Wake Up Call [Event 1.S.R]

[TANGO]

wake up call
EVENT ONE, SHADOWCLAN & RIVERCLAN

MINUTES AFTER MOONHIGH. If anyone inside RiverClan camp were awake to hear, the disturbance in the night would sound just like water voles scurrying through the grass. Or perhaps the noise would be mistaken for the wind rattling the reeds—if anyone were awake to hear it. But tonight there is neither wind nor water voles. The faint sounds outside RiverClan camp come from a much more menacing source.

Brokenstar has assembled ShadowClan troops outside the walls of RiverClan's camp. Warriors and apprentices wait with unsheathed claws, ready to reclaim the territory Leopardstar has threatened to take away from them. Brokenstar waits until the moon is high in the sky. When it is, he gives the signal. Attack!

---

PARTICIPATING: Any ShadowClan warriors and apprentices. Any cat of RiverClan.

NOTES: ShadowClan cats can enter fighting at any time between now and the end of August. The element of surprise is on their side. RiverClan cats will awake to find themselves under attack. They must defend themselves, wake up the cats who are still asleep, and protect their weak. More details here.

[TANGO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true] [atrb=style,width:320px,bTable] i see demons all around Didn't seem right, Alderthorn thought, taking RiverClan by surprise. Hadn't seemed right when they'd attacked ThunderClan's camp the same way either, but he hadn't been part of that battle. Now that Brokenstar had dragged him into this one, his conscience was beginning to get the better of him. Stop whining, complained a little voice inside his head. Are you ShadowClan or what? The voice was right, he supposed. He was ShadowClan. And when your leader told you do something, you did it. That was how clans worked. This meant that when Brokenstar gave the 'go' signal, Alderthorn had to listen. His claws unsheathed, he barreled forward with his fellow ShadowClanners into RiverClan camp. Adrenaline from going on the offensive soon drove out any form of conscience from his mind. Tonight, it was kill or be killed. Never having been in RiverClan's camp before, it took him a couple of seconds to get his bearings. He followed the strongest scent to the warrior's den where the majority of RiverClan was blissfully asleep. Not for long. He leapt onto the first sleeping form he could find, awaking his first victim with the blow of his body weight. WORDS: 199 TAGS: open. credit to ALPHA of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Moli]

Graystripe's dreams were hazy. Sometimes he dreamed of Silverstream. Other times, he dreamed of being in ThunderClan, with his Clan mates and friends. And sometimes, he dreamed of nothing at all, wandering through darkness, looking for anyone, anyone at all.

Scents drifted over him, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming again or not. His nose twitched. What was it? Then he heard something. Something is wrong.

Then there was a thud of body weight on his chest. He let out a gasp as the wind rushed out of his lungs. Sleep blurred his reactions, but he flipped instinctively to his other side. "ShadowClan!" He hissed, and then repeated it in a yowl. "SHADOWCLAN! RiverClan, we're under attack!"

He struggled to his feet, battering at the nearest ShadowClan scent he could find.

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

Duskfire was not happy when the gray Thunderclan tom's yowls dragged her from her sound slumber. She'd been dreaming about Mallowkit and Petalkit, her lost siblings. It wasn't a visit from Starclan for they were all still young. No, Duskfire had been living out a memory, a memory of when Mallowkit and Petalkit had both been alive and well. Petalkit had just flung a piece of freshkill into the air and Mallowkit was about to pounce when her dream suddenly shattered for the chaos that was the warrior's den. And she was quite ticked by the ill-timed wake-up call and was about to box Graystripe's ears when the stench of Shadowclan hit her nose.

She wanted to retch at the offensive smell, and her claws came out. Something was terribly wrong - Shadowclan was here. With an angry yowl, Duskfire launched herself at the first Shadowclanner she saw, landed on its haunches. Furious, Duskfire began dragging her claws through the other cat's pelt and seeking flesh to get a grip on so she wouldn't fall off. Then she threw her weight to the side to off-balance the invader, although she didn't have a whole lot of weight to throw around and it was likely that her efforts wouldn't be enough to fell the beast. But the chances were they'd end up with a nasty claw-mark up their flank if they weren't off-balanced enough to make them fall.

Unfortunately, her efforts to off-balance her opponent also brought her down, and she used her strong river-toned legs to push off of her opponent so she wouldn't be trapped underneath them should they fall as well. She landed hard on her shoulder several mouse-lengths away, and her body came to a stop as her back collided with another cat. Whether it was a Riverclanner or a Shadowclanner, Duskfire didn't know as she got back on her paws, ready to leap back into the fray.

