[wickedvirtues]

Originally Posted by TheLittleRobin

A warm, gentle smile appeared on the older tomcat’s maw as he looked at the orange-and-white-furred warrior before him. “I am relieved that I could get here in time to save you.” Flintheart remarked, his tone softened and rather casual as his tail swished behind him in a back and forth motion, “I was very fortunate to escape with my life after fighting that savage male. He was aiming to kill anyone that he could get underneath his claws, without a doubt.” He shook his head silently, thinking back to the crazy, enraged look that Spireflare had in his eye each time that he had come charging towards him. However, the Burmilla drew away from these worrying thought and focused on Thunderclan tomcat that he had rescued, bringing his attention to him for the moment and ignoring the fact towards the chaos that was surrounding them at the moment. “I’m alive and that is what is important.” He said, glancing behind him to check on the deep slashes that were currently on his flank and coated his blackish grey-colored fur with darkened scarlet blood, “Some scars will be left after that fight, but it was all worth it to make sure a clanmate did not go to Starclan on this night.” That was just the kind of cat that Flintheart was, hardly caring about his own well-being and putting effort towards his own clan and the cats within it instead. He chuckled ever so quietly at how shy and stuttery this cat seemed to be, perhaps it was the shock of battle or just the rush of adrenaline. “No need to thank me for this, I’m just doing what any noble clanmate would do for another warrior of his own clan.” The Burmilla simply remarked, feeling the sting in his face beginning to fade to just a numb feeling in his cheek. He hoped that the flow of blood soon come to a halt due to the fact of what a burden this would be for grooming afterwards. “Ah, don’t say that. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses when it comes to helping a clan survive.” Flintheart said, hoping to reassure the male’s doubts about his fighting abilities, “It just happens to be a coincidence that I have a strength when it comes to combat after many moons of practice.” It came to slight realization to how long it had been since he had truly had a real conversation with another cat of his own clan, besides his own apprentice. This tomcat was interesting and a unique character, unlike most of Thunderclan that he had took notice of in the past. “It’s Flintheart.” He said, giving another lightened nod of his head to his own introduction, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Firefall.” Most cats would be on edge when talking to someone with basic war going on around them, but to Flintheart, it was nothing new - perhaps he was too humble for his own good. “Do you need any more assistance from me?” He decided to ask, feeling his paws grow a bit uneven underneath him, “Do you think you can fight or head back to camp on your own now? I want to make sure you are safe, of course.” Flintheart was not used to being social like this, leaving to be a little awkward now and then when talking.

Firefall returned the smile, a purr building in his throat. He didn't full out purr, because that'd be odd..odder than he was already acting. "And i'm greatful. My mentor spent most of my training on hunting, not fighting, so I would have been crow-food." He admitted with a small chuckle, somewhat blaming his mentor for his poor preformance, somewhat his anxiety. It was a mix of things that almost got him killed. "Sad, really, that he would aim to kill under..what's supposed to be a truce." He sighed, glancing around at the chaos, his ears pulled back. He swallowed a wail of terror. War under the full moon! His fur had smoothed. There were a few scratches near his chest that had torn away fur, the area clotted with blood in the remaining fur, he had scratches around, and his fur was dusted with a thin layer of dirt from being tackled to the floor. Firefall spotted the wounds on the tom, concern flooding his chest. "You should get those checked by the medicine cat, when the chaos dies down, you know..infectiony stuff." He mewed, unsure why he felt so frightened at the thought of the tom getting an infection. Clan loyalty? Something more? Adrenaline pumped through Firefall's veins, the threat of almost dying was still fresh in his mind, his tail flicked and he felt like he needed to run back to camp and be in the warm safety of his nest. But he was no coward, he wouldn't do that. Firefall spotted a flash of black fur, belonging to an apprentice, close by, surrounded by a crowd of cats. He wasn't sure why that tom stood out, but he just did. He didn't look too injured, so he tore his gaze away. "Heh, I suppose you're right. I could stock the whole prey pile." He jokingly boasted, his tail curling. "My mentor hated violence, honestly I don't know why they were made a mentor, so they never really taught me battle moves." He admitted with a tiny shrug, jealous of the cats with well-rounded mentors. Firefall sucked at maintaining conversation, but this one seemed to be going decently well, shame they were in the middle of a giant battle, or he'd sit and be more comfortable. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Flintheart." He mewed, dipping his head quickly. He liked this tom. He seemed witty, respectable, and intelligent. The type of cat Firefall liked to hang out with. Firefall then heard the roar of battle in his ears, startling him slightly. He must have been tuning it out as he spoke. He hated the sound. "Er, I think I may head back, I'll be no use here." He mewed. He didn't know how to heal correctly, or fight well, he'd be an easy target. He simply smiled as Flintheart remarked he wanted him to be safe. The thought made his tense muscles relax slightly.