The sun was rising across the way from him. Boreen stood strong behind his chief. He stood with his brothers and sisters of arms. The tribe was ready. The chief roared back to the tribe.
"My children! It is time to defend our land, our kin, and our homes! Let no man pass to our Cubs! For the tribe, let Zext be with you and attack!" Boreen felt a rush of adrenaline and charged with his tribe. The skirmish had begun. Two groups of roughly fifteen warriors each clashed with each other. The crashing of shield on shield and claws on spears rang out, echoing for miles around them.
Boreen, a young male just barely old enough not to be called a kitten, slashed his claws out wildly. It was his first battle of what he hoped to be many more. He was part of a warrior clan. Some of his people were different but he was raised a Torikk and was proud. Boreen felt his claws slash through a moonik, a shield made of a few pieces of wood with a leather piece stretched over it and marked with the wielder's worst fear. Boreen's claws made the image unrecognizable. Pride swelled in his chest. He had spent days sharpening his claws. It was a rule of his clan that only proven warriors could wield a spear. It was Boreen's one hope to earn his spear in this fight. Just then as his thoughts wandered away from the battlefield, reality slashed through his flesh. Looking down he saw blood drip from his leg as a spear pulled away, having barely missed its target. His eyes followed the spear as it moved back into its loaded position, then exploded back at his leg for a second time. Boreen slid his leg to the side forcing the spearhead to miss his leg again. The shaft of the spear still hit his leg, he felt the splinters wedge under his skin. It was somehow a relief. Lashing out before the spear could return to its user again, Boreen felt his claws rip through the throat of his newfound enemy. Pride welled up in him again. He didn't know if it was luck or talent, but either way, he welcomed it.
On the other side of the battlefield the tribes chief engaged with a handful of opposing warriors all at once. His spear, unique in the fact that it was the chief's spear that had been passed down from the first chief and could only be held by the chief of the tribe, flew through the air precisely slashing through every member around him. There was no question if he was lucky or talented, this was not his first skirmish. He had brought the tribe to power over his many years as chief, Twenty to be exact. Now, older but not unfit, he felt the age for the first time catching up to him. Dispatching of the five warriors he engaged, the chief looked around the battlefield for one specific being. His gaze fell upon the enemy chief. Without hesitation, the chief charged the larger enemy he knew had to fall. Lowering his shoulder he slammed all of his body weight behind him as he jumped into his target. The two fell over, rolling about for a moment then jumping back to their feet.
"You should have killed me before I knew where you were Rawn!" The larger cat yelled.
"Where is the honor in that, Lank!" the chief yelled at his enemy. Rawn lifted his spear to armpit before lunging forward, jabbing it out with an unquestionable aim. It hit its mark flush as the larger cat Lank let out a roar in anguish followed by his claws the chief's face.
Boreen felt the blood of he and his enemies matting up his fur but didn't care. It looked to him as if the battle was not going as well as the tribe had initially thought it would. Despite the even armies at the start, his tribe's members had dwindled. From his count, it was now four, including himself, to eight. He saw one of his sisters in arms collapse lowering the count to three. Thinking quickly he picked up the closest spear to him and threw it with all his might. To his surprise the spearhead landed in the collar of his target, pinning the cat to the ground. Grabbing another he threw it again at the enemy standing next to the first he hit. Before it was close to hitting anything Boreen took off with all the speed he could muster. The spear missed its target this time, instead, landing in the pinned cat, killing it. To Boreen's delight, the intended target spun around looking for the person that had thrown the spear. By the time it had seen him it was too late. Boreen pounced on his target, ripping his throat out with his teeth. He tasted the metallic flavor flooded his mouth. He grinned knowing he had evened the odds more. He looked back up to take a count. The results were not what he wanted to see. All but the chief were dead. He stood surrounded by four cats from the other tribe. Grabbing the first spear he threw from the corpse of its original target it had hit. Looking towards his chief he shouted out as he flung the spear.
