border EVOLUTION, BABY! ↷ [shadowclan moonhigh patrol]

[smogstar]

Ghostly moonlight serves as their guide through the sodden morass. The lunar gleam is superfluous for the tom's own navigation; he has roamed these lands for more seasons than he can tally, and he is intimately familiar with the marshland terrain. What effects lingered from snowmelt, however, render his precision dull and out of focus, and with every squelching pawstep, stealth further regresses from intent to mere chance. The muck on his ankles is cold and grimy as well. Fitting for the ShadowClan deputy (similarly distinguished in reputation), yet even as he stumbles gracelessly down the path, Smogmaw bears a stoic and disciplined tread that far surpasses what discomfort he feels.

Mind, the line between stoicism and apathy is as delicate as spider's silk, and Smogmaw all too often gets caught in the web of misreading one as the other.

"Alright, mark." Having crept to the cusp of the elevated ridge which bisects the two territories, the order is given to make the land carry their presence. Moonhigh patrols such as this are in part to uphold the border, but more do they represent the notion that their vigilance never falters, not for a heartbeat. In the shadows, they are safe, they are strong, and they are watching. The gesture comes with a tip from his bulky head, and with this, he finds the least offensive-looking bit of foliage to brush up against.

// @FERNDANCE @fleabounce @Willowburn @ASHENPAW @ONYXPAW ​

 

[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
Ah, finally the embrace of the night. Now his dark pelt truly came into effect as he found himself blending into the gloom with greater ease. Though every so often the moonlight caught him and illuminated his eyes and toothy grin against the shadowy backdrop. It could have been a fine walk through the night if it weren't for the sticky, thick mud that longed to clog up the spaces between his toes. Willowburn found himself going to great effort to avoid the worst of the marsh by seeking the sanctuary of whatever he could stand on, like roots, rocks, and tufts of grass. Just anything to spare him from the ick that threatened to ruin his elegant pelt.

"As you command, dear Smoggy." Willowburn cooed as he took his own route so he could lay down his first mark against the base of a sapling. Before progressing any further however he paused in order to shake his paws clean of mud and debris. If they were due to bump into any of the neighbours then he longed to look his absolute best!

- ⋆ -​

​

 

[fleabounce]

Moor-scent catches Fleabounce before she sees the boot of the highlands: it is all tufty dry grasses and burgeoning lilac. It pauses Fleabounce in her rabbit's stride, hindlegs still long behind her and one of her forepaws held gently over the mire. Then, the moment passes and Fleabounce finishes the movement as if she has never stopped, step-step-hops to mimic Smogmaw and Willowburn, who have both seemingly decided that this place was as good as any to start marking the border.

“The rabbits are asleep and safe in their burrows,” Fleabounce murmurs as she brushes her flank against a cedar. Her eyes keep glancing elsewhere, seeking the tell-tale glint of another pair across the border, “Do you think we’ll be seeing them?”​

SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR ▫ CHOCOLATE TORTOISESHELL WITH AN UNUSUALLY SHORT TAIL

LOW HEARING ▫ 85 MOONS ▫ TAGS​

■■■■■​

 

[ONYXPAW]

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH — The thick cover of night was both a comfort and torment for Onyxpaw, a unique perspective amongst most Shadowclanners. On one paw she could see the points that others were eager to make - the cover of darkness was a useful tool for them. One to be used and abused liberally in order to make sure they were all safe. On the other paw, she couldn't help but think about what could be lurking in the darkness. Terrible cats like Siltcloud and Granitepelt, those that knew the darkness as an old friend just as well as any Shadowclanner and used it to their advantage. At least the smattering of other cats around her was enough to soothe her nerves for the moment, sticking close to Ashenpaw's side as they approached the Windclan border.

She was almost disappointed when she peered over to the other side, only to not be immediately greeted by the slim forms of Windclanners standing there. Was Fleabounce right, and they were all back in camp, asleep in their nests? It seemed unlikely that a place like Windclan would ever leave their borders unprotected, especially when there was nothing but the gleaming moon in the sky to warn them of coming danger. A heavy step pulled her mostly from the muck, still keeping her bright blue eyes trained on where any Windclan warriors would end up emerging from, even as she shoved her short fur into the nearest branch. "We have to, right? I mean... it seems like a mistake for them to not send out any patrols this late. What if someone...?" She trailed off for the moment, though there was something akin to a grimace on her face. It wasn't like they were planning on sending out any war parties anytime soon, but that didn't mean other clans wouldn't take advantage.

CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ✦ IT IS KILLING YOU

• 

• 
  ✧ shorthaired tortoiseshell point and chocolate point chimera with blue eyes
  ✧ 6 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ✧ bisexual; crushing on yellowpaw
  ✧ daughter of monarchroot and sleetjaw
  ✧ shadowclan born; silently loyal to her home
  ✧ difficult to befriend; shy to most except yellowpaw
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

"ShadowClan is the only clan that patrols a night," Ferndance explained to Onyxpaw, eyes wide in the cover of darkness. Being next to WindClan's borders would have normally styled the fur at the back of her neck into rigid spikes, but the lack of light was a comfort blanket for someone who'd lived in ShadowClan as long as she had. "If someone trespasses, then I guess they all die in their sleep," the smile upon her face was wily, wanting even - she didn't like having threats to her children living so close to them. With her tail flicking towards the moonlit sky, the cinnamon tabby began to mark along the borders, rolling around them like a dog trying to get comfortable in its nest. At the end of her escapade came a big stretch, all four paws shooting in opposite directions like the stars that shone above them. Her thoughts grew vacant for a moment as she considered what she'd said, slowly picking apart what it meant. "Smogmaw..." Ferndance's voice started off quiet, eyes bearing into his soul as if she was preparing to regale him with a witticism that only she could provide. "Why did we stop getting food from the other Clans?" It wasn't the code, Stars knew that few in ShadowClan cared about that.


​

 

[Firefang]

Firefang doesn’t sleep well anymore, her dreams rattled by specters of all her regrets. Alongside the worry the allowances she’d been given would be ripped away and claws would one night be tearing at her throat. She doesn’t fear her death but neither does she desire it, if she did she would’ve died a glorious death and been remembered like her apprentice was. Instead she lives slogging through the moorlands, her paws dragging as she close in on the border. It wasn’t uncommon for her to slink out of camp to ease her mind, it was rare however for her to see any company on the empty moors. The scent of shadowclans border was one of the stronger scent; horribly musty for a cat who normally smelled flowers and fresh grass. It’s stronger tonight, mingled with freshly sprayed borders and as she comes closer she sees a patrol, hears their banter. A growl precedes her words as she comes closer, she doesn’t cross the border but she decides to come at pace with them her tail fluffed out and lashing. Her hateful gaze directs towards Smogmaw at first, it was a pity he wasn’t killed for the stunts he pulled moons back. She knows better then to try anything now, she’s outnumbered but that doesn’t mean she’s afraid if anything happens. She’s no coward - but she won’t initiate a physical fight not now.

Her gaze would flit to the cream colored she-cat whose words she’d heard most distinctly. "Tired of suckin’ on frogs and goblin’ down crowfood?" she snaps rhetorically "You’ll sooner starve then get a single morsel out of Windclan’s territory" she doesn’t pity them, she hopes they all would starve would free her clan from the blemish of sharing a border with them. "Your throat will be easier to rip out then any rabbits, sadly think your blood would taste like foxdung however!"

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  text
  

• "speech"

• 

  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 22 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[smogstar]

Smoggy. A moniker reserved solely for the lips of his beloved, not a loquacious blabbermouth. The deputy dips his head into his shoulder's crook, eyes grasped in a grimace and with a scrunch to his muzzle. Such indiscreet titles agitate him, especially since he has a superior name that merits articulating. Dew-flecked foliage rustles against his pelt and sops the fur-tips. His scent, by now, has left its indelible mark on the land, and after he rids his fur of lingering moisture through a good shake, the patrol leader gathers once more with his companions.

The shadows on the thunderpath's opposing side beckon forth silhouetted forms, though he disregards the other patrol's presence—initially. As it were, Smogmaw's sightline made a comfortable home in Ferndance, whose question took up residence in his mind. Jaws part to provide a matter-of-fact answer, but his lips suddenly guard what words he'd considered. Instead, a WindClan cat beseeches him. Inflammatory words carry on a tone edged with hostility, harsh-spitten. A rare snicker escapes the tom amidst the eruption, and he puts forward a bemused glance to his clanmates that seeks reciprocation.

WindClan held greater appeal to him when they didn't cloak their belligerence with counterfeit dignity. Authenticity is paramount in his eyes. Thus Firefang shines as a beacon of genuine character against her clan, and for that, he silently thanks her.

"Looks like someone's out of the loop," he quips dryly, smile etched deep into his mouth. Shortly thereafter, he raises his voice so as to requite the pleasantries. "And here I thought your clan was turning over a new leaf! Oh well." It would seem Sunstar's era of kindness had yet to fully take root. Throat-ripping, blood-drinking, neither suggested action implied a cordial diplomatic stance. Yet, it keeps things interesting, and Smogmaw must wonder if her rhetoric will be rejected or echoed with even greater fervour.

