrel that the marsh cats had been after. The scent of blood hit his senses, and he knew then that his companions had been successful. The tom cantered towards the smell, panting slightly (it had been a long morning of hunting!) before the sharp words of an unfamiliar cat were heard. He arrived at the scene with amber eyes wide in alarm as he took in the sight of the three strangers. Stars, he hated conflict.

He took a step towards the blue-furred she-cat, ears angled backwards as he was never a very dominant tom. "Hey, let's all just relax! I'm sure there's plenty of other prey in the forest!" He tried to reason, looking to avoid any sort of immediate trouble. Sure, he wasn't fond of the other group, but confrontation just wasn't his strong suit. Besides...the she-cat in front of him was clearly pregnant. Maybe a moon or so along? He was a father himself who had a mate go through such an experience, and he definitely didn't want anything to break out with a queen present!
​

"speech"​

 

[FLICKERFIRE]

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╰☆☆ Like Soot, Flicker is not afraid of conflict. She welcomes it, savors the idea that her claws may meet another's fur and flesh in battle. Though she respects Briar's position on not wanting needless war, and she certainly isn't keen on attacking a cat half her age, as Willow had done, she firmly believes the forest will be better once rid of the Twoleg-loving vermin lurking in the pines.

Soot spots a squirrel almost immediately. Flicker glowers, silent for once, in her spot behind the smoke. So much prey, and they probably couldn't even catch it! The thought infuriates her further.

She watches Soot stalk the furry critter and nearly catch it when a flash of brown fur skids before her. It had happened quick enough to give them all whiplash--and Soot's fury is instant and sharp.

Flicker looks with some disbelief at the brown tom. Handsome, if you were into that sort of thing. He immediately exclaims that there's plenty of prey in the forest. Flicker's paw pads tingle and she thrusts herself forward, almost into the earth-colored tomcat's face.

"That's exactly what a kittypet who barely has to hunt for themselves would say!" She hisses, extending her claws. Plenty of prey, and yet the cats in her home have become irate from raw hunger. Limited to frogs and lizards and rats, which always pose a significant danger to them. Yet these pine cats never look half-starved. She bets none of them have had to rely on carrion before to survive!​

—PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

"Sounds like you're making excuses for being poor hunters." Tugger hisses at the pair as he comes up on Mud's left side. He places himself a paw-step ahead of the tall tom, protective. His nose wrinkles at the stench they bring with them, the combined stink of peat moss and frog liver. Peat moss, frog liver, and the wretched scent of trespassing. The pine-lands belonged solely to the cats around Rain's command as far as Tugger was concerned and he'd be damned if he let these mutts walk all over his group members as if they had any right to their home.

"Go back to your swamp. Your kind aren't welcome here." Marshers. The kind that would attack a child over a scrap of a mouse. The kind that would defend that action with insipid words about confining youngsters to camp instead of controlling their bloodthirsty members. The kind that would steal prey out of cats jaws for the inane crime of wearing a collar. The kind that believed that hailing from a house or home was some sort of holy injustice that proved that a cat was not of proper wildness.

He hated them. He hated their entitlement to his home. He hated their snobbery over his peers. He hated their scent. He hated their very names. HIs claws slipped out of their sheathes and a snarl etched across his flattened muzzle. Damned mutts, why couldn't they just stick to their swampy hovel?​

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[honey]

Fritter is following after Tugger, two-toned eyes wide as she watched a flash of brown steal a squirrel, though was it really stealing if he had gotten to it first? Her eyes narrowed. Ever since the thing with Finch, she had hated them. A colony that couldn’t keep their claws to themselves, attacking a child, even Fritter knew that the cats of Paris would never stoop that low. She stops, a bit away, eyes narrowed. Her pelt is burning, was it anger, shame, disgust? An ear flicked. “Elle est chiante.” she speaks towards Tugger in frustration, her normally soft, hushed voice now gruff.
Her tail lashed and she couldn’t contain it. “Thats exactly what a group that would attack… a child, a child would say.” shes so angry, upset and nervous being here that she stumbles over her words and stutters. English wasn’t her strong suit. Unlike Mud, Fritter had no qualm with a queen being here. On the streets, it was a “talk shit get hit” kind of deal, no matter who you were nursing. Why wouldn’t this group, the very one she resided in, adopt that rule? It was getting annoying.

