blood like the river (rc/skc border clash)

Just as she was about to make good on Whitewhisker’s bet, RiverClan showed up to spoil their fun. Silvershade regarded the entire scene with an air of haughty, deadly amusement. Oh, of course a RiverClan patrol would walk by. Those bratty apprentices were likely saying their rude, impish “I told you so’s” in their heads. Really, SkyClan hadn’t caused any harm. Sure, Whitewhisker crossed the border, but none of them had taken any prey, they were all just looking to cool off. Her jade green eyes watched the scene unfold—and her mouth curled into a wicked smile at Whitewhisker’s bravado. Such foolishness, but brave and endearing. He would definitely prove to be a useful ally. She decided immediately she would continue her games with him after this confrontation.

The tone of authority was quite odd on Stagstrider, as she was so used to hearing it on Pinestar and Pepperstrike, but not him. She supposed he did have a place of authority as Pinestar’s kin, and the leader of this patrol, but she would only recognize the latter. Still, though, her claws itched for blood, and the responses of the RiverClan cats wasn’t helping. Arrogant mouse-brains, as if SkyClan wasn’t physically stronger than them. RiverClan might be adept swimmers, but they were fatter than the other clans due to their prey. An easy target in battle.

Silvershade preferred to hunt rather than fight, but wasn’t fighting just like hunting, in a sense? Except instead of mice and birds the prey was other cats.

Ashenfang—the new deputy—was a part of the patrol and Silvershade sized him up, and was rather unimpressed. Sharpfrost seemed to be speaking for him, and one of their apprentices clearly disregarded orders. How weak. If RiverClan was looking for a fight—and they would be, given what Whitewhisker was currently saying—they had one.

She joined Whitewhisker’s side on the bank, her claws unsheathed and teeth bared. “If you think we’re stealing your river that’s exactly what you’re going to get in return. Any mouse-brained idiot can see that there are no fish bones, we haven’t violated your hunting grounds… But if you’re asking, well, I’m certainly not opposed.”

Silvershade decided to jab the RiverClan cats where they hurt. The talk of Gatherings, the sad and withering Magpiestar. “What are you going to do if we did hunt?” Her mocking tone oozed and slithered like adder’s venom. “Go tell your clan grandpa?”




Notes: @ everyone
Credits: table by Atlanta. cat stock - here.

Ashenfang gave his initial warning, his voice ringing in the air like a drum of authority. And following it? The squeaky pip of an apprentice, ”Yea! Get out of here, go back to your trees!” The shadowed tom wasn’t sure what angered him more in that moment, whether it was the disregard of clan borders and blatant disrespect of his clan shown by this Skyclan cats, or the insubordination shown by his own young clanmante. He hissed at her sidelong from the corner of his mouth, jade eyes glancing to her in fury while his tail flicked in singular caution. No word was spoken from the deputy, but his meaning should have been clear: talk again, and I’ll box your ears right off that stupid little head of yours. Silently, he made a note to have a little chat with Foxpaw’s mentor once they made it back to camp after this little encounter. Her display was a clear representation that she held no respect for warriors ranking above her, and in Ashenfang’s case at least, no respect for her officers either. She needed reprimanding, punishment, and a quick turn around or she was going to make herself more than one enemy in her clan.

His attention was quickly yanked away by a subject serving to only increase his irritation. Whitewhisker was pushing his luck even more so, challenging Ashenfang’s authority with a dangerous disregard to clan laws and the warrior code. ”What if we say no? what if I don’t want to leave? You’re not Pinestar you don’t get to tell me what to do.” Before Ashenfang could verbally strip this pale tom of his favorite bits, Whitewolf cut in with a sharp retort. ”Shouldn’t of wandered to a place where your leader has no power then, minnow-brain.” Well, he was right, they shouldn’t have come here and then tried to hide behind their leader’s reputation. Ashenfang had every respect for the forest hued leader, but that respect was quickly dwindling in the face of this affront. Did Pinestar expect his authority to stand in other territories as well as his own? Or were his cats simply so foolish as to believe their leader’s name would offer them amnesty despite any offense? Whatever the case, they would soon be taught a lesson they wouldn’t forget any time in the near future.

