Re: October Gathering
Quote:
Originally Posted by The Little Robin
@CandyFlossCat For some reason, throughout this entire battle, the older tomcat did not once have the fear of his own death appear in his thought process. There could be many various reasons for such a calm, determined demeanor within Flintheart right now, from the experience that he had with him due to past wars or just the pure, raw acceptance that he could die one of these days and he would not know it. To some cats, the thought of death or just dying in general was a terrifying thing to ponder about, however, when it came to the Burmilla, he would just block out the risk that he took when it came to defending his clan. If he were to die at an enemy’s paws, Flintheart would go down fighting and be happy that he went out while sporting his fierce loyalty to Thunderclan in his final moments. As his paws went against his opponent’s face and he was launched into the air, Flintheart felt like he was flying for several seconds, having nothing but fresh air around him at all angles and directions alike. However, as the Burmilla’s bluish green-hued gaze drifted down to see his foe when he’d land, he was soon brought to the realization that this Windclan male would take this time to dodge his attack and he did exactly that, abruptly rolling out of the way of his claws and into the grass, sending the grey-furred tomcat into the cold, loose dirt with a softened thud. Thankfully, he landed on his paws on the comfortable sand and soil, but it still sent Flintheart into high alert, knowing that he was now exposed to attacks from the ginger-furred warrior that he was currently facing. The two were soon face-to-face once again, a deadly silence going between them as the fury of claws and teeth went on around the felines without much mercy, however, it did not take long for Flintheart to notice that Spireflare’s eyes were not locked onto his own, but the bare flesh of his untouched neck. He possessed the look of a killer within his eyes, wanting to rip his throat out within mercy and it made the taller male stiffen, but he did not show fear nor hesitation in their current stance as the Burmilla just stared at him with his own look within his gaze. “Do your worst.” The look within his eyes said in silence and like a bolt of lightning, the muscular tomcat was coming right towards him with his claws stretched out and his jaws parted in a fearsome snarl as he aimed to end this fight now. Flintheart was ready though, ready to die, ready to defend his clan to the very end if that was what it took to prove himself. His lips peeled back into a threatening growl as his whitened bare teeth gleamed in the darkness. Time itself seemed to slow for a few short moments as the Windclan male grew closer and closer to him, but then, without any warning or preparation, another force knocked Spireflare away, midair, immediately saving Flintheart from his most likely demise. He watched, frozen in place, as the two males fought now before him. At first, the Burmilla expected the other male to be the Thunderclan male that he had been working to save earlier, but no, this was another Windclanner - who looked similar to his opponent. He did not take the time to put two and two together due to the fact that the other male soon had his foe in a scruff lock, immobilizing him and preventing any further harm to come to Flintheart or himself, for that matter. Fireflare looked directly at Flintheart, eyes showing deadly slits as he ordered him to go. This shook the older warrior from this frozen stance, giving the other tomcat a dip of his head as he backed away. It was true that the Burmilla was many things, but he was far from stupid - he knew when it was time to leave and now was that time. He turned and walked away from the two Windclan cats, now focusing his attention to the Thunderclan male that he had saved from being killed. He looked down at the orange-and-white furred tomcat for a moment, feeling the sting of the wound in the side of his face as it was soaked with scarlet blood. There were slashes on his sides and even his flank that dotted his grey fur with red splotches, but it did not matter any less to him. Flintheart dipped his head ever so slightly to Firefall with a flick of his ears as a friendly, almost casual greeting. “Are you alright?” He said, his tone soft as he lifted his gaze to look the male in the eye now. |
Firefall blinked as the tom who'd fought his battle, ignoring the pain pulsing in his body. "I-I'm fine." He stuttered, much to his surprise. "A-Are you alright?" Gah! He'd just met this tom, and he was stuttering like a lovesick cat. That couldn't be the case. Right? The tom's scent was familiar, he was obviously ThunderClan as well. Firefall felt his heart give a few harsh thuds as he calmed himself. "I-I mean..thanks." He mumbled after. This tom didn't have to save him.. but he did. And Firefall would be forever greatful. He was conflicted between his embarrassment for his lack of battle training, and his greatfulness towards the Burmilla who saved him. The result was a stuttering mess of a fluffy tom. He swallowed and tried not to burst into a purr of gratitude. His pelt felt warm, and it might have been blood, but perhaps it was just because of this tom. Firefall felt odd about this thought process, because he'd always considered himself to be more attracted to toms, but not like this. This feeling was new. And not the best thing to be thinking of in a battle, the claws and fangs latching to pelts was enough to startle him back to reality. His fur once again cooled, so it was that tom that caused it. What would his Clanmates think if he told them? They were both ThunderClan, but it wasn't that common a thing..at least, he didn't think it was. But maybe..nobody would care? He blinked. This was crazy talk! He'd just met this tom, barely spoken to him, and gotten him injured, and now he was thinking like this?! This battle was getting to his head, or was it the striking toms apprea-he needed to stop! He'd been awkwardly silent for too long now. "Uh..again, I appreciate it. I guess i'm not a good fighter." He mewed, chuckling slightly. Oh StarClan, he shouldn't try to make conversation, he was terrible at it. Firefall swallowed and glanced into his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he hated it. He was being creepy, he was sure of it. His fur fluffed with embarrassment, and he then blinked, realizing. No going back now. "Uh, sorry, I forgot to..ask, I suppose. What's your name? Mine's..Firefall." He mewed, realizing a battle wasn't the best place for this conversation after he spoke. Why did he have to be so...weird? Talking about names in a battle? Firefall knew that was odd, but he couldn't contain the words flying out of his maw. He sighed inaudibly, his ears pinning back slightly. Now this tom would think he was weird, or scared of him, or something!
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