[TANGO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true] [atrb=style,width:320px,bTable] i see demons all around Alderthorn had the upper hand, catching his RiverClan opponent by complete surprise. An opponent couldn't really get much more unexpecting than being asleep. It was a shady trick, but it could very well win him the fight. His guilt was assuaged a little as the tom he had leapt on jumped awake and turned to bat at him. Recoiling for the impact of a claw in his face, he recognized the silver tabby at once, from both his fighting technique and his scent. Graystripe. He was an experienced warrior, and the last thing Alderthorn wanted was to slaughter some twelve-moon-old who had just earned his suffix. And, Alderthorn remembered, as he geared his back legs and launched a powerful kick at the tumbling mass of gray fur, Graystripe was a traitor to the Warrior Code. He was only in RiverClan because ThunderClan had kicked him out. A traitor tom, Alderthorn thought gruffly. Now here was an enemy he didn't mind fighting. He twisted around, grabbing at the tom with his front claws now. WORDS: 177 TAGS: graystripe. credit to ALPHA of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Blush]

Fogstep raced through the entrance of RiverClan camp with a wicked gleam in her eye. This was what she loved: using her claws, drawing blood, leaving scars. It was battle lust. She could fight a fellow ShadowClan for all she cared, so long as she inflicted pain on someone. This attack was the best idea Brokenstar had had in a long time.

She followed the ShadowClan patrol to the warrior's den, where she knew her chances of bloodshed were greatest. Oh, she'd love to sink her teeth into an apprentice or a little kit of course... but not with so many witnesses around.

As she rushed into the fray, a skinny calico collided into her. "Oh hello, dearie," she mewed softly before launching herself at the RiverClan warrior. Her years in the ShadowClan underbrush had taught her to keep her belly to the ground, so she crouched low as she swiped a front paw in Duskfire's direction, aiming for the she-cat's soft side flesh.

[gray]

This was it. Leopardstar so obviously thought that he wouldn’t make her pay for her actions. She had spoken carelessly, clearly making no effort to think of the Clan that she loved so much—any fool could see that crossing Brokenstar was a frog-brained idea. He had driven a Clan out before, and he could (and would certainly) do it again. There was no way she could stand against ShadowClan’s greatness; he had overseen the training of his entire Clan as soon as each cat could walk steadily. His Clan was silent, stealthy—like the shadows they had been named for, the shadows that they lived among. Then, on his signal, the shadows came to life and poured into the RiverClan camp like murky streaks. It took several moments for the foolish fish-eaters to come to their senses, but soon there were yowls sounding throughout the entire camp. Good, thought Brokenstar with morbid satisfaction. He wanted to hear their screams before they were silenced. They had to pay for their leader’s stupidity, after all. Too bad she hadn’t been able to realize her mistake until now.

Now, don’t speak of murder. Brokenstar was not on a mission to murder tonight—in fact, he never was. His purpose was to show the forest what triumph looked like, to show them all that he had made his Clan strong. Ruthlessness was the key, not murder. He had to think of what was best for the Clan, and what was best sometimes seemed wrong to others. He himself had no problem with his actions, but others couldn’t seem to see past their ‘morals’ and ‘ideals’.

Tonight was more a mission of revenge (for being made to look like a fool) and a lesson (to teach the others that he could do anything he wished to do). Brokenstar streaked into camp ahead of his warriors, as was proper for a leader of nay sort of caliber, and scented the air for the cat he really wanted to fight: Leopardstar. He would settle for the tiny little calico that had screeched at him at the Gathering, as well, but he desperately desired a confrontation with the spotted tabby leader. Bowling over a small RiverClanner that got in his way—whether an unusually small warrior, an apprentice, or a wayward young kit out in the open, he cared not –he couldn’t locate Leopardstar. What a cowardly act, hiding from his wrath.

She had brought it upon her own Clan; the fault was all hers.

word count // 418
ooc comments // none
tags // Leopardstar, come play!

[selkie]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=width,376,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-image: url('http://myprofilebackgrounds.com/myspace-backgrounds/images/Colors%20~%20Grey/BlackAndWhite-1.gif'); border-top: 5px solid #1F1F1F; border-bottom: 5px solid #1F1F1F] LOOK INTO MY EYES WHEN YOU FEEL MY HEAT Honestly, even without the whole invading-clan-battle-to-the-death-thing, it had been a rough night. Emberstorm had drifted in and our of conciousness for a long time, almost since sundown - sleep never really came easy for her, nowadays. It had almost become a nightly routine: sleep, wake, sleep, wake, sleep, wake. She'd learn how to deal with it, though. Maybe. At some point. It just so happened that she was in one of those 'wake' times right now: not exactly asleep, not exactly awake. She was just, well, there. Thinking. Dreaming. Scuffles came from the other side of the den and Emberstorm groaned internally. Couldn't the warriors keep it quiet in the middle of the night? Some cats were trying to sleep at moonhi- Shadowclan. She smelled the musky scent of the warriors a fraction of a heartbeat before Graystripe had called it out. She recognized it from the borders that were set too close, giving the rival clan far too much space and her clan far too little. But this was much stronger, so strong it made her gag - they were here, they were in camp, and they were in Riverclan territory, and she wanted their blood. Emberstorm scrambled to her feet as fast as she could, her attention instantly drawn to the tabby tom in the middle of the den - god, he reeked - who was promptly bowled over by Graystripe. He's got it, she thought: Emberstorm knew Graystripe was a fierce warrior even before the tom migrated to Riverclan. she rushed out of the den, weaving through the throng of cats, and immediately pounced on the back of a Shadowclan warrior, unsheathing her claws. Man, she'd almost been waiting for this. words, 284. tags, anyone willing to face a pissed-off she-cat notes, n/a credits, kiwii at btn! IT'S WHERE MY DEMONS HIDE

