Nightstar's Crown

Chapter 8

|| Chapter 8 ||
☫

The group was  quiet at first. Then, a pale ginger tabby stood up, her kinked tail lifting, "Ugh, you green warriors are always so shy. I'll do it," Shrimptail announced as she stepped ahead and rolled light-colored, grey-blue eyes.

"Are you sure—?"

"Just because I'm about to retire doesn't make me worthless," the cat huffed in annoyance, taking her stance across from Nightrose. The russet hues of her undercoat were becoming more apparent in the sun, and the tabby stripes seemed to ripple as her flank twitched. Oh great. So if she breaks her hip from just tripping, they'll still blame me, she thought half-jokingly. The older she-cat still looked to be in good shape, but it still made her a bit nervous inside.

Beaverstar grimaced but nodded curtly. "Alright. Whenever you're ready, then." After lapsing into the quiet, the two readied themselves. It seemed like each were eyeing up the other to see if the other would go first. Eventually, however, Nightrose conceded by making the first move. The two carried along in their battle demo for some time until Nightrose got the slip on the light colored tabby. As Shrimptail hit the ground with a grunt, Nightrose stood about three tail-lengths away, crouching as if to prepare for her retaliation. But Beaverstar would call for its end as Shrimptail stood again and panting lightly.

"Why were you holding back?" The older cat huffed, scowling at the other. The corner of her nose twitched, as if she were about to snarl. "It's no claws, not soft-paws."

Before she could respond, Beaverstar spoke up. "Enough, who's next?" This carried on with Nightrose facing another warrior and another. Each time, it was clear she would generally end with some form of a winning strike. Eventually, this seemed to get on the clan leader's nerves. The next thing he'd decided to do, after facing her sixth opponent, was snap in exasperation. "How about we up the ante? Let's see you face off against two warriors," he all but snarled.

Redmoon looked over at the brown tom in muted alarm. Nightrose simply arched an unimpressed brow. "...okay," she shrugged carelessly.

With an annoyed twitch of his nose, Beaverstar turned to the others. But as he opened his mouth to question who would go, a new voice spoke out. "We'll go." The mirrored white and brown tabby toms stepped forwards to take their place across from the dark warrior. Eaglestrike eyed her with a soured expression, his tail lashing as his brother paced out from behind him so they'd be facing her. Oh great. These tangled tails– I was wondering when they'd step up, Nightrose thought with a flick of an ear. The she-cat couldn't help but think sarcastically to herself, I'm sure their brotherly bond won't come into play here at all.

Beaverstar's eyes lit up with delight. "Ah, perfect. Whenever you're ready, then."

Nightrose quickly took to a ready stance and fixated on the two with her pupils narrowed. But she felt something in her toes. Gritting her teeth, she forced her claws to sheathe after they'd begun to poke out instinctually. But before she knew it, the two had flown at her, the first pair to choose to go on the offensive. Her legs were scooped out from under her, making her land on her side. The two had whirled around to pounce on her, but their paws met the earth as she had quickly rolled and gotten her legs back beneath her. As Eaglestrike would snarl and leap at her, she chose to spring right into him, wrapping her forelegs around the barrel of his chest. As they were in the air, she opened her mouth to bite into the space where his shoulder met his leg, only applying enough pressure for it to hurt — not draw blood. As they hit the ground, her weight slamming into his chest, the mostly-white furred warrior had the wind knocked out of him.