 

[SOOTSTAR]

Soot lets out a scoff of disbelief at the brown tom's words before her. Plenty of prey in the forest?! There most certainly was until these pests came along! Furious her blue fur stands on edge, the small she-cat now looked slightly bigger than she usually did. Though she does not acknowledge them she agrees with the words of the fellow marsh dweller at her side, only a spoiled kittypet could say such a thing...

An ugly creature born with an unfortunately flat face hisses an insult to them. Poor hunters...? Their skills were hardly at fault when there was no prey on their land to catch! They were lucky when they stumbled across something deceased. "Our kind isn't welcomed...? As if we aren't the kind who roamed this land long before you cats did! You are the cats who are not welcome here, the cats who stole our land." Yet they keep acting righteous and innocent... acted like the swamp cats were vile and cruel for being angry.

Despite being on opposite ends, Fritter and her unknowingly agreed. Talk shit, get hit.
Soot had hoped Briar would've laid claws on these cats a long time ago... and Soot was now officially impatient.

With no warning Soot attempts to launch herself at Mud Pelt, hoping to dig one set of claws on the top of his head and another on a shoulder. If she could she'd aim to bite down on one of his ears too.

//theres not enough cats for this to be a fair fight rn so if it stays like that ill have soot prob realistically retreat in a post or two ^^​

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[FLICKERFIRE]

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╰☆☆ Flicker's nose wrinkles at the ugly, flat-faced red tom who joins the brown one's side. Where the first had been handsome, this new one was arrogant; he looked down his malformed muzzle at Flicker and Soot, ordering them away as though he owns the forest himself.

The tortoiseshell paws the ground once, as though it's a hoof and she's a steed prepared to launch herself across a race track. Her eyes are locked onto the ginger tom's brown ones--that is, until a third cat joins them, petite and with her ears slicked back against her skull. She utters something Flicker cannot interpret, but the tone is clear: condescending and hostile.

Her tail lashes. Oh, if only Briar hadn't demanded they all keep a cool head! Flicker is burning with the intense desire to claw the fur from these fools' pelts! She forces herself to breathe, looks crossly at Soot, and then quirks an invisible brow. The blue queen is riled, perhaps even more than Flicker is; without any sign she is going to do it, Soot flings herself at the mud-colored tomcat with her claws and teeth bared.

It's all the signal she needs. Flicker lets out a hooting laugh and cries, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Giving Tugger a smoldering glare, Flicker would attempt to lash out at his shoulder with her unsheathed claws. However, she leaves her flank undefended when she immediately darts toward Fritter and aims her teeth towards the she-cat's left ear.​

—PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

The beginnings of a French response is on his tongue when the ugly little tortoiseshell had the audacity to try and land a blow on him. Try is a bit of an understatement, as Flicker's claws do rake his pelt and leave the ginger king with an annoying stinging sensation, but his attention is immediately redirected when it lunges towards his smaller companion. A snarl akin to a roar drips from the flat-faced tom's maw, and BARRELS INTO THE OPPOSING SHE-CAT, CLAW OUTSTRETCHED, THROWING HIS WEIGHT INTO HER AND SHOVING HER INTO THE DIRT. He is not completely sure why the attack on him left him so much less angered than the nip attempted on Fritter, but it is pure rage that seethes from him now.

He lunges forward for one of her feet, AIMING TO CHOMP DOWN ON THE BONE AS HE WERE A RAPID DOG. It is pure carelessness that leads him to position his face so close to his opponent's claws, but he doesn't care at this moment.​

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[honey]

“Tugger!” an exclamation of surprise as Soot flung forth and she rushed closer- only to realize that Soot had completely ignored him. A breath of relief as she opened her mouth to talk to him, turning her head, she hasn’t stopped moving but searing pain scorched through her head, her ear was on fire. She feels the warmth of blood bubble to the surface as she jerks her head away, eyes landing on the tortoiseshell femme that had attacked her. Anger, shock, embarrassment all coursed through her at once and she huffed, unsheathing her own claws. Tugger is quick on his paws, shoving her away but she can’t help but pity these two for at least trying. A terrible attempt at an attack. “Do it right, next time.” she hisses out, shaking her head to get rid of the blood droplets that had to begun to bead.
Shes quick to recover, aiming to lunge at her and hold her down with her front paws, so Tugger could have the upper hand . But… Remembering the fact her ear was chomped- I mean, hell, who even goes for the ear? She was angry, and she attempt to lean her head down and clamp on to a shoulder, tail, anything she could get her teeth around. She wouldn’t kill, no, though she has before, and would not be afraid to again, but these Marsh cats are skinny, scrawny, perhaps they’d run away with a firm beatdown.

