This is what it boiled down to. Grousestar had absolutely had enough of the Syndicate's behavior and it was time to put an end to it. While he hated bringing his clan to battle again, he knew it was the only way to drive it through the thick skull of the Syndicate that Skyclan was not a clan to be trifled with. He warned them to not anger the cats of the mountains.
With thundering paws the brown tabby leader led his warriors through the territory of the Syndicate, ignoring the scent markers and any doubt he may have had, barreling straight where the scents of these heathens was strongest, the heart of their territory, their camp. While it likely would have been smarter to attack during the night, when most of the enemy was asleep, Grousestar had chosen broad daylight to attack. If he were to defeat an enemy, he wanted to defeat them squarely, not with an advantage.
He could tell they were getting closer to the camp, the scents were growing stronger. Claws unsheathing, Grousestar flattened his ears against his head, making sure his breathing was controlled so that he could maintain his stamina. This would be a hard battle, these cats would fight to the death and with every dirty trick in the book, he knew, but he had faith in his clan and he had faith in Starclan.
With a loud, piercing yowl, the leader launched himself into the Dusk Syndicate clearing, fur bristling and emerald gaze blazing.
"Skyclan, attack!"
It was time to put an end to this reckless band of monsters once and for all.