Per the request of her leader, Vixenleap dove into rough battle training with a fellow experienced warrior. Her passion, unfortunately, got in the way and resulted in things going a little too far. Thankfully the hot-tempered warrior caught herself before things progressed too far on her part, but her clanmate failed to stop himself. The fire-colored female stalked off with stiff legs, anger boiling in her veins and a hot crimson liquid oozing out of her face. The strong, metallic taste of her own blood bathed her tongue, and pain seared across the bridge of her nose where the gaping wound mocked her.

Just keep walking, keep walking.

If she turned around to rush back to her clanmate, the situation would end badly. Her overwhelming fire powers might overtake and burn the warrior to a crisp out of revenge, and Vixenleap knew she would regret it in the end. She was loyal to her Clan, even if her bloodlines were deeply embedded in the ranks of ShadowClan. She would not allow that to be the judgement of her character.

The sticky crimson liquid dripped slowly on the snowy earth, leaving a pink trail of where she ventured. She parted her jaws to breathe in hopes that the pain would subside, but it seemed to only make it intensify. She gritted her teeth and fought through the pain, with her ferocious heart beating as loudly and fast as the hooves of a fleeing stag. It would not let her breathing slow. She had to calm down.

Vixenleap stopped in her tracks and froze in her place, save for the slow dripping of blood from the gash on her nose. Ahead was a figure of a cat, so motionless that she thought that leafbare may have solidified them in time for eternity. Her next thoughts went to ShadowClan and a possible intruder, causing her body heat to escalate once more before she forced her hackles flat.

It was only her leader.

Why was he out here all by his lonesome? He had much more fur than her, so he'd have no troubles with sitting out in the snow for hours, but it didn't seem like him to be skulking around. "Lynxstar?" The obnoxious warrior called out in a quieter tone than usual, simply to make her presence known, "is something bothering you?"

"Younger cats may fear war," the red warrior agreed almost thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the horizon as she searched for the proper words. "...but in time, it's something we all come to face and experience. Maybe it isn't always the best solution, but there's no saying it's always preventable." Indeed, a war against ShadowClan meant she would have to face family members, where her roots began. But that didn't mean she wouldn't protect ThunderClan and fight for them with every last breath. What was home wasn't dictated by blood, it was decided by where the heart lied.

She removed the obnoxious blood from her nose with an effortless motion of her paw. "But you've every right to ask Sagewhisker to go light on herbs. ThunderClan is hardy, young cats can recover on their own with no complications. It's important that herbs are preserved until leafbare loosens its cold grip on our territory." While Vixenleap was no medicine cat, she understood the hardships of the cold moons. While greencough was likely to run rampant, simple injuries like her own could go ignored. If a cat was responsible enough with cleaning their wounds, they wouldn't have to panic over infection.

The warrior hesitated for a few heartbeats. Never before had she spent much time chatting with her leader, instead she typically followed his orders without question. Was it foolish of her? Perhaps, but she was always confident in his abilities and dedicated to serving her clan for eternity. The ruddy warrior took a few steps forward before slowly seating herself beside Lynxstar.

Meditation, bringing peace. A sense of calm was something the fiery warrior could most certainly use. It may be useful during those times of high aggression, like the event that had occurred between her and the warrior moments before she came across Lynxstar. "Mediation...I've never heard of it. How do you do it?"

It was an...unusual situation, but she would show no disrespect towards the leader she so eagerly followed and supported. Relaxation wasn't her thing, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time she permitted herself a break. Vixenleap was always on the go-- it was just how she was, and how she'd always been. As a warrior who was slowly aging, life was short, and only Starclan knew what her time would come. So she never wanted to sit around and wait for it, she just wanted to live her life before it was stolen away from her.

But, maybe some time for reflection was necessary, perhaps she'd learn something of value in these spare moments. No point in running off now anyways-- more than likely, she'd just march back up to that warrior who gave her a scratch, and she'd give them something uglier to worry about. Obeying, she took in a deep breath as she straightened herself up, allowing her shoulders to relax as she exhaled. She needed something to think about, but what? Battle training? Burning things? Beating the sense into that warrior from earlier?

All too violent, they all left her shifting restlessly and her fur fluffing. This meditation practice was becoming frustrating, and fast.

But then, she found it: the chase, the hunt, the thrill of it all. Eyes closed, she recalled the feeling of freedom as the wind raced beside her and ran through her fur, the feeling of solid earth disappearing under her paws as she bolted after prey. To most, it didn't seem like the most tranquil situation to focus on, but to Vixenleap...it was everything.

After a long period of silence, she cracked open a single eye to glance in his direction. "Your mentor, she seemed...wise." The red warrior never recalled the she-cat's name, she never knew the cat on a personal level. She was that way with most of her clanmates, anyways.

Hmph. Maybe he didn't like his mentor as she had expected. However, as he continued, he increasingly piqued her interest, but not exactly in a way that might be anticipated. What did he mean by "weeding out the weak"? Leaning in with her eyes almost narrowed, the ruddy warrior wrapped her wiry tail around her paws tightly, sounding almost defensive as she responded to Lynxstar. "...And what do you mean by 'weeding out the weak'? You wouldn't be applying that to your own warriors, would you?" If he was referring to ShadowClan and DarkClan-- fine, she'd happily beat the stuffing out of ThunderClan enemies. But if he wanted to rid ThunderClan of loyal warriors? The patriotic she-cat would not sit by and watch him. While she was all for a good fight, Vixenleap believed that all warriors of her Clan could contribute to their cause in different ways. Not all cats were built upon strength, others relied on their agility to outmaneuver their enemy, something she found to be equally as important. Her loyalty was to her Clan...that didn't necessarily mean she had to do what Lynxstar thought was right.

