/ TW: Allusions of blood; pain; injuries; violence \ Running directly into danger was never quite Cocoonwing's style. As a kit, he had been shy but eager, ready to face the world, dreaming of helping the Clan and being the hero. By the time they were a warrior, they kept their head down, did what they were told, served the Clan with a quiet steadfastness. Never making a ripple. Never making a change. What had changed in that time? How had Cocoonwing been changed so thoroughly? When a butterfly went through its metamorphosis, wasn't it supposed to come out more beautiful and strong? Instead, Coco felt as if he had regressed to something lesser. Less worthy, less capable. Useless. But it didn't have to be that way. They were a warrior, a FalconClan warrior, and they could still do good. As long as they were productive and helping the Clan, their life had meaning. It had started with extra hunting trips, additional patrols without being asked. The restful night became short, the lounging afternoons sparse. Then the fireweed competition had called on Coco's competitiveness, a nature he didn't even know he had; and a patriotism to FalconClan. That was over, but now what else could the tall warrior do? He was growing older, slowly but steadily; he had no family remaining that they knew of; they feared they had failed both of their apprentices. So what was there left to make the meaning in a life? What could make their existence worthwhile? Soulfaith had once said that a cat didn't find his place, he had to make it. So Cocoonwing would do that; he'd make a place, make a meaning. As long as he served the Clan, he had meaning. So maybe that could help explain why he was currently charging at an enraged wolf. Cocoon had first become aware of the creature a few days ago. Its foul odor crossed the trails of FalconClan territory, weaving through the forests and foothills. It wasn't safe to be in their territory; what if it caught someone unawares and hurt them? No, that couldn't be allowed to happen. So Cocoonwing had taken it upon themself to track down and get rid of the monster. Cocoon's first impression of the wolf was... underwhelming. He towered over it by a good head, and it looked rather mangy and pathetic as it snuffled and pawed at the ground. It was easy to bolster his bravery and convince himself- this would be easy. So they reared their head and charged. Only the wolf snapped its head up at the approach, and turned with a menacing growl. And suddenly it is baring long fangs, and it may be short but the powerful muscles under its mangy fur become visible, and now it is furious and dangerous and wild. Coco slams into the creature, nearly knocking them both over, but the wolf shoves back. Ivory jaws snap on the stirred air; only Cocoon's instincts from training save him from an early failure. The feline dances out of reach, sizing up the opponent and regretting their life choices. What was meant to be a noble battle, a service to the Clan, now seems more dire- no longer a vague altruistic attempt to protect the innocent, but a fight for his very survival. The wolf lunges; Coco dodges. The creature's movements are feverish and untrained, but its sheer strength compensates. Its muscles ripple with raw power, its jaw strong enough to shatter bone in an instance. This isn't like fighting a cat; a bite wouldn't just hurt, it would be devastating. Cocoonwing stares down the opponent, dancing and dodging, doing anything to keep out of reach. The wolf mimics until the two large predators are circling, one with calculated patience and the other with calculated fear. Cocoon stares into the monster's amber eyes, and they only see death. He needs to get away. Now. Cocoon takes off running. He can hear the wolf hot in pursuit behind him. Their eyes scan ahead, quickly placing themselves onto a mental map of the territory. Suddenly he knows exactly where he is. He plots a plan ahead, ducking and diving and weaving through the forest, praying to StarClan that he doesn't trip. He just needs to get it out of the territory, and then into open space so he can fly- A break in the trees. Coco fixes his eyes on the light ahead. If they had breath, they would cry out in joy. He starts to spread his wings as the dense foliage turns to long grass, and the trees overhead peter out to reveal open skies. The Falconcat stretches their wings out, picking up speed, accelerating- Something snags their paw. With a cry, Cocoonwing goes down, tumbling over himself in the field, wings and feathers splaying. The sky is down, then up; the grass everywhere, entangling; their paw stings slightly from where what must have been a root pulled tight against it. "Ah!" he hisses, pulling himself up and pressing the paw to the ground tentatively. It hurts, but it can support weight, so- A sharp pain tears through his wing. He screeches. Starbursts of pain, striking, wrongness, permeate all along the length of the wind. [[ Cont in N&C ]]