 

[pumpkin]

Pumpkin is excited to be involved in something, and eagerly follows Flicker woth bright eyes. She likes the spitfire of an older female, she thought she was so cool, and thus she had chosen to stick with her. She could not hunt, she was practically useless to this patrol, but she had sharp eyes and a remarkable sense of smell, so that counted for something right? Eh, maybe the group wouldn’t know she was useless if she played everything out with enough confidence, she could just convince them! Yes, a good plan…
Everything else happened fast, though. One moment she was following after Flicker and Soot, the next someone stole a squirrel from Soot- those dirty kittypets! “Plenty other prey in the forest!?” she exclaims, angrily as her stomach rumbles. The most she had eaten were lizards and bugs, They can go home whenever they want and get as much food wherever, and they want US to share? Shes opening her mouth for a barbed retort of venom before Soot lunges. Her stomach twists. This was bad. She didn’t know how to fight, mother never taught her, that damn old hag! Shes bitter and loathed the fact that she had a cruel mother before Flicker joins in too, immediately ganged up by two cats which meant she had to step in. Pumpkin is downright terrified as her paws move by themself and shes running towards the yellow brute. She thinks back to the time she boasted about her fighting skills and wishes that she hadn’t been lying. “Get off of her!” Pumpkin screeches as she attempts to ram full speed on the side of Tugger, and if that worked she’d bounce back to her paws, bouncing around with adrenaline. “How about you fight a fair fight, ugly? Mister I got my face smashed in already?” she’d hiss, more than mad and shes throwing out insults that sound so lame that she’d be ashamed that Flicker had to hear it. She was ready for what came next, what would hit her next. Sharp breath in and out, she was focused, prepared.

 

[MUDPELT]

Kittypet? Mud would take some offense to that! "Hey, I was born by the river!" He argued, sounding more insulted than angry. How dare anyone mistake him for being a soft kittypet? Sure, he had friends that hailed from the Twolegplace, and he respected them, but...come on! Tugger and Fritter arrived shortly after, and the antagonizing was now going both ways. Mud looked towards his companion with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. Technically, this oak forest wasn't either of their land...they couldn't really chase them out, could they? Especially a pregnant queen? "I-"

He wouldn't get to finish his sentence, as soon enough a weight knocked him to the ground. The tiny queen was surprisingly strong for how, well, pregnant she was! A yowl of surprise escaped him as he was pinned, claws meeting his pelt. The queen's gnashing jaws chomped closer and closer to his face, the only thing keeping her teeth from meeting his ears was his limbs, paws grappling at her chest. "AH! This queen's crazy! I don't wanna hurt you, pregnant lady!" He would screech wildly - perhaps it even looked amusing to on-lookers. A massive tom, built with muscle, unable to deflect the attacks of a tiny, plump woman out of fear of hurting her and her unborn kits. Pure comedy, surely. "Mercy! Mercy! I surrender!" He continued to hold her away from him, flinching as flying claws met his face and shoulders. Ice wouldn't be happy when she saw these scratches!
​

"speech"​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : he hadn't wanted a repeat of the oak forest. truly, despite his anger, the last thing he wanted to do was beat a kittypet into leaving the forest. his approach was silent behind the rest of the patrol, pale eyes watching the skirmish and attempting to stifle the brief amusement he feels at watching soot shout at the creatures despite their predicament. as if on cue his stomach releases a weighty growl, then, as if forcing his attention back to the nauseating pain rolling, crashing against his stomach lining. he'd not eaten ; too many young in their clan, some only just born, and being a warrior of decent enough health he'd solemnly refused. the starvation was beginning to infiltrate his skull, bringing his mind to a dizzy haze, feeling very nearly as if he were not getting enough air. hunger shook his limbs and bit at his muscles, but the adrenaline bursting just under his pelt kept him going. if he'd ever done anything, it was keep going. he would deal with the bloodied paws he'd have from dragging himself down this path eventually.

