The moon was dark in moonhigh, not lighting up the forest that surrounded the territory of ClawClan. Silence is everywhere in the forest. Quarter-moon ago, Fangclaw unexpectedly made a new patrol that checks the clan's borders at night. Was it a bad idea? Well take the fact that the warriors in the patrol are becoming cold tired, then partly yes; but that was Fangclaw's thought, a bad idea, yet he did it for a good cause: he can feel a threat from MeadowClan and he knows that they will plan a surprise, huge and ominous for Fangclaw... no! For ClawClan! But right now, he calmed himself. Right now he is in a midnight border patrol with Brightdawn and Bluepetal, along with the golden tabby's apprentice. He suggested going with them due to his insomnia ability, and put Troutclaw in charge. The old tom only wants peace and quiet as a leader in order to sleep, plus the camp was nosy! He stayed behind the rest of the patrol. The old leader closed his eyes; his eyes were heavy as a boulder, but he tried to keep him open. It seems it was too quiet for him, for that he fell down with a thump. Now the leader rested on the soft dew-y grass until he was prodded by Brightdawn. She was glaring at the tired ginger tom, but no fire in that one eye of hers. "Wake up, sleepy head, we're done with marking the borders time to head camp," the white molly's maw didn't moved. It was another voice that belongs to Bluepetal. Reluctantly, he pushed himself up, his limbs shrieking in protest. Finally up, he watched his blurry patrol-mates with his blood shot eyes. He wasn't ready to wake up yet, nor ready to go back to camp. "'Ight, let's go," he dully commanded the patrol, leading them to the camp, but instead a growl made them halt. The scarred feline knew who's growl this was. Not you.
"You again? What have you been up to, old cat?" as Fangclaw twisted his head behind his shoulder, he spotted the despicable molly covered in pale gray fur hiding in the bushes. Whatever Moonstar thinks about herself, Fangclaw knows that she would be the ugliest thing the forest had ever seen. "I'm marking my clan's borders," the ginger tom retorted, his fur bristled and ears gone flat, ready to pounce on this bossy-fur. The pale gray she-cat smirked and scoffed after she waddled out of her hiding place and got right up to the old tom's face, almost touching muzzles. Behind Moonstar were different cats than the others Fangclaw last saw. "You're not a clan," she backed away into the brambles. "You and your comrades just stole a bunch of land and decided it was a good idea to play make-believe!" She laughed her hindquarters off, fully vanishing. the patrol shared uneasy glances along with Fangclaw. He too can feel a threat from MeadowClan in the air, though not a lot. But what causes them the anxious feeling was... maybe the pale gray leader was right? No! She can't be; ClawClan IS a clan! but Fangclaw was still feeling self-doubt from each member. Then a cruel howling came out from the camp - oh no, not one, but two... no! Lots of howling!
"Pick up the pace for DeadClan's sakes!" Fangclaw growled at his patrol-mates as they fought to keep up to the leader. Hissing and howls from the camp are becoming louder as the patrol got nearer. Anxiety pricked the leader's stomach, and metallic blood aura is now in the atmosphere. As he pushed himself into the entrance, the only thing he saw was a few limp cats on the bloody-soaked grass. The other side shows cats fighting Clan-cats. LeafClan had set up a raid on ClawClan!