[Fawn]

Racing to the scene of the battle, Fawnsqueak's sides heaved with exertion, his head hanging low as he scanned the chaos. His clanmates defending themselves against sharp-toothed coyotes, howls, yelps, the coppery scent of blood, everything was moving too fast. It made Fawnsqueak's head spin wondering where he could find an opportunity to jump into the fray. Spotting the incoming coyotes heading for the weakened RiverClan cats, he ignored his burning muscles to lunge toward one with a menacing hiss, unsheathed claws digging into its back. Fawnsqueak had been ready for the creature to twist but even so, its snapping jaws and long rows of cat-shredders momentarily caused him to lose focus in instinctive panic.

Shaken off, he went tumbling to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs. Fawnsqueak was given no recuperation time because the coyote was hot on him, and he squealed as it clamped down on his flank. Fawnsqueak's body spasmed and with a surge of strength, he burst from its grip but staggered, sloppily on the retreat.