[Strelles] Strike the Match

Chapter 7: The Fennyield Exiles (Edited)

Cardinalpaw sprung forth, pouncing on the frightened squirrel that made the mistake of revealing itself in an attempt to escape him; killing it swiftly and placing it on the pile he'd begun.

In the two full moons since Mottledstrike's death and the follow vigil for their fallen lieutenant, the Stormborn struggled through the thick haze of gift weighing down on their shoulders to move forward. Cardinalpaw felt a bit bad that he wasn't as affected - his experience with Mottledstrike amounted to about a moon of contact with him as Wrenpaw's mentor. He hadn't been brought to the last two Peace-Gathers but the tension in the air between the Shorerisen and the Stormborn was so taught that the other factions were cautiously staying away. Chaffinchpaw had been gotten banned from the upcoming Games, when she got into a claws unsheathed and teeth bared fight with Rushpaw of the Shorerisen.

The Styrman had made an active attempt at repairing the relationship between the two factions. He had asked Asterdawn to a meeting at The Kirkyard directly after the Games that Chaffinchpaw got banned from with Larkwing and they'd worked out a semi-acceptable deal. The Styrman had claimed that the Shorerisen would be leaving the Suncairn untouched for the rest of the cycle and into the rain-season. He promised that the instigators would be punished for their actions given that they'd gotten two deputies killed in a foolish attempt to claim additional territory without consulting their diplomat or their own leader.

There were mixed feelings about the decree - Asterdawn and the elders all seemed pleased by the deal. They'd certainly not smelled pelt nor fur of any Shore legionaries on their side of the river since and the dawn patrol reported that none of Shore's patrols so much as heckled them. The younger legionaries - Longtail and Cedarfur were particularly outspoken - didn't believe the offering to be nearly enough. They believed that The Styrman should allow them to be publicly punished, should be dragged to the Stormborn's jurisdiction - potentially even changing their names in response to their crimes.

"They got their own lieutenant killed!" Cedarfur had been caught snarling. "Theirs and ours... I hope The Styrman is at least open about what their punishment will be."

Cardinalpaw was mostly concerned with his denmates.

Chaffinchpaw swung violently through training herself to the ground, studying every minute detail of hunting and memorizing the code as well as she and laying in her nest emotionlessly, staring with unseeing eyes towards the walls of their den and refused to move. Sometimes she refused to eat, refused to drink and had to be fed herbs by Spottedleaf to keep her from losing strength. Callastorm only held half-days of training as of late, giving her the rest of the day to mourn the loss of her father.

Ravenpaw wasn't much better.

Their friend had always been skittish and jumpy towards the world but after witnessing Mottledstrike's demise, the black furred tom saw enemies everywhere. At the first sound of something behind him, he would be off like a hare and it was near impossible to catch up with him. He always stood in a half-ready crouch, the fur on his spine bristled. It had gotten to the point where Spottedleaf now had him on a daily herb combination to handle the overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety that he felt. Wrenpaw tried to help but he was barely holding himself together well enough to assist his brother and Jackdawpaw was always at a loss for words.

They were trying, but the loss was... hard.

Asterdawn took an ember from Chaffinchpaw's flame.

With the Cult of Havoc causing trouble nearby followed by the death of her trusted lieutenant, the Stormborn leader had upped the intensity of the training for all cadets and ordered all active-duty legionaries to brush up on their defensive skills. It had been a struggle to keep up with her before but now, Cardinalpaw was wondering if she thought he was made of pure energy. She'd built a schedule around his training - every other morning was a dawn-patrol followed by sparring practice and stamina building. The other days were early morning hunting patrols and tracking lessons that were followed up with lectures on faction-culture and the Legionary's Code; She trained him into the mud - literally in some cases like today where she'd flung him halfway across the clearing while demonstrating how to redirect someone's pounce.