Wildstorm leaped down from the wounded wolf, which soon began to pelt away. Suddenly, he heard his leaders cry for her kit.
"Oh no..." He whispered and unsheathed his claws into the soft dirt. Wildstorm turned his head towards the forest, "Hazelkit..." he hissed and ran towards the forest, the strong scent of Hazelkit and blood smeared the rank air, stinging his noise. His fur caught on passing bushes, tearing away his once, neat fur. He spotted a white wolf, holding tiny, Hazelkit in it's jaw's. She was either knocked-out or... "No, don't think that way.." He muttered.
Wildstorm launched himself from the underbush and onto the bottom of the wolf's jaw.
"You stupid piece of Fox-dung!, LET GO OF THE KIT! " He growled and sunk his teeth deep into it's jaw, feeling his teeth scrape bone.
Venompaw felt his body being pushed against trees, and bushes alike. Pain immobilized him, but he kept a firm grip on the young wolf, sinking his claw's deeper into it's eyes. It cried out in pain, and whipped its head around and sent Venompaw flying. Suddenly, Venompaw felt a searing pain smear across his eyes.
"Ahhh!" he yowled in pain, as hit the forest floor with a sickening *THUD!*.
The wolf had since ran off to its pack, tail between its legs. Venompaw tried to stand-up, but something was wrong, where was the forest? Where was his clan? Where was his territory?
Where was his sight?