"Chief Rawn!"
Rawn's gaze never faltered. His only target was Lank. The voice of a younger cat sounded from behind him. "He couldn't make it out but instinctively moved to the side. A spear lodged itself in the chest of his target's bodyguard. The odds had turned slightly in his favor. Not even a second had passed as he pounced forward at his enemy. The two chief's rolled down the muddy hillside just as the young cat arrived as backup.
Boreen was in a full sprint as he collided with two of the four remaining enemy tribe members. Scrambling to his feet he dug his claws quickly into the cat underneath him. He felt the air being pushed out from under his weight. Looking towards the cat next to him he slashed out with his claws. His luck had run out. He missed it completely. As punishment, he was knocked to the ground. He struggled to regain his stance as the remaining three cats kicked and clawed at him. Through sheer will he kept his vitals covered up, but felt his blood rushing from his body as each new rip in his skin was created by the three. With all the force he could muster he kicked out with his right leg. To his surprise, he felt his foot's claws slash through one of the three. The pride he felt only lasted for a split second as his leg was slashed yet again by one of the others. Finally, he felt the fear he was told he would by the elders. While some would crumble in a moment like this Boreen harnessed the fear. Again he kicked out this time with his left leg. He felt the bad of his paw land on something, but instead of stopping as he wanted he pushed through. The resulting roar of pain told him he had made the right choice. Quickly Boreen scrambled to his feet again, seeing as he did one of the three cats' legs snapped by the ankle. The other two didn't look at their fallen comrade, instead opting to lunge at Boreen. Falling backward he felt his paws come in contact with one of the two. He sunk his claws into the neck of the cat and with his legs kicked the body over him. The force of the rotation snapped the cat's neck in an instant. Without letting his momentum falter, Boreen rolled through the movement then, finding his footing quickly, pounced forward at the other cat. The two cats' heads collided with a loud crack. His vision blacked out for a moment as he felt his skull fracture. As his vision came back he found his target in a similar state of affairs, only it was knocked unconscious. Pushing himself off the muddy ground Boreen moved forward towards the fallen cat, and using the claws on his feet slashed through his throat. Looking towards the struggling third member of the fight, Boreen picked up a nearby spear and pushed it into the cat's heart, watching as it went limp.
Loud sounds of combat rang from the top of the hill as Rawn fought his long time rival. The two never had the chance to get to their feet. Rolling about and clawing at each other Rawn took a chance, kicking at Lank's stomach. He felt his claws rip into his target's gut. The feeling of success left his body in an instant. The kick had left him open enough to be countered. Looking down Rawn saw a broken spear hanging out of his gut. Lank had the broken shaft in his hand and smiled at Rawn as he pushed it up towards his rival's lung.
"I win this time Rawn." Pride dripped from behind his lips with the blood he spat up dripping onto Rawn's face. Things started going black, starting from a distance until all Rawn could see was the face of his killer looking into his eyes laughing. Thoughts of anger boiled in Rawn's core, but his body did not respond. Or could it. To Rawn's Lank's smile faded from his face and he spat up more blood. His neck went limp and a new face appeared in its place. He only barely recognized it to be Boreen, the newest member of his ranks.
"Chief! We have to get you to the village." Boreen tossed the dead rival chief's fresh corpse to the side A broken spear shaft hung out of his body. The other side of the spear was in his chief's chest. "I'm sure the shamen can help you, sir. They must. We need you."
"No Boreen, stop it's over. Here, take this." Chief Rawn lifted his arm up to Boreen presenting the chief's very own spear. Boreen grasped it with both hands. Tears fell from his eyes as his clawed, bloody fingers wrapped around its shaft. Just as he fully grasped it Rawn's arm fell limp. Boreen stood tall and looked around him. He was the only cat left standing. Holding the chief's spear in his hand, he headed back to his village to present the "victory".
