border π’πˆπ‚πŠ π“πŽ 𝐌𝐘 π’π“πŽπŒπ€π‚π‡ β•± π–πˆππƒπ‚π‹π€π ππ€π“π‘πŽπ‹

To stand once more before this border β€” he cannot know quite what he feels. What had once been camaraderie now stood slighted, dripping blood from a wound he knows is pitiful to carry with him. The pedestal he had put his hopes upon had been quickly crushed by Chilledstar's warning to him upon this very border, and Smogmaw's announcement at the gathering would only add to the prickling. Bluepool was right to send him here. It is better to get over his worries now than allow them to fester any longer. And perhaps he would be granted further assurance that Halfpaw was recovering well in the clan she had always meant to be a part of. Though she had begged, and he had nearly capitulated, it seemed that she adjusted well.

It is for that familiar pelt that his eyes search for in the distant foliage. ShadowClan is good at hiding within their territory, and he knows the fading light behind him will only add to their advantage. His own tail warns caution to his clanmates, though he does not bother to warn them with his words on how they should act with the other clan. Instead, the rust-colored warrior crouches along the moorland border, and murmurs: "Do you feel that?" He glances to Rivepaw from the corner of his gaze. The ground beneath their paws rumbles subtly. "Keep yourself from the black stone; watch." The rumbling grows louder and louder still, until it builds to a crescendo– a monster flies past their faces, a gust of wind threatening to knock even the solidly built tom off of his paws. "We live far too close to their home," he sighs. "You must be cautious coming to this border."
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  • OOC. @rivepaw @Goldenstrike @Morningsong~ @slateheart
  • sun_icon_new2.png
    SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.   ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
    ——– HE – HIM – HIS β•±β•± 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.

    TH β•±β•± A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES
 
IF ONLY I FELL FOR YOUR FICTION
TELL ME THINGS THAT CAN'T BE TRUE

maggotfur β™› 16 moons β™› female β™› she/her β™› shadowclan warrior

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Of all their borders, the one they share with windclan is, by far, the one maggotfur is most familiar with. Before chilledstars newest rule of not going out alone, she'd often wandered to the blackened path in search of whatever unfortunate souls had been hunted by monsters that day, skeletons picked clean by carrion birds. And of course, other things - like crossing the border to trade trinkets with sunflowermask, or their 'friendly' fight when sootstar and her dogs had come in search of smogmaw.

Yes, the sight of the thunderpath and the acrid scent brings back all manner of memories she'd rather not revisit - and yet, vibrant eyes can't help but search for familiar golden pelt, heart can't hep but feel disappointment when she doesn't find it. Windclan cats are like rats, scurrying about in hoards and sticking their noses where they don't belong - weak and pathetic and yet still willing to bite. She should not care - but she does, and she hates it. Resentment wells up inside her and instead of being cordial she finds herself irked - though her sour disposition is nothing new to her clanmate's. If only they knew the reason why.

" Tch - windclan, " she spits out, as though it is a curse - and perhaps it is. " You know by now not to stray to close to the thunderpath, yes? Then let's mark this and get back to camp, " she says, turning her gaze upon @Ptarmiganpaw - honestly, her apprentice was nearly as old as herself, having been a reassignment instead of a fresh face plucked from the nursery. If he's really so fluff-brained as to not know such a simple thing... well, maggotfur isn't sure how he's lived this long.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

F O O L ━ M E ━ O N C E ━━━ T H A T S ━ O N E ━ T O O ━ M A N Y

 

β‹†ο½‘οΎŸβ˜οΈŽο½‘β‹†ο½‘ ゚☾ οΎŸο½‘β‹† The first gathering in moons that WindClan had attended felt eerie and haunting to Slateheart. Despite the acceptance of Sunstar's leadership and the relief from Sootstar's fall, he couldn't help but suspect an underlying hostility in Smokestar's words as she prayed for WindClan's redemption. Chilledstar wasn't there to speak on the matter; he wondered if ShadowClan felt the same. He wouldn't blame them.

Straying so close to ShadowClan's border today felt unnerving, as tense as that gathering felt for him. Smogmaw's warnings were not lost on him. "Hope the rogue trouble has left their territory," Slateheart mumbled with an anxious tilt of his ears. For their sake, and for WindClan's as well. They could not afford any quarrels right now. Sunstar crouches to examine the black stone, a teaching moment for Rivepaw, and a lesson Slateheart remembers from his own apprenticeship. He channels focus into his own paws, observes a pebble dancing amongst the dirt, and as predicted, a monster flies by. The fumes make Slateheart's head reel, and he takes a careful step back to clear his nose.

As per usual, ShadowClan's patrol had arrived around the same time and now mirrored them across the Thunderpath. One warrior in particular voices her opinion in a venom-laced scowl - Slateheart, after his harsh training and plentiful patrols otherwise, knows better than to respond antagonistically. In fact, he does not respond at all - he holds his tongue and marks the border where he stands, ensuring he looks anywhere but at Maggotfur. If any words were to be shared, he'd leave it up to Sunstar.



