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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 21, 2007 21:17:49 GMT -5
Featherfoot's eyes flashed as his quick temper rose at the words, he didn't really care about the insult aimed partly at Cloudstripe, he thought her sweet temper to be irritating at times, though he knew that she was fairly formidable as an opponant. A growl rippled from his throat as he rose to his paws and lashed his tail furiously at the impertenant tom. He crouched, keeping light on his toes and locking his eyes on his opponant. 'Get out of the way.' he muttered to Cloudstripe, who backed up, eyes not leaving the two toms who were clearly about to fight. She didn't know how far the fight would go, and her stomach twisted in slight fear.
Featherfoot stayed crouched as he shifted from paw to paw, ears flat back and eyes gleaming in anticipation of the fight he would soon be enjoying. He held his tail low over the ground, it was still lashing angrily from side to side. Many a fight had started this way on his side. He didn't wait for Fierceclaw to make the first move, instead he lowered his body and then threw himself at his opponant with vigor. He aimed for his paws, as though he were going to try to knock him off of his paws, but at the last minute he whipped his head up and rammed into Fierceclaw's shoulder. Adreniline was now flowing freely through his veins, making his already strong muscles stronger. Blood roared in his ears as he unleashed himself with his hissing yowl that was his battle cry. He remembered his past fight with the apprentice that had teased him about his tail, his first taste of blood had been there, and it wasn't the only taste he had had.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 21, 2007 21:28:44 GMT -5
Fierceclaw, indeed, had been prepaired to spring upward and then land on top of the larger tom going for his paws. But Fierceclaw's sinses always seemed to highten when he was in a fight, and rarely lost his cool unless it turned out that he was loosing. Which was rare now that his training was complete...very rare. But at the same time, it's not like Fierceclaw had had much practice reciently. It was like riding a bike. This was what Fierceclaw was bred for. Generations and generations of selective breeding, and moons and moons of insane training and brainwashing hatred. Fierceclaw had been the result of this.
He was unable to move out of the way of Featherfoot's ram, and felt his head explode into his right shoulder and nearly knocked him clean off his paws, being smaller didn't help that. But Fierceclaw's left paw came up to latch onto Featherfoot's own sturdy shoulders, claws would sink in and he would use that as a sort of handle to keep himself from falling, and to pull himself closer to Featherfoot.
The once-prince of peakclan was silent, despite Featherfoot's battlecry and flattened his ears to his head, which would reduce the chances of his enemy being able to grab one of them. He used his pawhold on Featherfoot's shoulder to pull himself closer and lunged in to bite down on the back of Featherfoot's neck.
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 21, 2007 21:40:01 GMT -5
Featherfoot felt the claws in his shoulder but didn't flinch, he had felt worse than that, he had been almost killed from his wounds before. His wounds had been deeper than physical though, having been lied to and then betrayed by his own clan mate, having his own mother die in his paws because of his clan when he had been told all of his life that his mother had been a traitor. He had been nagged and teased for it, that and his tail that was too long. Images often flashed through his mind, reminding him of how his father and brother were killed before his eyes. His aunt was the only one who cared for him and she too had been ruthlessly killed by her clan.
He felt Fierceclaw's breath nearing him and he made a guess as to his intentions. He squirmed around, trying to get out of reach in time, but though his was fast he still felt teeth graze him and break the skin. He reared onto his hind paws slightly and twisted around to bite at Fierceclaw's face as he brought around his front paws to try and get wrap them around his opponant's neck and hold on with his claws. He had often used this tactic, he had used many in fact but this was one of his favorites. He felt Fierceclaw's claws tearing the skin on his shoulder as he reared, and this only urged him onward.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 21, 2007 21:46:38 GMT -5
Fierceclaw knew he wouldn't be able to push him off, and pulling away would risk getting injured by lingering teeth and claws. Instead, he collapsed once he felt the paws and legs around his neck before Featherfoot could bite down, flipping over onto his back.
The whole "never reviel your belly" saying didn't really apply when you knew how to gaurd it correctly. It actually threw off lesser trained cats because they weren't tought how to react correctly to a cat who had been back trained. Fierceclaw kicked up at Featherfoot's face and throat with his hind legs, moving them rapidly enough to where it would be an extreme act of Lady Luck for him to be able to get one in his mouth AND have time to bite down hard enough to do damage. He wasted No time in scratching upward at Featherfoot's now revieled belly, arching his back and snapping at Featherfoot's front paws.