things went south quicker than expected, and the feline looking alarmingly similar to a squirrel who'd gotten it's face brutally kicked in is lunging towards flicker. his ears perk and in a flash, he is lunging for the cinnamon tabby he'd chosen foolishly to protect, claws outstretched towards her lengthy, oriental shorthair - thin neck before she can assault the tortoiseshell as well. coming from the side, he aims to slam his sharp - knuckled paw, claws outstretched, into the space between her shoulderblades to shove her to the ground using his upper body weight. should he succeed, he would aim to sink his teeth brutally into the side of FRITTER'S throat and jerk her neck back sharply, painfully, nothing near a fatal injury but enough to prevent her from aiding her pitiful group any further, and hurt. pumpkin aims for the hideously squished tom, and dubs him such as she acts ; in any other situation, he would've snorted. the brown male who'd taken their kill begins to squall his surrender and his ears pin in disgust, pale luminaries flitting towards the mud - colored piner with a look that could obliterate a lesser - willed feline.

too late, now.

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty two months old, marsh group member
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

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[FLICKERFIRE]

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╰☆☆ Things begin to move--fast--after the two sides clash in a mess of fur and claws. Flicker feels her claws part the Persian's skin, the slip of his blood in between her pads, but it's a surface wound at best. Her attention had turned almost immediately to the molly the smush-faced cat's chosen to protect; Flicker's teeth impale her ear, and the tang of the she-cat's blood stings her tongue.

She has little to no time to react when the ginger cat she had slashed tackles her; his bulk, far outweighing the lean tortoiseshell's own, sends her stumbling into the pine needles and dust. Flicker is dazed, almost dizzy with the impact. She begins to rise again, but not before the brute has locked his teeth into one of her paws. She screeches and uses the free forepaw to aim a clawed smack across his short, stunted muzzle.

The femme she'd bitten reacts, attempts to hold her down, but she's squirrely and manages to break free of her grasp. The teeth that find her tail, though, cause her jaws to click together in a stunned display of pain. "Do it right next time," the kittypet tells her. Flicker has her tail in one cat's jaws and her paws just barely wrenched free from another's; she's grateful for Pumpkin and Cicada's assistance, though she does little more than give each a curt nod.

Her paw pads burn, and her tail has lost a brush of fur just below its tip. She waits to catch her breath on the edge of the fray. Cicada has launched himself at Fritter, and Tugger is dealing with Pumpkin now. Her flame-colored eyes scan the forest line, daring more kittypets to emerge. Despite her injuries, her blood has been set ablaze.​

—PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[Rain]

Rain cannot believe the audacity of the cats of the Marsh Group. Had they not proved their point already? Had they not suffered enough for their crimes or simply existing in the same forest as the marsh cats?

When he had heard the sounds of fighting he almost could not believe his ears. He almost brushed it off, he didn’t want this to be happening, but sadly, it was and sadly, he would have to unsheathe his claws and fight, as much as he did not want to.

Before Cicada can sink his teeth into Fritters neck, Rain comes barreling out of the underbrush, a furious yowl escaping his lips and the fur along his spine sticking up and making him look two times his already large size. He aims to slam into the black smoke tom and send him flying away from the strange-tongued she cat ”I bet you marsh cats feel real strong, beating up a bunch of kittypets” he hisses at them

// mentions @DISTANT CICADA and @fritter ​

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[honey]

Fritter is about ready to snap. “Get over yourself!” she hisses through Flickers tail fur, towards Mud. Now was not the time to play submissive- She wants to chomp down, take this very tail off this marsh cat, shes angry, livid that the other pine cat was shrieking like a kit. Flicker is squirming and her eyes are trained on her, too focused and Cicada catches her off guard. There a flash of pain on her neck as she jerks, and blood is spattering across her cinnamon fur. Heavy breaths left her mouth as she let go of Flickers tail with a screech- she could not tell if it were out of pain or anger that she had let her guard down.
What happens next is that Fritter is slammed to the ground, slightly dazed with parted lips. She rolls, its a life or death situation and she can see the flash of teeth. Would they really kill me? Is this the end? She musters up all her strength, pushes off and staggers to her paws, nearly tripping in the process. Rain shows up and the pain in her neck is more than unbearable- these marsh cats hit hard. Everything feels muddled but she flings herself back in to the fight, claws outstretched as she aimed for a cheap but fast paced slash at Cicadas face. Shes beyond pissed off at this point, but theres an angry calm thats settling over her. She licks her lips, a huff leaves her mouth as she lashes her tail, she was back on the streets of paris and she’d fight for her survival.

