Prisoner of War (spain)

The tom huffed lightly as he stayed there, his ears flicking and he watched him, letting out a sigh, "Orangemist" He muttered, watching the other closely, despite losing as much blood as he did, he still had enough sense to keep a close eye on his current enemy.

Flintwing frowned, thinking to himself. The tom had one thing above him in this situation, and that was experience. He was still new to his role, while this enemy obviously had experience. No point in hiding what I'm trying to do, I suppose, he thought to himself.

"Well, enemy warrior, we don't have very many prisoners right now, so I am trying to get you to relax, soften up, and become more willing to talk." He tapped his tail on the ground in front of the enemy's muzzle tauntingly. "And to answer your question, I am loyal, but not cruel. I do not want to see you suffer needlessly. He paused. "Now, I have answered one of your questions. Answer mine. What's your name?"

The tom lashed his tail, laying there and he gave the other a glare, "Why do you care?" He questioned and growled lightly, his ears back, "You're all the same, giving false hope for maybe a little decency" He scoffed, he was tempted by the deal, but in past experience he had only been lied to.

Flintwing growled in one last warning and backed up, sensing that the tom was losing his fight. As least for now. "I won't touch any of your other claws unless you give me a reason to," he mewed quietly.

The male paused momentarily, staring down at his new prisoner, who was now going to be his problem for who knew how long. "I'll make you a deal..." he paused again, "...warrior. Give me your name, and promise to not fight back for tonight, and I'll patch you up and get you food. Otherwise, I'll rip the juiciest squirrel apart right in front of you and eat it myself."

Orangemist growled loudly in pain, continuing to thrash and he flexed his claws that were left, panting and he lashed his tail, baring his fangs, if he hadn't been tied up, he probably would have tried to attack the other tom, who knows, but blood loss was starting to get to him, even if he was trying to hide it, he was starting to give in for the time being, the lain from his claws being torn out dulling his senses.

Flintwing gave the tom an annoyed look, and he just shook his head. Obviously he had underestimated him, but he was still completely helpless. At least as far as Flintwing could see. "If that's true..." he murmured calmly, and bent down and swiftly ripped out claw after claw from the same forepaw until the paw had no more claws left. Flintwing could tell that he had to be careful now, as the sheer pain could put the tom into severe shock, and a small pool of blood was beginning to form from the injured paw.

The tom snarled as his claw was ripped from his paw and he thrashed more to try and strike out at the tom, "Like this will work on me" He hissed, trying whatever he could to hit the other tom anywhere, "I don't need claws to destroy you" He snapped, the older tom had been a prisoner from other clans before, he was used to the torture, he was the one from his clan that would be captured just to get others out or assassinate different clan members from enemy clans.

"Damn," the tom muttered, surprised when the struggling of the admittedly strong male caused him to become unbalanced momentarily. Usually the prisoners understood that if they just cooperated, they'd be treated reasonably well and really had nothing to fear, unless they had killed or seriously injured one of his clanmates, which would call for punishment.

One of the reasons Flintwing had gotten this position was his ability to be ruthless if called for. All apprenticed went through a test where they were told to capture a piece of prey alive and then demonstrate long how they were willing to torture it to death in front of their mentors. Most apprentices had lasted a day, but Flintwing had kept his alive for nearly a week, easily outdoing all the other apprentices, all while keeping the bird in constant fear and pain by plucking it's feathers, slicing it's skin or tongue, and any other creative methods he could come up with.

"This is how our relationship works," he hissed, and he stepped forward and within a few seconds, had gripped the enemy warrior's paw and grabbed one of the unsheathed claws between his teeth and ripped it out cleanly. "That's claw number one, you have 17 left. Submit or I'll make it 16," Flintwing snarled.

The tom snarled when he felt the crunch of his tail and he thrashed as best he could, his claws unsheathed and he tried anything to get at the other cat, almost breaking the vines around his front paws.