[willow]

Raincloud

[/u][/b]

They asked for it. If Leopardstar hadn't been so mouse-brained, this wouldn't be happening. If she hadn't been so hard-hearted. Shadowclan needed the extra territory to provide for their kits and warriors. So this action was totally called for...right?

At least that was what Raincloud kept telling herself as she slink silently onto the Riverclan island where the water cats made their home. Her underbelly and paws were slicked and darkened from the crossing over the river. She honestly believed someone meant to shove her in so she'd get wet, but there wasn't any proof of that. Other Shadowclanners didn't appreciate the fact she had a non-traditonal fur coloring for the clan, perhaps believing it was a liability. But tonight was a chance to prove she could be as stealthy as the rest of them, even with a silvery gray pelt.

As the line of shadows crouched at the feeble Riverclan camp walls, Raincloud's paws itched with anticipation, her blood pumping in anticipation of the battle to come. Kneading the ground with her paws, she kept Brokenstar in her sight for the eagerly waited signal while running through every battle move she learned from her mentor, Scarstorm. She reminded herself that the same moves for Windclan or Thunderclan wasn't going to work for the weighty cats of the river. She was already smaller than the rest, but maybe she could use that and speed to her advantage. All she had to do was unbalance a Riverclanner and they would be open for an attack.

Now! she struggled to contain her excitement from coming out in a yowl as Brokenstar pelted ahead after giving the tail-signal. The line of shadows came to life and quietly followed after the tabby pelt of their leader. Raincloud kept low and dainty on her paws as the reeds beat her body gently before opening up to the camp clearing.

She slowed to a stop in the comforting shadow of the reeds behind her, quickly assessing the situation. She recognized Alderthorn and Fogstep going towards the den that reeked of Riverclan warriors, an alarm being raised up. The silvery she-cat flattened her ears to her head, fur prickling with annoyance. She would rather not have an alarm be raised up, but that was inevitable. Warriors began to stream out of the den and latch onto or fall over any Shadowclanner they could find. It was time to fight for Shadowclan's rights!

With a battle cry, Raincloud streaked forward towards the river of warriors struggling to get out of their cozy den. She had a moment to muse about how sleepy and uncoordinated they must be, since they had been attacked in their sleep, before a weight suddenly leeched onto her back.

It wasn't as much as she had expected, but it was enough to make her lose her breath and go down on the ground. Fortunately, she was able to turn over onto her side so the attacker was still over her but now their underbellies were vulnerable. Once she gathered her breath back, Raincloud recognized the small cat as Emberstorm. This would be easier than she thought. Yowling a challenge, the Shadowclan she-cat battered the tortoiseshell's soft underbelly with unsheathed hind paws in hopes of dislodging her.

Patchfur

[/b][/center]

It was an understatement to say that Patchfur was pissed. Before the reek of Shadowclan seeped into his sleep, he had been comfortably curled up in his reed and feather nest dreaming. Dreaming a dream he rarely ever was able to: of Poplarleaf. It wasn't a dream from Starclan but it just felt good to have her brushing pelts with him again, drinking in her intoxicating scent, hear her voice in his ears...he felt complete again.

It wasn't long before the yowls of alarm went up and shattered the dream, drove away Poplar again, and left him alone amongst a den of clan-mates. Scrambling to his paws, he had to blink many times to clear his vision and register what was going on. His lips curled in disgust as the horrid smell that could only belong to...Shadowclan!

Graystripe, the one who gave the first voice of the attack, was now overtaken by a tabby Shadowclan warrior. The two cats were a hissing, spitting ball of fur and claws blocking the majority of the way out of the den. Still, Patchfur was determined to get through and fight, to take out everything he kept inside on these fox-hearted cats.

Slipping through the battling cats(Graystripe was more than capable of handling that dark cat), Patchfur appeared in the camp clearing, surrounded by fighting cats. The large patchwork tom looked around with hard, steely gray eyes, hackles raised and fur bristling, teeth bared in a silent challenge. There was Duskfire busy with the Shadowclan deputy, Emberstorm with an unusually silver Shadowclanner, and...

