Disclaimer: Warriors isn't mine.

The reaction you've all been waiting for!


Chapter 49

Buzzard looked up when Snow appeared at the entrance to his den. Dawn's fur darkened from the shadow, Buzzard paused his grooming of his mate.

The white she-cat was expressionless; Buzzard wondered how Robin and her sister had taken his actions before. He needed to win, no matter what, but he didn't need Robin mad at him.

"CreekClan wants to talk." Snow told him, "the she-cats were out hunting, and we encountered a patrol. They'll meet us at the border at sun-high."

Buzzard sat up, "rather confident of them to announce when we'll meet." He shrugged; let them act tough, he'd dealt them a rough blow. He would have his victory today.

He walked passed Snow, heading into the camp. He signaled to Storm, Fox, and he regretful signaled to Jay. The coward glanced at him with a measured look before approaching. He nodded to Marsh, Cypress nudged his brother, who looked over and got to his paws. The Leader of The Swamplands flicked his tail as he made his way over, Heron appearing at her father's side.

Buzzard nodded to them, his muzzle curling up. "CreekClan wishes to speak to us at sun-high, at the border for a meeting."

Marsh glanced at the sky, and then looked back at Buzzard. "We should go now then, sun-high's approaching."

Buzzard gave him a long look, "I'm in no hurry." Asides from to show you my victory, but I'll act calm until then.

Fox glanced away; Buzzard hadn't expected a response from him.

Storm curled his lips to show his teeth, "let's go. The sooner these kits are gone the better."

Buzzard gave him a dark glance, "control your temper. We're going."

Buzzard led the way out of camp, walking through his forest with ease, his head held high. Soon he would be on CreekClan's territory, a much nicer land, and be able to recruit in great numbers. He eyed Marsh; the tom flattened his ear occasionally but otherwise looked at ease. No, he didn't expect that Buzzard would take this land back someday. Buzzard listened to the singing birds and almost wished he could join in.

"Here we are." He announced finally, as he shoved through the undergrowth to where the border lay. He waited for his patrol before looking over.

Falconheart sat at the border, his tail lashing slightly. Buzzard glanced at Marsh to see if the Leader of The Swamplands had connected the silver tabby to Owl. It appeared he had, and Marsh halted, eyes narrowed as he studied Owl's father.

Behind Falconheart were several cats, the muscular black and white one, a brown tom, Shadowthorn, a brown she-cat and a white flecked gray female.

"I'm Falconheart of CreekClan for those of you who don't know." He nodded to Marsh and Heron, Buzzard's eyes narrowed as the other tom nodded back, his heir did as well. Respect wasn't what he expected. He wanted them to beg, plead for the kits.

"What do you want for our kits?" the new leader asked, eyes scanning the patrol, calm, no hint of desperation, though his eyes flickered.

Shadowthorn walked forward, a long cobweb extended over his shoulder.

"Falconheart." He meowed, before Buzzard could answer. "I told you I recognized the cats in the attack?"

"You said they weren't Pride cats." Falconheart nodded once, glancing over.

Shadowthorn shook his head. "They're not. I knew that scent too, they're The Cats of The Swamplands."

Falconheart turned his head to look at the tom. "You're sure, Shadowthorn?"

"The brown tom is Marsh, their leader, and that's his daughter Heron." Shadowthorn confirmed, his green eyes looked a little hurt. "I didn't think they'd form an alliance with The Pride."

Falconheart turned his attention to Marsh. "I'm afraid I don't know where these swamplands are."

"Upstream a ways, and until yesterday, I didn't know where CreekClan was." Marsh confessed, sounding conversational. "But I believe Buzzard has an answer to your question, territory can be discussed later, hopefully."

Falconheart nodded, "I didn't forget." He replied, "Well, Buzzard?"

"Total surrender. You leave your territory, and never return." Buzzard stated flatly.

The outraged cries from behind Falconheart gave him his answer before the silver tabby could say anything.

"Not a chance!" Falconheart growled, tail lashing once.

"Not even for your kits?" Buzzard asked smoothly, noticing the black and white tom and the gray she-cat were restraining the brown tom.

"I'll claw his muzzle off!" the tom thrashed, even as the huge tom placed his paws on his shoulders.

"Kestrelclaw!" Falconheart snapped, "Believe me, you'll have to wait your turn to do that, but calm down!"

"Personally, I say we just let Blackstone hit him." The gray she-cat muttered. "He'd probably knock him unconscious."

Shadowthorn growled softly. "What are you doing here Marsh? You struck me as a more honorable cat."

Marsh let out a sigh. "I was thinking that myself." He glanced at Buzzard. "I can guarantee none of your kits have been harmed, my cats are seeing to that in my absence."

Buzzard curled a lip; he did not like the conversation between Marsh and the Clan. It had gotten too friendly and decided to end it quickly. "I'll give you some time to think about it." He unsheathed his claws. "But Falconheart, I'd hate for the leader of the Clan to have the loss of the Clan's kits on his record. Hardly a good leader, wouldn't you think?" Come now, surrender and let me win. It's easy…

"I wouldn't know." Falconheart smirked, blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and Buzzard suddenly wondered if this was a trap. Surely CreekClan wouldn't try anything now when the Pride had their kits. Buzzard's eyes snapped around before Falconheart finished.

"Pantherstar, what's your opinion?"

Buzzard laughed, feeling relief spread through him, shaking his head in disbelief that he'd fallen for that. "He's dead, Falconheart."

"Was." Buzzard choked on his laughter, staring in shock, as Pantherstar, the tom whose throat he knew he'd clawed out -he'd seen that cat die- stepped up from behind Falconheart. "I prefer living you know."

Buzzard's jaw moved silently, he could see the cobwebs on the tom's throat, he'd hit, how had the tom lived?

"We will consider your offer." Pantherstar sneered at him. "You may not like our answer. Marsh, I wish we could've met on different terms, and unfortunately I can't say it's a pleasure to meet you or you, Heron."

"Fortunately we won't hold that against you." Heron replied smoothly, and for a moment it looked like Pantherstar's whiskers twitched.

Pantherstar beckoned with his tail, and the patrol disappeared with him into their territory, leaving the Pride cats, Marsh and Heron alone on the border.

Buzzard stared after the leader, he'd killed him!

"Are you sure he was dead?" Storm asked softly, snapping Buzzard out of his stupor.

"I ripped his throat out, Storm! It wasn't as deep of a wound as I'd intended but I killed him!"

"He looks rather lively for a corpse." Marsh observed, Buzzard snarled, swallowing back several unflattering terms.


I must seriously love you all to update this quickly. Don't get spoiled, daily updates are not going to be a regular thing!