wc rebels write it on my neck // scouting patrol

[Periwinklebreeze.]

TASTED LIGHT BUT FED THE DARK
WAITING FOR THEM ALL TO SEE​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 18 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ he/they ❀ windclan moor runner​

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Bluepool had entrusted him with leading this patrol - him, of all cats. Periwinklebreeze can hardly believe it, even now after they've set out. At first, he is silent - a state of shock leaving his mind blank and thoughts empty. It takes all his brainpower to even put one paw in front of the other. He'd never been given such a responsibility - never been trusted. It feels good, in that sickeningly addictive way it'd felt to hear his name called out before the crowd upon his naming ceremony.

Head shakes, pace quickening as they reach their destination, fur prickling on edge. - and at last he turns his attention to his clanmates... if they can even be called that anymore. Of course, to peri, they are windclan - it's sootstar and her worshippers who have strayed from the path, who no longer deserve to bear such a title as 'clan'. But it's not something he can say out loud - not something meant for polite conversation.

It's at least comforting to know that the faces at his heels are those he's familiar with, known since forever. Gravelsnap, who he'd once been on unpleasant tmrs with but now calls his friend, who shares the same feelings as him. Goldenstrike - vulturemasks sibling, his own sibling in all but blood. Not the closest for someone he considers kin by nature of their very existence, but a cat he cares for nonetheless. Foxglare is the exception - a stranger, a newcomer to the clan. He'd never really gotten to know him - never tried either. An unknown.

Ears twitch, and at last jaws part, milky gaze done with his observations. " It's.. q-quiet, " he says softly, gentle voice as out of place against battle scarred frame as the sticky-sweet scent he calls his own. " I don't th-think... any of s-s-sootstars cats have c-com our way, " he adds, scenting the air - though uncertainty lingers in his heavy gaze as he looks to gravelsnap for guidance. He's the more experienced of them both after all - if anyone were to catch something he'd missed, it'd be him.

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

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T O ━ L O V E ━ M Y S E L F ━ I S ━ W A Y ━ T O ━ H A R D

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@GRAVELSNAP @FOXGLARE @Goldenstrike
/ sorry it got so wordy, i wanted to do something big for his 400th post

 

[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ Foxglare wondered if they trusted him. 'Course, all this time he'd done his due diligence to align himself with what he thought (what he knew) was right. He fought tooth and claw to drive out the thieving usurpers from the clans' homes (all of them, he'd fought alongside, not only Windclan), and stood against the rotting sycophants that dared to call themselves clanmates when Sunstride made his rallying cry. Still, something was living within the consciences of their ragtag group, the threat that any of them was one of Sootstar's dogs in hiding. He knew very well he likely seemed stiff-shouldered and aloof on his best of days. So, the young tom supposed that it was only practical to hold onto a healthy dose of caution in the back of their minds.

Foxglare is diligently sniffing around some bushes for signs of cat-scent when Periwinklebreeze reports his (lack of) findings. "Don't smell nothin' over here either, not yet anyway," he responds with his eyes on the horizon, turning back to see the other tom looking toward Gravelsnap for confirmation. He blinks at the black-and-white pair, hoping he hadn't butt into their discussion by mistake...

HOW COULD YOU THINK, DARLIN', ⁀➷☾⁺₊ I'D SCARE SO EASILY?

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 14mo moor-runner of windclan
  — a large, scarred light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — hs by ava, fullbody by antiigone
  — penned by eezy

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[GRAVELSNAP]

➴➴ Gravelsnap is all too glad to follow behind Peri like a dutiful warrior. The anxiety that's made its home curled tightly around their ribs for the past month has loosened its grip a bit, knowing that if anything is to happen to either themself of Peri, they're both here. They had already spent far too long sitting uselessly in camp awaiting the other tom's return, not knowing whether he was ever going to come back home. They have a hard time letting Periwinklebreeze out of their sight, these days. And if that means they spend a majority of their patrol having to rip their eyes away from the other warrior's face in order to actually pay attention to their surroundings, then so be it.

Despite the touch of distraction, Gravelsnap has been as vigilant as possible, keeping a sharp eye out for any of Sootstar's hounds. It hadn't been long ago that one of the tunneler patrols had been attacked, and they would hate to allow a patrol of enemies to sneak up on them again. When Periwinklebreeze looks to them for—for what? Approval, confirmation?—they shift uncomfortably, glancing around once more. "No scent besides our own warriors," he comments, though he does glance at Foxglare and Goldenstrike to ensure that neither of them have anything to add. The four of them make a good team, he thinks. But still, his thoughts are far away from things such as teamwork. "I can't believe everything ended like it did…" The tom trails off with a shake of his head, still seeming a bit far-off.​

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