Brokenstar. Patchfur rumbled a loud growl at the sight of the large tabby tom streaking towards Leopardstar's den. Before he could get even a fox-length of distance toward Brokenstar, he knocked into another cat, not able to tell if it was Shadowclan or Riverclan, and fell over before able to get his balance back. Quickly scrambling to his paws, Patchfur whirled on the moon-lit form with a vicious snarl, claws unsheathed and prepared to do damage.

Featherpaw

[/b][/center]

"SHADOWCLAN! Riverclan, we're under attack!"

The silver tabby apprentice jerked awake at the yowl of her father, a voice she automatically could identify. As soon as she was on her paws, she almost fell back over, seeing as she had literally just woken up and her mind was still in a haze. Struggling to clear her head and stay on her feet, Featherpaw looked around urgently for her mentor. "Mudfur, it's Shadowclan! What do we do?" she whispered, blue eyes wide and fur fluffed out in alarm.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do in this sort of situation! If she was still training as a warrior, she'd be out there fighting with the others. But she was on the path of a medicine cat now...was she supposed to stay and protect the herbs or defend her clan-mates?

The kits! Featherpaw gasped at the thought of a dark cat slinking into the nursery and getting to the little fur-balls. Her eyes suddenly narrowed fiercely, her claws unsheathing. She had to protect them! But still...what were her medicine cat obligations? What was she allowed to do?

"Mudfur! What do I do?!" the she-cat practically cried, feeling desperate and helpless right now as the battle raged on. At this moment of indecision, she looked to her mentor to make the right choice.

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

The opponent whose haunches she'd attacked was the least of her worries now. The moment she was on her paws again, her hazel eyes darted back to where her first opponent had felt her claws, but to her disappointment, they had vanished into a writhing mass of pelts belonging to the Riverclan and Shadowclan cats as they fought claw and tooth. But she didn't get the opportunity to go after the other cat because the cat she'd inadvertently thrown herself at was definitely not an ally. And this was no ordinary enemy - the cat she'd crashed into was Brokenstar's deputy. While Duskfire would have liked to claw the ugly smirk off of Brokenstar's face, his wretched deputy would be a good substitute. Duskfire whirled to face the other she-cat, and not a second too late.

The deputy was on the offensive, and Duskfire was the oputlet she'd chosen for her wrath. Duskfire didn't mind - she'd have taken on any Shadowclanner that wanted to face them. She could outwit any of those Shadowclan brutes, and use her speed, agility and strong hind legs to defeat them. Sure, most of the Shadowclanners could probably put her out of commission just by sitting on the small she-cat, but she considered herself to be a great deal faster and cleverer than any Shadowclanner that could come her way.

Fogstep's claws raked the tortoiseshell she-cat's shoulder as she whirled to face her new opponent, and most unfortunately for Duskfire, it was the shoulder she'd landed on. As if it didn't already ache enough. Deputy or no, Fogstep would pay for that - Duskfire would make sure of it. Due to her small stature, Duskfire's fighting style was a bit different than those of her clanmates; she had to rely on agility and speed because she didn't have the physical size or brute strength as her clanmates - although that's not to suggest that her hind legs weren't toned and strong from swimming, and with her claws out, she could do a lot of damage with them.

She just had to get in the right place, so she feigned right, then lunged at Fogstep from the left side. It was an old trick, but while she was still waking up, it was going to have to do. Even though her mind might not have been fully awoken, Duskfire's temper sure was, and the she-cat was out for blood. This time, she wouldn't be drawing metaphorical blood with her tongue.

[Moli]

The breath in his lungs was forced out by a strong kick. All four of his paws thudded into the ground. He struggled to breath, but forced his head up, ready to defend himself. Claws lunged to dig into his shoulder as the cat before him turned over. Graystripe faintly recognized him as Alderthorn, but that detail wasn't important to him so much as clawing at him. Getting his breath back, he sidestepped and hurled himself into Alderthorn, front paws extended out. He was a big cat. He had to use his bulk for something.

Around him, he was aware of other cats fighting and yowling. He knew, from the whispers about the Gathering, that Brokenstar had almost stated that this fight would happen. Leopardstar would not back down. She was not the type for that. Graystripe could respect that, but now ShadowClan was in their camp!

Had he been more aware, he might have realized that this was the first time he had referred to the camp as "their" camp, as though he was included now. As it was, he made to grab Alderthorn by the shoulders, and if he could get his weight right, he could push him over.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the medicine cat den. Featherpaw. He thought. Stay safe! As much as he wanted her to be a warrior still, the thought of her being injured terrified and enraged him.