"Starclan...?" the young tom stared down hard at the enemy warrior, smirking. "Starclan won't save you here, you're alone and you're helpless." The young tom got annoyed by the tail thrashing about, sometimes smacking against his legs somewhat painfully. To make a point, Flintwing pinned the warrior's neck down with a hindpaw as he leaned over and bit the tail hard, feeling a slight crunch as he drew blood, and he held it in his mouth to see how the prisoner would react.

The tom growled and squirmed under the other male's paw, he thrashed as best his restraints would let him and he bared his fangs, "Maybe I can teach your apprentices a thing or two about whos side they're really for" He snapped, glaring toward the other male, his tail lashing against the floor, "Come on you piece of fox dung, kill me, at least I'll be going to Starclan" He spat.

Flintwing sighed and stepped completely inside the den. The inside was constructed with thick walls entangled with thorns to make it impossible for prisoners to dig themselves out, and to further defy resistance, pointed wooden sticks jutted out of the wall and pointed inwards, stopping any quick advanced a number of prisoners may attempt to make.

"No, you idiot, you couldn't," the young male replied deeply, his eyes narrowing. His training as a watcher kicked in, and he stepped up to the tom without an ounce of fear and smacked his cheek downward with a heavy paw, making his head slam against the ground. "I don't want to hurt you, and there's no need for any death today. But if you keep resisting, I'll put your gag back on and leave the bounds on you. And maybe let our apprentices use you for practice at the same time." He lifted a paw and pressed it on the enemy's neck, growling.

The large tom squirmed in his restraints and he growled at the new face in the fortress, his tail lashing aggressively, his torn ears flat against his skull, "Screw you" He hissed, his claws bloodied and unsheathed, "I could best you with my paws tied, fox dung" He growled out, intending to be as much of a problem for these cats until he either was killed or broke out, either option perfectly fine for the tom.

"Flintwing," a quiet voice drew him from his slumber in the warrior's den. There had been multiple battles going on for days along the border, and he had participated in 3 of them before being dragged off by his team's leader, forcing him to get some sleep before he could return. Flintwing lifted his head and growled questioningly. "I'm putting you on prisoner duty. We've got our first one. It'll be just you for a few days. I swear Darkclan must have the majority of their warriors out there right now.

Flintwing opened his jaws to protest but the cat vanished before he could argue, and he sighed, knowing he was stuck with the duty.

He hauled himself up and jogged across the large camp to the prisoner's den, which had been constructed through a massive amount of catpower long ago, using wood, sticks, and vines to tie a nearly indestructible fortress. In it, he heard the "Starclan destroy you all" as the warriors who had brought him emerged out, their eyes tired and their pelts bloodied.

"Say one more word and I'll rip your tongue out of your skull," Flintwing barked back at the male, nodding to the other warrior's that they were free to go. He was a young warrior, and it felt odd to have superiority over the others, but as a watcher he automatically outranked all warriors except other watchers.

(Yep I can real quick)

Orangemist growled as he was being dragged by other cats, the tom squirmed and hissed at the cats. The tabby tom squirmed as his paws were bound and his muzzle bound as well, he had just been captured by his clan's enemy and taken to their prison, muttering curses and growls as he was thrown into one of their holding areas, still bound but his muzzle was freed, "Starclan destroy you all" He growled deeply and lashed his tail aggressively.

you wanna go for the first post?

Name: Flintwing
Gender: Male
Rank: Warrior/Watcher
Age: 25 moons
Mate: None
Appearance:
Other: Fiercely devoted to well-being of his clan. Dominant personality.

Okey dokey~ I don't have much time before work but I can get some replies in.



Name: OrangeMist
Gender: Tom
Age: 36 Moons
Personality: Hard headed, aggressive, dominant nature, rest developed through rp

Here we go! My replies will probably be a little infrequent just so you know, but we'll develop it with time

I'll get my char sheet done asap