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : blood lathers over his barbed tongue in a drip of honey - thick iron, throat clicking against the urge to gag at what spatter flicks towards the back of his throat. the sink of his teeth into flesh is not often unaccompanied by the bow of his head, closing his icecap eyes and words of thanks spoken to the soil ; its vicious, now. the resistant pop of teeth sinking into flesh, bits of cinnamon fur lining his gums. he lands heavy on her, though too - thin arms failed spectacularly at holding down her squirrely form. she's shrieking, her odd vocals resembling the shrill, lamenting songbird that had all now grown silent overhead. in any other situation, he'd have inquired about her accent ; his own twoleg city heritage bringing his own dark tongue to a strange, harsh tone. the thought is quickly pushed from his skull as the force in which he lands awkwardly between her shoulderblades creates an unsteady enough footing that he topples just slightly with her frantic movements, ripping teeth from the girl's flesh with an audible pop and allowing her to pivot around towards him. she's dazed, stumbling to her paws and weak. hot blood pumps fast through rabbit hair veins, head spinning with adrenaline, starvation, and an ice - cut fury that shone feral in the frozen depths of his eyes. he feels almost too light as he poises to take his next snap, too ready, bloodied maw open and --

he's slammed from the side by a massive force, ribcage shocking with the pressure of the hulking kittypet and he can feel them grow tender with the hit, bruises forming heavy over tender muscles before he hits the ground - and hit the ground, he does. cicada skids roughly a foot, his lithe figure thrown easily by the maine coon's sheer size, lungs deflated in a long, wheezing gust of air. rain had arrived, yowling his fury and bristling, his already excessively-large figure brought even more prominent. for a fleeting second, all he does is blink. it's his turn to be dazed now, and in doing so, allows fritter to flit out and catch him over the eye. he snarls and in desperation, attempts a fast snap at her cheek before he lurches back, jerking himself out of range of the cinnamon tabby and settling into a crouch, curled tail wrapped tight over his side. a vicious growl marks the fresh opening of tender skin, a driblet of blood seeping from the nick over his left eye and onto the cornea, leaving his vision marred slightly red. a paw comes up to rub roughly at it, ears pinned to his head with the sting. rain's words seemed to process, then ; and despite himself, cicada barks a cold, loud, bitter laugh.

" that's all you will ever be. " spitting hiss, and he sounds rabid -- the blood coating his monochromatic maw in shades of blushing red now turning to dry rust. he's still low to the ground, coiled close to himself as he stares up at the bristling, blue - silver tom. the one who had put this little rag - tag team of mongrels together and stole food from its rightful owners, from their youth. kittens were starving, and they could have had dried rabbit dung in a bowl - esque bits to live on comfortably for their entire lives ; most of their kind didn't live hardly as long of those pampered haustiers," you lived like kittypets, you will die like kittypets : beaten and starving without your twolegs nest to run home to. " his head tips, his spine arching and fur bristling with cold rage ; he had no chance at fighting the bigger tom with his willowy frame and ribs that ache with each quick, rapid inhale.

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty two months old, marsh group member
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers
  
  
• haustiers: pets.

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[SOOTSTAR]

Spark turned into a flame as felines on both sides flung themselves onto each other, teeth bared and claws prepared to cut into the skin. Mud Pelt's denial of no kittypet heritage isn't enough to cool Soot's fury, every move she makes had the intention to wound, with blood pounding in her ears she hardly even notices her colony has sprung into action alongside her.

Her attempt to chomp down on his ear fails as paws against her chest deter her from reaching her target. His unwillingness to fight back irritates her, she wanted to spill blood, it was the only thing at this point that she felt may relieve some of her fury against these parasites. If he wouldn't fight all she'd be doing is beating up a pathetic tom... and unless she desires to kill why waste her energy?