"Noble and respected? Oh please, Lynxstar, don't make me blush." The comment immediately broke whatever tense air she had remaining, an almost cocky smile cracking across her features as she rose in a semi-stretch. The aging warrior had been called many things in her lifetime, some not appropriate to discuss in front of her leader. But noble? That was far from it. She was what she was named after-- a sly fox. If cheating was necessary to ensure her success over some ShadowClan cat in combat, then so be it.

But, a training organizer? Vixenleap was flattered by his offer, but her combat style was much more similar to that of her unfavorable heritage, rather than a typical ThunderClan brute. Her muscles were thin and compact, giving her a lighter weight than her clanmates. Indeed, sparring against her was wise, it would give a warrior a good taste of what was to come, should war with ShadowClan be inevitable. But her methods of fighting weren't ideal for a ThunderClan warrior. "Alright, Lynxstar. I accept your challenge."

Was she interested in accepting the position he had offered? Perhaps not. Right now, her priority was trying to kick Lynxstar's tail. How often was one presented with the opportunity to have a skirmish with the leader himself? Surely Lynxstar had a real punch behind him-- he wouldn't be leader of ThunderClan for nothing.

Her approach was swift as lightning, darting at him head-on in an instant. The fiery warrior would not hesitate to strike at him, but not in the blunt fashion of a ThunderClan cat. She was rash, but Vixenleap was still clever, and she was well aware that she'd stand no chance against the black smoke tom head-on. Darting to the side, she decided to be somewhat of a...cheater. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind too much.

With a quick parting of her jaws, Vixenleap closed her mouth around the thick of Lynxstar's tail and gave him a mighty, rude tug to pull him off balance and hopefully give her the upper hand.

Hm, he was alright, then. But peace, peace was a rare object around the clans, and while there were moments when time seemed to stand still and troubles seemed little, absolute peace was impossible. Chaos was part of life, part of nature, and it seemed that ThunderClan could only adapt and guide those who couldn't see that. Attempting to keep the peace among the other clans was vital, it was ThunderClan's calling, but sometimes it seemed to only make matters worse. But she had no place in such a discussion-- she was just a patriotic ThunderClan cat who would happily but her throat on the line.

She recoiled when the snow, ice, and dirt mixture impacted her face. She instinctually squeezed her pale eyes shut to protect them from damage, ears pinned as she pulled her head in the opposite direction in which the waste was coming from. Promptly Vixenleap shook her head to remove any remaining debris, sending a hot glare in her leader's direction, only for a shockingly pleased grin to follow. So, this "righteous" leader of hers truly was capable of playing dirty as well, eh? She almost grew a morsel of newfound respect for him. The freezing dirt and ice left her face stinging, and the bridge of her nose swiftly grew boiling hot as sticky fluid began to flow down it once more.

"Dear Lynxstar, do you doubt me? Personally, I didn't expect a fluffball like yourself to be capable of moving so swiftly on his paws." Muscsles tight and hungering for more, she eagerly awaited his next move. Her instincts and reflexes ordered her to jump, and although they almost always prevailed, she moved just a hair too slowly. As she began to leap away, a single tendril snagged her by the paw. With the faintest pop, pain seared through the muscle in her paw, and the leg begged that wait not be put on it.

Damn leg would just have to deal with it, she had business to tend to.

Forced back onto the ground, the red warrior huffed at him before her frustrated expression melted into something more smug. The the temperature of the air surrounding the russet she-cat began to skyrocket until sparks emitted from her presence, allowing her to scorch the flora that grasped her. "Were you never taught to not mess with fire?" She was just itching to boast her Fire Claws ability and start that thick coat of his on fire. But, that was a little risky, both to Lynxstar and herself.

So instead, with her sparks flying from her body, she decided to leap onto Lynxstar and give him a big hot "hug" to his back, and see how long he could tolerate her increasing temperature. Would he ignite? Maybe, but she was confident that the surrounding snow and frozen earth could extinguish him if things got out of hand.

In life, there was always a sort of "balance" born from opposites. When something went up, gravity always brought it back down. When a flame grows too large and becomes uncontrollable, there's always water to quench it. That being said, there was always a risk with an action, and Vixenleap had assessed her risks, but the potential to fry Lynxstar had outweighed the negatives. She was aware of his large size, and StarClan knew what could be hiding under that thick coat of his. A ton of more weight to crush her with, perhaps.

As he came crashing down, her worst prediction had come into play. Yes, Lynxstar wasn't at risk for bursting into flames now, but his massive size was about to crush her skull and force her eyes to pop out of their cavities.

He didn't need his coat to burn, he needed to burn calories.

Squirming underneath the leader as the air was forced from her lungs at the impact, Vixenleap tried to fight for her freedom. Poor judgement and a little too high of hopes on her part had cost her the skirmish. Yes, she had lost, and she accepted her defeat...but the fact that she got to spar with Lynxstar? That made her victorious over all of her clanmates. She would only grow stronger from this failure. One day, she'd be the one standing over him.

"I let you win." The red warrior lied with a small, sarcastic huff. "Let me up before I smear my nose blood all over your little paws."