’No… No, keep your head, deputy. Don’t turn this into a fight… Set the example.’ The words of wisdom passed through his thoughts with almost grudging determination. Oh how he wanted to sink his claws into these mouse-brained idiots, and show them exactly how much power he had over them. But starting a fight would bring nothing but hardship to his clan, and possibly incite a war between the two clans. Then again…

Sharpfrost spoke next, Ashenfang’s voice again stilled by his clanmates. Deep down, his pride began to sting and roil with unrest, everything in him balking at this lack of motion. He needed to bit and pounce and claw, at least give these foolish Skyclanners a good tongue lashing, but instead his patrol spoke for him and the annoyance of their defense was evident in the bristling nature of his dorsal fur rising in a stiff line of dark shadow. ”No, Ashenfang is not Pinestar, but your choice of words makes me wonder. Did your leader order this trespass? Are you attempting to claim the river for your clan?” Her voice carried in a threateningly low tone, her animosity clear in the low level of her lyric and the flattened display of her auds against her head. She was furious, perhaps just as much so as Ashenfang was becoming.

This time, Ashenfang didn’t want to interject, he wanted to listen. He was genuinely intrigued by what this pale tom might say. Would he indicate his leader in a coup to steal Riverclan territory? Territory that stupid Skyclan cats would have no use of even if it were under their control… Or would he claim responsibility for his actions, and confront his idiocy like a true warrior? The smoke pointed deputy had no doubt that his yellow bellied cat would do everything possible to avoid blame, and he wasn’t completely disappointed in that assumption. Delivering an arrogant smirk to Sharpfrost, an act which received him a menacing growl and the slide of a paw forward in a show of aggression from Ashenfang, Whitewhisker countered with, ”pinestar is only acting by what he thinks is best for Skyclan, and I agree with him!” His ears flatted against his head, and his lips curled back against yellow tinted fangs. ”you riverclanners, always flaunting your fish and your hunting grounds! Maybe it’s time that the river goes to cats who deserve it.” The white tom unsheathed his claws, the fur along his shoulders bristling with every dooming word, and his tail lashing behind him. ”I’m not afraid of any of you. Nor is pinestar, or stagstrider, or spiderfang! Skyclan will take what it needs, and we won’t lose in doing so.” Is that truly what he thought? That a lack of fear equated to invincibility? Ashenfang scoffed, honestly amused at such a kittish perception of reality. This fool was going to get himself killed, and then what? Would his lack of fear protect him then? No. In fact, it was more likely that in the moment a cat’s claws found purchase in the pale alabaster of Whitewhisker’s pelt that he would learn what true fear was.

Now another Skyclan cat joined Whitewhisker on the bank, a silver shaded female with the look of a high and mighty attitude. She too displayed her hostility in the flash of her uncovered claws and bared fangs. ”if you think we’re stealing your river that’s exactly what you’re going to get in return. Any mouse-brained idiot can see that there are no fish bones, we haven’t violated your hunting grounds… But if you’re asking, well, I’m certainly not opposed. What are you going to do if we did hunt? Go tell your clan grandpa?” And there it was, the thin line between offensive and directly requesting to have their pelts skinned clean off. Trespassing was one matter, directly insulting their leader? That was another level of stupidity altogether. She might not have known it quite yet, but that silver wraith had just signed a declaration of war. Ashenfang scanned her frame, memorizing every line of her coloring and form. He would remember her, and when they met again his claws would trace a bit of humility into her flawless appearance.

”You stupid, squirrel eating, crowfood smelling, tree living, house pets,” Again the riled insult came from none other than Foxpaw, as insolent and disobedient as ever. She sucked in a breath and continued, her body a threatening stance of flat lines and bristled fur. ”get out before we make you.” And something snapped.