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 21, 2007 21:59:32 GMT -5
Featherfoot was surprised as Fierceclaw pulled this unexpected stunt. He growled as he felt claws score him and then he scrambled back as he felt a claw snag his face and tear into his cheek. He shook his head once and then charged back in, refusing to retreat at all. He ran for him and then leaped the last fox length or two, aiming for his side. As he landed next to Fierceclaw he let himself fall to the ground and bit for his shoulder and stretched out a paw of unsheathed claws for the place between his forelegs. He stayed low because he wasn't too keen on getting scratched by the crazy wild claws that he had already felt. He knew that this wasn't an ordinary loner, this cat had had training, and hard training at that. Perhaps harder than his 'training' that he had recieved from his fierce mentor.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 22, 2007 11:12:33 GMT -5
((didn't really understand that, but i'll roll with it))
Fierceclaw felt claws dig into his foreleg, saw it, then shot forward with bared fangs to take a hold of the top of Featherfoot's leg. Fierceclaw didn't plan on biting down hard, just hard enough to get a good hold. He wasn't in this for a kill, but he knew all too well that if he bit down hard enough that could give this tom a perminant limp, forever reminding him of his "scuffle" with the prince of Peakclan. And then returned Fierceclaw's ruthless modivation. . .
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 22, 2007 11:26:50 GMT -5
Featherfoot growled as he saw Fierceclaw dart towards his leg but he also saw a chance to get a good bite and perhaps advantage. He moved his head forward and tried to bite down on the back of Fierceclaw's neck, nowhere near the spine but where he knew would hurt and maybe give him a handle to use to his advantage. He felt teeth on his leg but he forced himself to focus on the back of Fierceclaw's neck. He dug the claws of his leg that was getting bit deeper into Fierceclaw's foreleg and braced his other front paw on the ground, ready to pull back when he had gotten what he wanted. He kept his ears flat, knowing to well that they were easy targets when they were up. Through the pain he found himself enjoying this fight, as he did most. He was born to fight, he had fought when he was a kit, not just a tussle either, he had fought to avenge himself and ever since he had enjoyed fights.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 22, 2007 13:01:16 GMT -5
Fierceclaw latched on the upper leg of Featherfoot's paw that had been scratching into his, satisfaction mildly swelling in his chest. However once he felt teech close down on his neck and the pain burn like fire in his scruff. . .that satisfaction disapeared. . . and Fierceclaw went off. . .
An otherworldly snarl streamed from between his teeth and Featherfoot's leg just before he bit down. This was no longer a joke. He thrashed his head with more power than one might imagine possible for such a small cat, snarling in absolute rage and determined not to stop until his top teeth met his bottom through the denseness of Featherfoot's muscle. His fur stood up in that feral appearance and Fierceclaw, the small loner who'd been doing no more than swapping licks, turned into the monster that had slaughtered badgers and even some dogs. Who'd lead large hunting parties that went after prey as big as deer. It had been a long time, but that old familure feeling came back to him. That feeling that had driven him in that last battle with that cursed clan who had caused his fall. And Fierceclaw was no longer playing games.
But if Featherfoot somehow was able to REALLY think, and wasn't overwhellmed by the sudden vishious change in the cat he was fighting, he'd realize something. Or maybe the adrinilen rush and pain would temporarily block out deeper thinking like it usually did and he'd realize it later. Fierceclaw's neck. . . Featherfoot's assult on Fierceclaw's neck had caused the change between an arrogant loner and a merciless pit-bull. That must be where his weakness lied. . .or just his paranoya. . . or both. One couldn't really tell at this moment. But Fierceclaw's vishiousness would pass when his neck was released.
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 22, 2007 13:17:08 GMT -5
Featherfoot tensed as he felt his opponant's view of the scuffle change, he realized that this wasn't just a fight anymore, it was something more serious. He held onto Fierceclaw's neck out of reflex, knowing that he had an advantage this way, and that he would at least have his head out of the way of Fierceclaw's teeth. He did this whenever he was startled, he gripped something hard and didn't let go, and he was truely surprised by the sudden change. He could feel the throbbing in his leg, but he bit down harder, determined not to let go until his leg was released, until he felt safer, it was almost impossible for him to let go when he went into this mode, where every muscle clenched and tightned until he could barely move. All at once the peices fell together, the neck! He didn't know why but that's what had happened, the neck started it. Now how to let go? He forced his muscles to relax enough for him to get his mouth open and then he released his neck. He could now feel the pain in his leg clearly and he hissed furiously as he scored his claws across the tom's face in an attempt to get his leg back.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 22, 2007 14:31:36 GMT -5
Fierceclaw snarled and closed his eyes as he felt claws rake across his face for the second time that day. Hey! He was fond of his handsom face! How dare he try to mess it up? And for a moment, his sharp grip tightened, then he let Featherfoot go, Lowering himself to the ground and placing a paw over his muzzle, his body tencing every time he'd sniffle.
His eyes flashed open, pupils thin slits in his icy blue eyes and they gleamed in madness as he quickly registered Featherfoot's location. Once he saw he had jumped away, inwardly he relaxed and closed his eyes again, sighed, and sat up.
There was a bloody smear on Fierceclaw's black muzzle -- Featherfoot's, as well as blood streaming down his face and making his fur look wet. His figure seemed to blend into the darkness of the atmosphere around them, the shadows from the canopy. It was a sight that might make one whince, but Fierceclaw's eyes quickly regained that smug arrogance and he smiled, eyes narrowed to slits and his chin slightly raised.
