Zeporah Vs. Bringer of Night

[Zeporah]

With a hiss of appreciation, Zeporah bled into the writhing mass of cats. Her dainty frame slinked among their number, weaving until her prey was spotted. Zeporah couldn't tell if the black she was currently in a fight or not, but that didn't matter. She was going to show this cat that she didn't need her sons to win a fight.

Without warning, she ran to the she, running low to keep a low profile. And without further ado, aimed to pounce on her old menace.

[Bristle + War]

Slice, rip. What a beautiful sound -- the choking of a dying cat. I am no villain, she thought. Why does the side who takes in cats who are different always have to be the villain's side? But Brinder of Night's thoughts were cut short as the wind was knocked out of her. Her chin and neck and chest landed in the bloody pool around her victim's body, soaking her with crimson red.
Disgusting! she hissed.
But that scent...so familiar. Where had she smelled it before? Ah of course. The queen. Lifting her chin, Night snarled, Where are your little boys, queenie? Now now, old Night was never the kind of cat who ran away from a fight.
She flipped over quickly and batted her paws in the general direction of that Zeporah's face. She didn't care where she hit her, as long as she did just that -- hit her.

[Zeporah]

With her ears flat against her head, Zeporah felt triumphant at her success, but didn't let the feeling elate her to a point where she was detached. In fact, she was so attached to this battle, she could almost feel her opponent.

Unable to avoid the attack, Zeporah simply turned her head, hoping that the claws would do as little damage as possible. And that it did. Small scratches on her cheek stung, but was not defective in her ensuing attack.

"Living honorable lives, dog breath. Unlike a certain someone I know." She countered the attack with the same one of her own.

[Bristle + War]

Night hissed as er face was stung with scratches to her cheek and nose. Honourable? she snarled, her tail lashing. You call scavenging through the rogue meadow honourable? Of course, she didn't know about their acceptance into StoneClan. But that didn't matter, StoneClan was weak; their belief in StarClan held them back from the true potential of a group of cats working together. StarClan bound the original Clans to a certain law.

The life of a BoneClan cat is honour, scum! Bringer of Night shrieked.

[Zeporah]

Zeporah smiled, liking the feel of the cat's flesh ripping in her claw's wake. That smile continued, as the she pointed out how dim-witted she truly was. "I wouldn't waste my energy in this war for a couple of mouse tails for nothing, Dog breath." She said nothing about joining a clan; however, leaving the responsibility of picking up the pieces for the she-cat. If she couldn't... Well it wasn't her problem.

Zeporah danced on her paws, leaving no room for an easy attack. Instead, she lept at her attacker, hoping to use all four claws and fangs in any way presentable. In her rush, she hissed in cool defiance, "You call attacking a pregnant queen, honorable, when she was doing little more then sniffing at your precious borders? Your sense of honor is as tainted as your smell."