Gingerpaw took her paw off of his throat. "You know this isn't a killing battle!" She spat into his face. She let go of him, knowing she defeated him, but he pounced on her from behind. He pinned her to the ground, but she managed to flip herself over, and clawed at his belly with her hind legs. He hissed in her face, and she threw him off. She stood to face him, he raked his claws across her muzzle and she cried out, then she lunged for him. Knocking the wind out of them. The two thrashed and fought, but Gingerpaw came out on top again with Tigerpaw pinned under her and her jaw around his neck. She bit down only hard enough to draw blood, and then let go, as she got up, she scored his flesh with her claws, making blood spill out. "I win," she panted. "You lose."
Cliffheart hissed at Whitewhisker (if that's who's talking to Nightfang...) and slashed at him. "Get away from her!" he growled. Turning back to Nightfang he laid down at her side. "Are you okay?" he asked. He was still exhausted from his own battle, but the fear from before of actually becoming like the TigerClan cats had dissipated. Hopefully the fighting thing would blow over, but right now, all that mattered was that Nightfang was okay. Cliffheart began to clean her wounds. Paula scared him. She was weird. "You did fine, you just lost confidence for a while, that's all," he promised.
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I am Jaggedpine. Just thought I should let you know.
Watching as the other cats sparred, Bearfur licked his lips nervously. He was going to have to fight his clanmate. Frowning, he turned towards Wolfheart, she looked just as nervous as he was. But clearing his face of emotion, he grinned wickedly. "Please, let us get this over with. As much as I've enjoyed all our time together, your time persuing the role os a Sentinel is over." Stepping forwards, he looked towards Shadestreak. "Will you be officiating this, Shadestreak?" As the jet-black tom nodded, he smiled. "So. Let the games begin," he snarled, the same sadistic grin plastered on his face. Creeping forwards, he circled the LionClan cat as the on-lookers watched Wolfheart with pity.
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07.08.13
okay, then. unfortunately loving an idiot who doesn't love me back. but i'm not falling. i just kind of... am. .
OOC: I am soooo sorry I haven't been roleplaying. One part is because fo school, the other is that I can't really post the correct thing I want to do. DX
OOC: In order to make things go consistently I'm just going to have us skip two days in order to keep this thing going. If not I will just close it. I'm also going to pretend that each of us has progressed through the battles to the point that each of our different standings has been chosen. At this point, I kinda don't care if you don't like your position. It might make the story flow better. Bearfur- Sentinel Ketreleye- Footman Thunderstep - Guardian Wolfheart - Footman Petaldancer - Sentinel Cliffheart - Sentinel Fawntail - Footman Gingerpaw - Footman-in-training Icepaw - Guardian-in-training Nightfang - Servant Darkwhisker - Medicine cat
IC:
Nightfang sat shivering to herself. She and four other cats had been chosen to be servants. They had horribly lost their battles as she had and were deemed to be without honor. Nothing seemed to be real to her. All her friends had at least become Footman and weren't degraded to her level. It was nice to know that Cliffheart and Bearfur, her personal protectors, were still looking out for her. However they were buty bound because both were Sentinels now. They were directly serving Darkstar. Only those two and three others had been chosen to be the elites. Shadestreak, Sharpfang and Petaldancer were the others. She was glad for them and their ability to get closer to the twisted leader. Yet she was distraught. There was no telling what the others were going to make her do just to stave off boredom. The she-cat turned her amber eyes toward Beeflight and Fluffy, the other she-cats that had managed to become servants. The last two were Kirby and Sablepaw, her young second cousin. The poor young tom had not been given a chance to learn the ways of the warrior and Darkstar had deemed it unnecessary to teach such a timid young cat. So now she was stuck protecting him when she could barely protect herself. She hated what she had become. had she stayed in Lionclan perhaps she could hold her head high. Now she was here, a shell of what she once was. A yowl sounded from somewhere in camp, it was the call for a servant. Each of them looked to one another with fear, what would they be made to do? The yowl came again and it was distinctly Whitewhisker's. He had not become what he had wanted but he was better off then she was. Her tormenter had managed to secure a spot as a Guardian but he was certainly unhappy about it. Yet he did manage to relieve his frustrations out by being able to watch Nightfang squirm and fume at her inability to refuse his commands. As she left the den to answer him she saw the small group of Sentinels. They sat side by side in a straight line in front of Darkstar. Their leader was speaking in hushed tones to them as to make sure that they gained the special privilege to hear his words. She turned from them though and continued her long walk to Whitewhisker. The horrible tom lounged beside the other guardians, a grin plastered on his face. As she approached her murmured, "Yes?" Whitewhisker didn't acknowledge her, instead he averted his gaze, a loft expression in his eyes. Nightfang lashed her tail for a moment before managed to dredge up, "Forgive me. I meant, how may I help you... Sir..." She hated that she had to refer to this pile of filth as her superior. After a moment Whitewhisker rolled his head toward her and looked her form up and down, "Well, you can just sit there. I like looking at you." Nightfang bristled, "Are you serious?!" Whitewhisker mockingly pouted at her, "Never more so." Nightfang reluctantly sat before him, the light shining off of her dark swirled pelt. That same twisted grin appeared on Whitewhisker's face. "Very nice. That'll do. Just sit there for me for a while longer." Nightfang felt a horrible hatred for this tom rise in her belly, though she knew it would only feed his lust for her discomfort.