"Pathetic!" Soot would attempt to spit on him before too eagerly looking for the next cat to sink her claws into. By now she realizes her own colony has jumped into battle, Rain himself was even here! She finds herself half-tempted to go straight for him- most cats she would not kill but him? Maybe squishing him would send the others fleeing.

But reality punches her in the face, knocking her thirst for blood down just enough for her to come to her senses. They were overwhelmed right now.
It takes her swallowing a shit ton of pride, but she lets out a high-pitched yowl to inform her colony she was abandoning the scene. No more of this... to Briar she would go, to Briar she would plead for a fight against the Pine group. They needed to at last drive them out once and for all... and Soot did not care any longer if lives had to be laid down for it.

Into the shadows and foliage of the forest, she vanishes, only stopping to peer behind her shoulder for any friend or foe pursuers.

//the fights p even but I wanted a reason for this fight to end quickly! but that being said I'm not forcing anyone to icly flee so take your time ^^ Imma post a return to camp thread I think so feel free to reply to that marsh ppl B)​

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[Rain]

Rain watches Cicada with eyes narrowrd in anger and tail whipping furiously behind him, waiting for the tom’s next move, daring him to come at him. ”and you will die like the flea ridden mongrel that you are” he retaliates with a hiss ”why don’t you come over here and see exactly how sharp these kittypets claws are” he taunts, stepping forward, a challenge blazing in his yellow eyes. If Cicada or any of these other cats wanted a fight, a fight he would give them. They were nothing but a group of bullies, disgusting and pathetic, did they not have anything better to do with their time but come here and start petty squabbles?

Rain watches as the smoky she cat announced that she would be retreating, listens as she sounds the call, but he still stands his ground, wanting to make sure every last one cleared out of their forest before he dared take his eyes off them. ”yes scurry back to your swamp and if I see any one of you back here again I’ll be glad to show you how you wild cats bleed just the same as kittypets” he calls to their retreating forms, hoping that he’s gotten a message across. They had their chance at being civil, at being friendly. He was done.

Once he’s certain that they are gone, he turns to his own group, worry evident on his face. ”everyone okay?” he asks, letting his fur finally lay flat with resigned sigh. Why on earth were these cats so hell bent on causing problems? He could not, for the life of him, figure it out.
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[MUDPELT]

After what felt like forever, he was able to stop fighting back the molly. She leapt off of him, sounding off that she was retreating before disappearing into the undergrowth. A large exhale signaled his relief as he relaxed, slumped on his back against the floor. Finally! Flopping onto his belly, he scanned his denmates, finding Rain among them. "Thank the stars you showed up when you did!" He beamed towards their leader, clearly already over the skirmish. Awestruck as he was by the older tom, he just couldn't hold back boasting about him. "They sure didn't wanna take you on!"
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"speech"​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

Tugger opens his mouth in a yowl as claw rake over his perfect muzzle. Blood drips into his mouth, his own this time, mixing with the blood of the marsh cat. The tastes are indistinguishable, but Tugger has a distant thought that he is sure to be tainted now by what he has ingested. He aims for another blow but he is blown off course by a tiny weight, merely enough for him to lose focus. The ginger king swings around, claws at the ready, to find himself face-to-face with a child, their chubby little face contorted into confident rage. Something seethes in him then, the thought that these marsh cats were using their young as soldiers makes him want to rush the pregnant she-cat that had attacked Mud - the leader of this bridage as he saw it.

But before he could even solidify his thought, she had turned tail and ran, the rest of her rogues following suit.

His wounds sting as he falls back to his own leader, fury blazing in his gaze. He allows himself a moment to assess Fritter before addressing Rain. "Those mutts are pushing too far." Tugger spits. "This idiot didn't even prick up a hair before that swollen dog jumped him. Why are we putting up with this? We belong here, this is our home, but they are intent on violence and war."

Enough was enough. Fritter was hurt. Mud was hurt. His family had been attacked and his home threatened and still those cowards could run away, free to try again another day, maybe with more cats at their disposal. "We should be tearing them apart and leaving the scraps for the crows."​

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