"What is it about my face that you cats just can't keep your paws off of?" He asked with a sneer, satisfaction at seeing the red marks on both the cats before him, neverminding his own facial scratches, "Now, are you done acting like a blasted fool and ready to accept the fact that I'm better than you are? Or do I need to give you a perminant reminder?"
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 22, 2007 14:47:19 GMT -5
Featherfoot backen up a little and shook his pelt, resting the paw of his injured leg on the ground but not putting any weight on it. He stared at Fierceclaw, his green eyes glowing, showing his anger clearly. 'What is it about you that you just can't see that I'm every bit as good as you?' he growled. 'Or maybe you do see and you just don't want to admit it?' His words sounded disgusted and full of hate, but his eyes showed some respect in them mixed with his anger, here was a cat that was every little bit as strong as him. He was a little irritated that he had found his match, he wasn't sure if he could kill him if he wanted to, but for some reason he was in slight awe of this strong cat, he had clearly had great training. His curiousity had been tapped into, he wanted to know who this cat was, where he came from, what he was doing here, who his trainer had been. He tried his best to hide what he really felt about this cat but he knew that he hadn't hidden it completely, though he usually had good control over hiding his feelings.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 22, 2007 15:06:29 GMT -5
Fierceclaw, however, didn't give off any emphisis of respect, curiosity, or even interest in this cat. This cat indeed made a decient enemy. But there was no doubt in Fierceclaw's mind that he couldn't beat this cat if he set his heart to it. This was the way he was. Proud, merciless, vengeful, clever. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have been there. He would have died in training, along with his litter. Whether it would have been like his brother, who's haughtiness had meant his life when he got too confident of his skills and stood up to a gaurd. Or if it would be like his sister, who had lost her will to go on. Who could see the light at the end of the tunnel, but was convinced that it was too far away, that she couldn't make it. She died from infection and blood loss. Fierceclaw, however, had lived only because of the burning desire of revenge. Fierceclaw was no quitter, and had never gave in when chasing what he believed in, what he wanted. Who knew what Fierceclaw could have been to the lives of those around him if he hadn't had turned to the darkness, let it consume him. What a waste. . .
This was why Fierceclaw didn't give Featherfoot any credit. Fierceclaw had gone through hell on earth but had overcome. He was too arogant to allow equality to enter his mind. Too proud to believe or admit that he might not be so far ahead of the world in abilities and training. Too distorted to reason outside of his little world.
Fierceclaw snorted in responce to Featherfoot's words, rolling his eyes before licking a paw and swiping it over his face, cleaning the blood off, "Renew your broken confidence if you wish." He growled between licks, "But without purposly trying to state the obvious, I was toying with you, fool." That last move hadn't been playing. The fight might had started out as a game to this fallen Prince, but when Feather made a grab for his neck, all amusment had faded. And Fierceclaw had temporarily lost himself to rage and. . . fear.
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 22, 2007 15:20:49 GMT -5
Featherfoot growled, this cat was getting under his skin, even though it was pretty common for cats to get there none had seemed to get on his nerves as this one. He was debating on fighting him again but pushed his desire down, why was he wasting his irritation on this cat? He was trying to get on his nerves in Featherfoot's eyes, showing that he was angry would just give the loner satisfaction.
Featherfoot blinked, hiding his feelings carefully and then sat down with a shrug. 'Fine, believe what you will.' He shook his pelt and and seemed to turn all attention to it, ignoring Fierceclaw completely. He licked a paw and wiped his face and then licked at his injured leg before turning and running his tongue over his gray striped chest fur. Though it looked like he was ignoring the other tom though he was keeping a wary eye on him as he prodeeded to wash and smooth out his coat with his rough pink tongue.
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Post by fierceclaw on Sept 22, 2007 15:36:39 GMT -5
Fierceclaw smiled, closing his eyes as he whiped his face gently, ears turned back but not flattened and brows slightly furrowed -- if cats had brows, "My beliefs have a terrible habbit of being right." He stated bluntly, then got to his paws.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got prey to steal." He licked his lips, trying to rid his mouth from the taint of blood he'd gotten off his paw and then, without another word, turned and strutted off, his tail raised high like a victorious flag. He knew full well that they wouldn't be pleased with that comment, but was practically daring them to do something about it.
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Post by ~*Speckles*~ on Sept 22, 2007 15:48:41 GMT -5
Featherfoot glanced up and bounded after him, limping on his bad leg a little and having to go a little slower than he might have. 'Not on ShadowClan territory you don't.' He growled. 'Go terrorize another loner or something, unless you're too afraid of the loners and rogues around here to do that.' He snorted a little in amusement to himself and watched Fierceclaw, waiting to see what he would do. He glanced over his shoulder for a second and then nodded to Cloudstripe, who slipped off into the bushes. He turned his head and faced Fierceclaw again, flicking his tail low over the ground irately and put his ears back slightly. He didn't know if this would end in another fight or if the loner would go away and bother him no more. Either way he was going to be sure he did leave ShadowClan territory, with or without help.
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