Ashenfang had allowed much to transpire in the past few moments, but this was the final straw. He had had just about enough of this little pipsqueak and he had half a mind to teach her a lesson right there in front of this Skyclan patrol if only to dampen her incorrigible sense of power. She had no business speaking unless she spoken to directly, especially not in such an instance as this; and her unashamed ignoring of her deputy’s previous command spoke of her need to meet a stark justice. And these Skyclan cats? How dare they step onto Riverclan soil and then claim to have not violated their hunting grounds?! The contradiction of the silver fae’s words might have been amusing had she not insulted Magpiestar in the same breath. Their leader was old, yes, but he held more wisdom and tact than these cats combined. Old yes, obsolete no; Ashenfang was sure that had their leader been present they wouldn’t have been so quick to question the sharpness of his claws. But Magpiestar would learn of their words, and the dark tom was certain he would claim retribution for their actions.

Furry, indignation, insult, and pure unafflicted blood-lust fell upon Ashenfang in waves. This was over. Now. ”That’s enough!” Emphasis shook the air with his bellowing yowl, and a massive paw slammed into the sandy bank sending a spray of shatter shell and stone away from his own bared claws. His muzzle had twisted into a grotesque expression of something between fury and deadly calm. These Skyclan foreigners wouldn’t recognize it, but his own patrol would. They would see that face and now this was not the calm Ashenfang, this was the brute that had disgraced his own blood on the principal of honesty, this was the monster that had scraped and blinded the eyes of a badger threatening his clanmates, this was the stone that had buried his own mother without blinking an eye, this was the machine that could hunt and patrol for days without any sign of weakness. He had gone to a place without consideration, without worry; he was not the well put together cat his clan was familiar with any longer. Ashenfang had been silenced by a demon, and that was the face he showed then, the enraged face of a cat prepared to do the worst. ”You cower behind your leader’s name as if the idea of him will protect you here, but you forget yourself Skyclanners. This is Riverclan territory; our hunting grounds that you have violated with your rotten leaf stench,” He glances at the silver hued fae, his gaze pointedly marking her. ”I was prepared to forgive your trespass, but you add injury to insult by pushing your luck.” Now he was advancing upon Whitewhisker, challenging the smaller male with every slow, calculated step forward. Ashenfang’s body was a hard line of assaulting confrontation, each ripple of his well defined muscling a promise of the strength his massive frame harbored. ”You imply a want to steal our river? I dare you to try and take it. We will watch you drown in the shallows, and let the water claim your lives without lifting a claw. Or perhaps we’ll watch you starve as a bounty of prey you cannot hunt swims just out of reach of your dumb paws. You insult our leader, thinking his age makes him weak, but you are painfully wrong. His claws are sharp, and his mind sharper still, and if you are ever unlucky enough to meet him in battle he would skin your pelt from your bones with the ease of removing a fish’s scales.”

The shadowed deputy wanted to scare them, he wanted them to realize what kind of beasts they were poking at. It was common knowledge among the other clans that Riverclan cats stayed fat and healthy off the bounty of their watery hunting grounds, but the truth was quite harder than that. They stayed healthy, yes, but fat, no. Each one of his cats were trim and lithe with hardened sinew. Their claws were sharp and delicately pointed, meant for filleting the scales away from their meal and perfect for slicing through cat flesh. Their fangs were sharp and long, dagger points just waiting to puncture and rip. The truth of Riverclan was that they were just as deadly as any other clan, even more so with their liquid agility. They would tear these Skyclan cats apart without breaking a sweat in the process.

Coming toe to toe with the abrasive Whitewhisker, the cat that seemed to be spearheading this little excursion, Ashenfang stopped. He rose to his full height and looked down his nose at the other cat, his chin tucked to cover the vulnerability of his throat. Behind him, his dark banner was a feathered line of stiff hostility, every inch of his stance promising a hard fight should they ask for one. ”I won’t say it again. Leave now.” His voice was a growl of threatening intent, a deadly promise lingering in the grating undertones of his words. ”Or face the consequences.”

tagged | hisses at (northy ) foxpaw for speaking out of line, speaks mostly to (alee ) whitewhisker, with a pointed look at (shanny ) silvershade.

and all the rest (@aftermath ) rookpaw, (@dazed ) miststorm, (lord wolfscream✰ ) whitewolf, (skyy and her socks ) stagstrider, (@hawkpaw ) silverfrost, (@rain ) minkpaw, (hallelujah ) spiderfang
notes | sorry it's taken me so long to reply to this >.<
words | 2004