  • SLATEHEART ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 19 moons.
    β­ƒ a short-furred black tom with low white markings and green eyes.
    β­ƒ son of LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE // brother to GRAVELSNAP, ASHPAW
    β­ƒ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    β­ƒ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

She had attended ThunderClan's border plenty of times since her escape from the nursery, but this was the first time that she was faced with the moorlands in some time. Ferndance stuck close to Maggotfur, scarcely flinching as a monster whirled past them "The smell on the air... tepid and heathery..." Mixed with the smell of smoke from the monster's maw - rosey nostrils wrinkled in distaste. Wide eyes settled on the border parallel to their own, blinks sluggish as she watched the average-sized patrol come into view. Ears pinned back in acceptance, the friendly jabs she used to offer their neighbours were a thing of the past, shattered by crimes that even the chaotic neutral tabby could not overlook. Her smile was grim, fatalistic, her greeting short and to the point as if meeting an ex-mate for the first time in moons."Kitcatchers." It was not a title stated with any malice, it was simply what they were. Within the quiet of the border, she could only be grateful that, despite the broken code, her own had not become apprentices yet: she wouldn't trust those who roamed the fields.

 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Albeit the change windclan had gone through and them turning over to a new leaf, Snowpaw still felt some wariness towards them. After all, this was a clan that had cause pain and hurt to one of her dearest friend. Kitnappers, yet...Sunstar had been the one to return Laurelpaw and Halfpaw home, and the ones who defeated the "moor queen" bringing stability back to windclan so... perhaps he could be trustworthy. Yet still it would be best to keep a cautious eye on them instead of being totally friendly with the other clan.

She stayed close to @Scorchedmoon calmly keeping her silence, having nothing to say to the other clan before them yet her yellow eyes stayed on them while the stentch of monsters and the thunderpath stung at her nose. Ears perked forward as she waited for some lesson or caution from Scorchedmoon, even an order while she stayed focused on the other group before them.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw ❄ She/Her, apprentice of Shadowclan, 7 moons.
    β­ƒ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    β­ƒ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    β­ƒ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    ↛ see battle info here
    β­ƒ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 


Ferndance's offhand remark chips away at his composed exterior. A smile tugs at his lips' edge, for the molly isn't wrong in her assessment. "Heh. Yeah." Terracotta eyes immerse the opposing leader in avid focus, as he mulls over the current state of their clans' ties from the shadows.

There lies a gulf between political opinion and genuine sentiment, wherein authenticity resides as both the bridge and the barrier. Authenticity, a commodity produced by the idealists and naive among the clans, a tool sought by the power-hungry and the sincere alike, and the axle upon which the scales of persuasion tilt.

A leader worth their merit strives to exude authenticity to the highest degree possible, and to Sunstar's credit, he has consistently upheld this difficult standard. The new leader of WindClan has been handed a slate tarnished by despotism and spilt blood, and yet he views it not as a burden, but as a canvas for transformation. He is a visionary who sees himself steering his people toward a better tomorrow. An era where the moor-dwellers' identity is shaped not by hostility, but rather upright principles and integrity.

Such is where authenticity becomes a stumbling block for any meaningful progress. Sunstar's relentless focus on transformation has left him oblivious to the transgressions of his people in times gone by. His moralistic rhetoric is crafted into this shield to protect his clan from the repercussions of their own choices. He sculpts the previous tyrant-in-chief as a scapegoat, and recasts the role of his clanmates as victims and not enablers. But reconciliation is a two-way path, and one paved by mutual accountability.

Until he confronts the historical injustices permitted and praised by WindClan, there is no good reason for the other clans to regard the moor-dwellers' plights with compassion or understanding, or view them as anything other than kit-stealers, harbourers of leader-killers, and warmongers.

Smogmaw attempted to caution him of this atop the Great Rock, in a manner measured, rational, and diplomatic, but also clear, pointed, and unambiguous. Smokestar's brash and bellicose rhetoric was but an early taste of things to come, and a signal indicating that reconciliation will be a long and strenuous process; hence, a process which should be initiated without delay.

"What do you think?" he asks the former lead warrior, and his own apprentice @ASHENPAW, and all others on the basis of proximity. Naturally, none are privy to his inner musings, and as such he elaborates. "Can we anticipate closure from them anytime soon? Or do they believe a change in leadership is enough? They're all implicated, after all, standing idly 'n supporting Sootstar 'til her madness posed a threat against 'em."

His tail curls about the back of his legs. The tom's gaze is distant, lost in thought. WindClan's predicament is such that ShadowClan stands to gain from both cordial and antagonistic relations. If Sunstar positions his clan as an easy target for blame, and paints his predecessor as a single-clawed villain, then there is no incentive for the other clans to cooperate with his vision; and true to power's finite nature, when WindClan is at a disadvantage, the spoils are easily reaped. Yet, if the reconciliation route is chosen, then ShadowClan will benefit from the resumption of their preferential status.

Smogmaw has no preference. His clan's well-being and prosperity is his foremost priority, and it will remain so, regardless of the political winds that blow across the moors.

But, on a personal level, he would very much like it if Sunstride gave a compelling cause for faith in his leadership. It'd lighten his mental load substantially, and significantly simplify his own plans for the future.

 
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