Warpaw's eyes glazed over the potential trinkets, judging which one could end his own life. Knife? Too cliche. Pipe? Brutal, but he would lose consciousness first. Monster? Easy to blame on an accident, sure, but not explosive enough. Explosions? Now there was an idea. If only Firedrinker wasn't leader.
To speak of the devil, Blooddrinker heralded the young tomcat with news of a riot breaking out over the forbidden words being spoken. "What?" He snarled, "I can't believe I'm missing a perfectly good mosh!" Culling the Clan of a few Gaes-struck would relieve his stress perfectly. Without waiting for Blooddrinker's reply, he rushed back to the camp. Muscles burning, breath ragged, the red tomcat bolted into the compound like a fallen star crashing into the ground, the explosiveness of his entry leading to the reveal of his smaller, burned-out form. And like a meteorite, the excitement dissipated after the crash.
He arrived to see the wounded licked their scars, and the exhausted lapped up fresh-kill. Warpaw's disappointment blossomed into an incineration of rage. The tom yowled, "I FUCKING missed it?!" Dreadnaught strutted over to his brother. "Maybe if you weren't off sulking like a little emo bitch you'd actually catch a fight." Warpaw was in no mood for the newly-minted warrior to lord his rank. "Oh, I'm sorry I can't sit around camp all day sucking off Firedrinker and screaming like a wussy little primadonna cocksleeve. Hey, maybe for your brownnosing he'll make you deputy!" As Dreadnaught feigned indifference, Warpaw actually wished his brother would come down to his level and spit some insult back. "No, actually, he made Ringotingo deputy. Oh, and, don't worry, there's going to be another fight."
Warpaw rolled his eyes. "There always is."
Dreadnaught narrowed his focus, meowing, "Blooddrinker and Skeletonreign are out fetching everyone. We're migrating the whole Clan to search for the forest cats. Firedrinker's Firedrinker until we kill this 'Firestar' fellow." The matter-of-fact delivery let Warpaw knew that his brother was thinking the exact thing he was thinking of thinking. "Has Firedrinker said where we're starting?" Dreadnaught replied. "Clan territories across the other end of the Twolegplace. And since Pissbomber just arrived behind you, that makes everyone, so we're heading off immediately. Now let's go meet with the apprentices." Warpaw noticed the mention. "Us?" Dreadnaught's demeanor broke into a coy playfulness. "I wanna share tongues with Nightpaw." Warpaw tilted his head to the side and let his eyes widen. "And I wanna pull yours out and shove it up your own asshole just so you know what it's like to be fed by your own bullshit."
Dreadnaught chuckled, and tilted his head with a smile. The type of smile that says 'I just thought you should know that I do, in fact, piss in the shower.' He purred, "Aw, you're such a cute little apprentice." He turned around and flickered his tail in a 'come hither' motion, which Warpaw met with a half second of angry seething vibration, before following behind his brother, imagining all the ways he could disembowl him.
They passed by Firedrinker, overlooking the Clan. Warpaw heard him meowing, "Yeah, I'm going to miss it to. But we'll come back after this over." Strangely, Firedrinker paused, then turned his head to what didn't appear to be anyone in particular, and let out a small snarl, "Of course we need to do this. If I can't take leadership, what about the cat who replaces me? Will we miss out on Ringostar? And the cat after him?" Warpaw was almost out of earshot when Firedrinker meowed, "Of course I want to become the next leader. But this isn't about my rank. This is about my Clan having a future."
In his eavesdropping, Warpaw hardly noticed that his brother already went on ahead, and thanks to Nightpaw, Dreadnaught hadn't noticed either. The only cat who noticed seemed to be Firedrinker, staring down the apprentice. This time, his snarl was directly addressed, the cat's eyes burning into Warpaw's soul, "'War-' is such a powerful prefix. I really want you to get your warrior name, otherwise it's wasted on you. So, you need to stop being such a petty bitch." Warpaw blanked, too blindsided to be angry.
"Cats of DeathMetalClan," the seemingly-schizophrenic leader called out, "I hope you all have said your goodbyes to the shitty bars of metal and shitty Twoleg structures in this shitty lot, because we leave to slaughter the Clans NOW!" Warpaw joined them, and marched.
Beside the kits and queens and elders, he marched.
Beside the warriors, apprentices, and Ringotingo, whom he was convinced was actually a Twoleg in a very convincing costume, he marched. For the entire day, he and DeathMetalClan marched.
To keep their spirits up, the cats tried to sing. And for leaving for this hunt, they started by singing Off to the Hunt... by Korpiklaani. Firedrinker never joined in, his resolve more refined with each word. He felt the music. Warpaw studied him, watching the tomcat's claws scrape against the hard stone outlining all of Twolegplace, leaving a scar. Minor, easily overlooked, but still there.
And behind each of the leader's steps, a killing machine that was a horde of metalhead cats singing folk metal reinforced each of his clawmarks, much to the surprise and secret fear of the Twolegs nearby, going on their lives, blissfully unaware at the level of organization the local wildcats had displayed. The display was inspiring to Warpaw. And with each glance, the apprentice felt his own pawsteps slam heavier on the ground. His stride was powerful, his posture pronounced, and his breath melodic. It wasn't until the Clan had finished singing that he noticed that he actually caught up to Firedrinker.
He almost continued walking when Firedrinker stopped. "There's something wrong." Warpaw feared another lecture for marching out of place, inventing the reason altogether. Thankfully Megadeth, the Clan medicine cat, voiced Firedrinker's unspoken concern. "We should have reached the Clans by now." They reached the residential Twoleg dwellings. The river wasn't too far. So where were the damn cats!?
"The Clans, you said?"
At once, the Clan fell silent. All of them turned their heads towards the newcomer, a black-and-white plump cat. The newcomer almost jumped at the coordinated unison. "Erm... Uhm... well, are you looking for the forest Clans?" Firedrinker meowed, much too calm. "Yes. Could you tell us where they are?" The newcomer meowed, "They're no longer here. But.. we have a Clan here ever since they left. I'm Bigteeth!" At once, every DeathMetalClan cat started slowly walking towards Bigteeth, no doubt scared shitless by the incoming wave of ragged, dirty, stinking metalhead cats.
Firedrinker meowed, "Bigteeth. Are you a member of the forest Clans? And if you're not, where are they?" Bigteeth hunched lower a bit. Warpaw couldn't help but admire that he hadn't ran yet. "I-I'm a part of WarriorClan, but we're not like one of those-those Clans. We listen to stories from Barley and try to do what the forest cats did in the daytime, before going back to our Twolegs." Firedrinker purred, "That was one of the questions... now maybe this 'Barley' fellow could help us answer the second. Could we listen to his stories?" Bigteeth staggered a bit, shaking a bit before turning his tail and running. Firedrinker scowled before Megadeth meowed, "I've heard of this 'Barley' cat from some of the ex-BloodClan guys. He lives in a barn near the base of the Tallstones."
Steeltongue meowed, "It's getting dark. Should find someplace to camp so the... kits... or... some shit?" Firedrinker's head shook. He meowed, "No. There's still plenty of sunlight. We can reach the Tallstones and camp in the barn." Crossheart hollared, "How are we going to get there in time?"
Firedrinker purred. "We'll steal a monster."