Everywhere around him, surrounding the older male at all angles, felines of all ages and breed were going at each other’s throats with slashes of claws and snapping of teeth. Flintheart was not a rookie when it came to a scene such as this, been on battlegrounds like this in the past, fighting against tough warriors and enemies of all sorts. The thing was that he was never expecting this to happen here, of all places, under the full moon at the Seastones, when things were supposed to be more peaceful and calming. He should’ve known something bad would’ve happened, right from the moment that Blazingstar declared war on Thunderclan out of fury for what Snowstar had done. It doesn’t even matter if this warzone doesn’t have anything to do with that, it was a bad omen from the very beginning and Flintheart knew that the gnawing feeling in his gut when he had sat beside Ebonypaw was not just some bad prey that he had eaten the previous day. “Ebonypaw, keep close!” He called to the dark-furred youth behind him as he dashed through the open battle with his tail lashing behind him with each step. What now? What would be the first place to start at a time like this? His greenish blue-hued eyes darted around, frantically switching from fight to fight in a weak attempt to get ahold of his current surroundings. The Burmilla had always known to go for a certain cat of a clan, but all of this was utter disorganized chaos. Eventually, his gaze landed on a pair of cats, one looking like a Thunderclan tomcat that he had seen before, but could not recall the name of at the moment. The opponent that he was facing was rather large and had a dangerous look in their eye, but they appeared to look more like some normal clan cat rather than a Dusk Syndicate member. Nonetheless, this feline was attacking one of his clanmates! “Get off of him, you dungheart!” Flintheart snarled, racing directly towards Spireflare with his claws unsheathing as he drew closer and closer. As he did so, he could only trust Ebonypaw to do something logical and not get killed while he saved one of their own. He bowed his head and slammed directly into the male with all the force that he could muster, for the time being, hoping to knock them off of Firefall and get a better advantage to defeat this cat. As he did this, the smell of Windclan went through his senses and he immediately knew that this was not some random feline that had no plan - this was a cat with murder on their mind.