[Empress Of Evil]

Originally Posted by Constellation

Burningcall felt that he was wasting his time. Fighting with someone that wasn’t on his level. This Riverclan apprentice shouldn’t be fighting at all! What was Fallenstar thinking? Allowing the weaklings to fight? Burningcall would think Riverclan would show some power, but they were far from it. Burningcall thought Riverclan needed to stay out thisnfight as it wasn’t there’s. To think Thunderclanners needed some help. That proved that those tree climbers were far weaker than he imagined. And, to actually believe that one of his daughters joined Thunderclan! He was disappointed in Brindlestream. He wanted to meet her in battle and give her a painful experience for losing loyalty to Windclan. It was an aggressive thought, but he didn’t raise that ungrateful brat just so she could fight against her own birth clan! Burningcall disowned her moons ago when he learned of her questioning place.
If he wanted to fight against his own flesh and blood, he needed to quickly get rid of this no-excuse-of-a-cat. He didn’t prepare for the young cat’s claws to strike him. It left thin marks that burned, but the pain should subside in a couple days. It wasn’t a fatal move, and it was quite...well, as good as an apprentice could be. Burningcall wanted to chortle. He wanted to tell the apprentice to go back to the nursery where he came from, but less talking and more action was for the battlefield, so he thought these humorous thoughts instead.
When Burningcall bit the apprentice, he was sure that would make the riverclanner run back to where he came from. He could nestle with his mother and drink milk because apparently in Burningcall’s eyes, the apprentice wasn’t weaned off it. His teeth had clung to fur. When his enemy pulled his paw away, Burningcall spat out the fur with disgust. That taste wasn’t pleasant at all (no pun intended). It left the older warrior satisfied, ready to fight more. That move should had been enough to send the apprentice running away. Instead the apprentice was coming back for more. Burningcall’s wiry pelt stood on end, and he growled darkly. Not enough for you? The tom’s hackles rose. In order to act and defend himself, he got into a crouch, baring his teeth. He didn’t expect to be charged at once more. It made Burningcall roll his eyes upward. He stood up, nonchalantly. The riverclanner’s move was clumsy, aiming to strike at his face. Burningcall chuckled, and easily he managed to dodge without getting swiped again. Instead, to retaliate, he brought up an unsheathed paw and heavily swung it toward his opoonent’s face, hoping to knock him across the battlefield. It was all too easy. A little depressing that he was up against this apprentice. He didn’t like to fight unworthy opponents which consisted of young cats, but since this riverclanner attacked him first. He was only defending himself. Mostly it was also because the apprentice was from Riverclan, so Burningcall never felt guilty for bringing pain to an enemy.

Fighting this tom was probably pointless. No matter how confident he might be, Pleasantpaw knew that this tom had moons of experience that took away his chances. He would be lucky to leave this fight alive, let alone win. Leave now. Back away before you can’t, a voice in his head growled. But the stubborn apprentice let the words fly over his head. He wasn’t going to back away. This was his chance to show WindClan how powerful RiverClan was.
His expression was fierce as he lunged forward and he had stretched his claws as far forward as possible. The sooner his claws struck the tom’s face, the better. But of course, his move wasn’t well thought out. He had just acted in a panic. Pleasantpaw usually thought about his movements as carefully as possible. Obviously there wasn’t much time in a battle to be thinking about how to do one battle move, but he used whatever time there was to think about his moves. This move was different. It wasn’t planned out, he had just down it. The black and white furred tom’s yellow hues widened as the tom stepped to the side and easily dodged his attacked. He closed his eyes and braced for impact. The ground was hard and the grass was spiky. He wasn’t looking forward to landing. Pleasantpaw tucked in his paws and chin and became a ball of fur midair. He wanted to make his landing as soft as possible. But he never hit the ground. Instead, another force came flying out of nowhere and hit the side of his head, spending him flying in another direction. He landed on the ground with a loud flop, changing from a fierce apprentice to a pile of defeated fur. For a moment, he lay still and unmoving. His head throbbed with pain and he gritted his teeth and did his best not to scream out in pain. Every part of him ached. He just wanted to curl up and stay like that. He slowly got up but he was unsteady on his paws and crumpled back into a heap on the grass. His eyes were half closed and there were black spots in his visions. He was dizzy and every noise became muffled. It was taking all of him to make sure he didn’t black out where he was. Instead, he got to his paws and stumbled forward clumsily towards a shape that looked like the tom which he had just been fighting. He lashed out when the tom looked like he was within hitting distance, but really the other cat was a few foxlengths away. All of this movement turned out to be too much for him and he flopped onto the ground again and looked up weakly at his opponent.