Pinesimmer was not the cat anyone would want to find a kit. And honestly, he was very close to just turning around and leaving her for the crows. What possessed him not to do so, he would never know, but he instantly regretted it the moment he heard her tone, his own face morphed into a rather nasty look towards someone so young. "Please, if he cared, he wouldn't have ditched you on a clan border. I don't blame him either, what kind of parent wants a kit like YOU?"

"Oh really, then where is he? You look half dead, ya sure your dad isn't a ghost? He cares sooo much he left you in the care of others. Sorry, but I don't think NightClan takes charity cases." He snorted slightly at her clan comment. "Can't say this clan is really worthy of the title with my sister in charge, but in case you don't seem to get it, we the land you're sitting on is ours. We're a bunch of forest cats. Gotta love having waste of space family right, yours ditched you in the care of strangers, mine is just a useless foxheart who tried to kick me out." Should Pinesimmer be spilling trash talk about his sister right now? No. Did that stop the angular brown tom? Also no.

"Trust me, if NightClan didn't take charity cases, you would not still be here, Pinesimmer." The drizzling rain sleeked down his fur and plastered it against his sides, hugging tight against Phantomfox's rugged frame, as the guard captain stepped out from behind the kit, towering over Maia and observing her through steely eyes. She was feisty for sure, a trait that would do her well in life but not out here in the unforgiving wilderness. "Look kid, if your father left you here, he likely knows there's a clan nearby and he can come pick you up when he's done doing...whatever it is you city cats do, so you're gonna come wait out the rain with us. Pinesimmer can wait here and look out for him." He fixated a glare on the other tom before scooping Maia, two pounds of fury, up and turning to head back to camp despite her protests and shrieks.

To her credit, Maia put up a mighty fight for a tumbleweed. Her tiny claws weren't so much painful as they were annoying, but the unholy sound of her shrieking in his ears was enough to make a lesser cat punt her back the way she'd come. He could see his clanmates thinking as much as he entered the camp, most of them quickly deciding that returning inside their dens was favorable to being nosy and going deaf as a result.

"Quiet down, half-pint," growled the tom at Maia's accusations. "You'd have to have a home to be kidnapped from, but do tell me more about how giving you somewhere dry to sleep is assault." Phantomfox scooped a pawful of dirt and stuffed it into her mouth as she opened it, effectively silencing whatever she was about to answer with. Turning to his mate, he sighed. "I'm not sure where she came from, but she was tearing Pinesimmer a new one when I found them. Figured I'd bring her back here before it started to rain harder."

Rosethorn smacked Phantomfox's shoulder with her paw when he crammed dirt into the child's mouth, but she was distracted by the arrival of the leader. Maia had quieted down, preoccupied with the taste of earth in her mouth and the sudden crowd that made her feel self-conscious. These she-cats seemed more cordial at least, but Maia didn't seem to want to play nice with anyone at the moment.

"My name is Maia," she grumbled, glancing down at her feet sullenly. All of these cats had weird names, and they all were staring at her. "I was waiting for my dad and Phantomfox snatched me up." She did remember what her father had said, about accepting help from anyone who offered. "I s'ppose... I can wait here until the rain stops. But then I gotta go back and wait for my dad." The scrawny she-cat glanced up at Aspenstar, as if she dared her to disagree.

"Maybe a meal, too," Rosethorn chimed in, eyeing the ribs protruding from Maia's side.

"She does seem far more capable than Pinesimmer has ever been," agreed the guard, with a sidelong glower at the tom in question. He contemplated on if he should have shoved dirt into his mouth instead, seeming to deeply consider the prospect but forfeited the idea in favor of moving up against Rosethorn's side, curling his tail around hers. "I'm sure Foxkit wouldn't be opposed to having a friend to play with," he suggested, though instantly regretted the words, imagining his frail son being subjected to Maia's unreservedly sharp tongue.

There was savage---and there was Phantomfox's level of brutality, a performance of twisted and feral savagery few could withstand the sight of. Everyone around them melted away. All he understood in that moment was wrath.

Then, in the dead center of camp, with still curious eyes peering from the dens, he barreled into Pinesimmer, faster than he'd ever moved before in his life, and jammed a shoulder into his throat in an uppercut. He then hooked his claws into the tom's neck and used the grip he had to drag Pinesimmer into the dirt, twisting him until his stomach and chest were flat against the ground and being pricked by the sharp rocks beneath him. He wrenched each one of the tom's legs to impossible angles, bending them until sickening snaps reverberated through camp, rendering Pinesimmer's one advantage over him completely useless. You can't dodge without legs. He stooped so his breath, hot and wicked, shuddered the tom's whiskers, which he tore off one by one. "I know what it feels like to be a chew toy," a grin which could only be described as ungodly stretched the scars decorating his face, "and now you will too." Most of the bites he delivered were superficial---meant to be painful, not permanent---but the one memento he wanted to leave behind was to rip out a chunk of Pinesimmer's cheek, on the same side as which Phantomfox's own cheek was hollowed, his fangs carving through flesh, muscle, and nerve endings with a carnivorous ease.

When Phantomfox stepped back, from his face down to his paws were stained and matted a dark crimson, his sides and chest heaving, his silver eyes tinted with a bloody red haze. "Talk about my son again and you won't live to feel pain again," he vowed, and turned away, meeting the eyes of his mate and his leader in turn, neither shameful nor proud of what he'd done.

“Starclan above,” Rosethorn said, barely biting back the vomit that welled in her throat. Not too long ago, she wouldn’t have been able to stomach this kind of brutality- but she’d seen more blood and death than ever before only a few moons ago, and she found this sight was suddenly not too much to bear.

For her. Her son was another matter.

Rosethorn moved forward quickly, picking Foxkit up by the scruff of his neck and pulling him back into the safety of the nursery, mumbling something about talking later as she shot a glare in Phantomfox’s direction.

Maia, on the other hand, watched with a grin on her face. “That was cool, mister,” she said, glancing up at the blood covered Phantomfox. Rosethorn re-emerged to drag her into the nursery as well, sending someone else off to grab food for the scrawny tabby kit. Maia pouted as she was pulled away, wanting to be involved in the interesting developments outside.