[[ Read above first! ]] They turn their head, and there's the wolf, eyes ablaze, head shaking, teeth clamped tight, bone-shattering tight, straight through the soft feathers. Cocoonwing slams their right paw up to the wolf, claws unsheathed, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of them raking through the wolf's face. It yips in pain, pulling away, and Coco shrieks again as sharp teeth tear across his wing. Breathing heavily, they push the canine away, pulling back. Their right forepaw is wet, their breathing rapid. But worst of all is their wing. The left pinion drags on the ground, feathers torn and a mess of- something Coco doesn't want to look at- And oh StarClan, it hurts, it hurts like fire, racing up their body with every slight movement. They gasp for air, lightheaded from the pain, claws sinking into the earth as he struggles to hold onto something real. The wolf growls again, and realization dawns like the blazing sun breaking through a fog. No aerial combat. No swooping out of reach. No escape. Gritting his teeth, Cocoon faces his opponent. He can still feel his wing, and it feels awful, every bump over the ground sending a new wave of fire straight to his heart. But they have to stand their ground. They have to face the wolf. They have to survive. Cocoon moves at the same moment as his opponent. The wolf's face is covered in red, claw marks faintly visible beneath the matted fur, one eye squinted shut. It snarls, fangs flashing. No, no, Coco won't let those touch him again. He arcs a paw around to strike the wolf's shoulder, hissing in pain as the motion unsettles his injury. The wolf yelps, twisting to face him and lunging again. Teeth sink into his right foreleg, and he yelps in return. More fire blossoms, spreading from his shoulder to his neck and his core. He yanks away, repeatedly swatting the wolf with his left claws, trying to think of anything other than the startling pain. The teeth in their leg are steadfast, tearing, cruel, merciless. Coco improvises. He lunges forward, snapping open his own jaw and biting the wolf's shoulder. The mass of fur thrashes beneath their bite, but they refuse to let go, trying to dig as deep as they can with their fangs. It may not be as sharp as a wolf's, and the teeth in his own paw make him want to let go, but he fights it, holding on, holding on, just let go please- The wolf releases. Cocoonwing staggers back, letting out a loud yowl. Wing, leg- hurts so much- They try to fight down the pain, breathing hard, every breath a jagged grasp. Startled pink eyes meet the amber slit glaring out from the messy gray-brown fur. The wolf growls, its own gait crooked, its face matted and slick. "Just go away," Cocoonwing yells, sobs, begs; he just wants this to be over, please stop. It isn't meant to be this way. He... this wasn't supposed to happen. /Cocoonwing, you foolish, foolish cat. Who are you to think you can take on a wolf?/ The canine circles, then lunges. Coco dives to the side to dodge, but the wolf feints to the side, meeting his trajectory. Their bodies collide, and the wolf's girth wins over the Falconcat's slim elongated form, knocking them back. /To think you're the hero?/ He's pinned now, his wing splayed at a painful angle, forepaw screaming in agony. The long narrow muzzle hovers over his face, jaws slavering, visible eye blazing. At the last moment, Coco's training kicks in, and they tuck their head to their chin, protecting their throat. It isn't enough, though. /You can't do anything./ The wolf's fangs snap. Teeth meet face. Cocoonwing screams, thrashing, clawing at the wolf. He tries to tilt his head, but the monster above is merciless. It finds its target, tearing into flesh, mauling their face. Starbursts explode, fire erupts. /You're nothing./ It never ends, StarClan it never ends. Everything hurts, most immediately their face, /their face is burning off/. No, no, stop. /Stop trying to change that, and just. Give. Up./ The wolf is cruel. This isn't the treatment of prey, necessarily. It's more like a competitor. It wants him dead. Then get to the point! Stop this fire, please StarClan stop this... anything would be better, please make it stop... "No," Cocoon rasps. It can't be like this. They won't let it be like this! With all of their might, they pummel their hind legs up into the wolf's belly. With a yip, it snaps up, struggling to hang on. Cocoon kicks again, slashing with their left forepaw, feeling it meet solid fur. The wolf staggers back, and now is the time, to stagger up, continue on- but they can't. His wing hurts, his paw hurts, and he can't see, his eyes feel wet, his face feels wet, and all he can smell and taste is iron and fear. They hear a growl; the wolf preparing to pounce. /No./ No, it can't touch him again. He can't let it happen this way. /Please StarClan, give me strength./ [[ Continue to this link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1322823674/ ]]