Oh, WindClan. Please never change. "Probably thought we had some kits with us," mouthes the tom silently. "Can't hold it against her. It's hard to let go of old habits, y'know." ​

 

[ASHENFALL]

˚₊‧ ⛧ Onyxpaw's uneasiness is nearly tangible enough to sink his paws into like the mud they trek through this lovely wind-bitten evening. It is a rare instance of grace that leaves him without comment on her lingering near his flank, recalling his childhood anxiety of venturing through the dark (along with a plethora of plenty of other fears, bears and getting eaten by one being the stand-outs). Now, he was something of a perfect Shadowclanner, in the sense that becoming The One That Lurks in the darkness has turned the night into a comfort. Besides, Siltcloud attacked him in broad daylight, he knew that daylight was only a fool's sanctuary.

The creeping self-pleased smile pulling at Ashenpaw's face mirrored his father's, and for once he was grateful for Ferndance's useless chittering as it provoked out the Windclanner's poison-spit. Liars and fakers, fakers and liars, the lot of them! There was great satisfaction to be had knowing that he was correct in his assumption that the moors still housed bloodthirsty little ticks beneath the judgment of Starclan's sky.

"I wonder if Sunstar knows he forgot to put down one of Sootstar's blood-bunnies..." He murmurs to those beside him, "All that work on grooming his reputation to still have fleas... What a shame." Ashenpaw watches Firefang with the sharp-eyed glee of a cat waiting for an adder to lunge.

YOULL ASK WHAT CAN I DO? ⭒☽⛧☾⭒ AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw
  — ftm transmasc. he/him. 12mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
  — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
  — all ic opinions!
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — pfp by meg sig by nya, fullbody by antiigone, sticker by saturnid
  — penned by eezy
  

​

 

[Firefang]

There was no such thing as an era of peace and love - if Windclan was the only clan in the forest maybe but they'd never be able to fully stop and smell the roses. Sunstar was out of his depth if he thinks the peace he was pushing and they were prospering would last, she knows it'd all turn to dung in time it always was. Not that she wasn't enjoying having a full belly and having her wounds be allowed to fully heal, but she wouldn't get used to it. Like every good thing she was handed she fought it like it was the plague, like any semblance of peace and happiness would choke her like smoke. "Turning over a new leaf? Ha!" she laughs loudly, she still remembers when Sootstar was beloved how they all followed her and dipped their heads how eager they were to put her down like a rabid dog however when things got hard. Part of her could understand another part of her would grieve over the leader and the clan she lost, she was too pathetic to be considered a successor but she still held onto the virtues and beliefs indoctrinated into her.

"Don't think we've gone soft foxhearts" she glares at the patrol her tail lashing, she sees them whispering to each other in mumbled breaths and it really really annoys her. "Pathetic as always can't even spit out your insults loudly, your clan has always been cowardly like that can't blame you. Hidin' in the dark doesn't hide the fact you're all a bunch of rats wearin' the skin of cats" she snaps, she didn't hide who she was she may hold her tongue when it came to her own clanmates but she wouldn't parade around as someone she wasn't.

She'd sooner die then sink to the level of a faker.

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  text
  

• "speech"

• 

  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 22 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

OH, WHAT IT MEANS TO BE SOMEONE ━
THAT EVERYBODY HAS TO TALK TO━​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 20 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

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Periwinklebreeze cannot sleep. it's nothing strange or new for the tom - even as a kitten, he'd struggled to fall into the land of dreams, often settling for following his mother about or joining his clanmates in the camp instead - quiet stories floating about or stargazing together in silence. Now, he finds it more comforting to wander - to escape. He held expects to stumble upon Michael yet again as he's drawn over by sounds - but no, despite his clumsy hunting attempts the tom was never so obvious nor loud in his trespassing. Not that he'd ever put a stop to it, compassion winning out at the state of the pregnant loner who could hardly feed himself let alone the little ones he seemed to be carrying (not that either of them ever brought up the topic, at least not until recently).

Still, his disappointment is undeniable as he stumbles upon the shadowclan patrol and, of all cats, firefang. It makes sense, he supposes - Michael is surely close to his due date now... he can't afford to be wandering so far. But it doesn't lessen his irritation - tail lashing as he strides forwards, paws speeding up to carrying him silently across those last few fox-lengths. " Firefang! " the name is snapped out, more hiss and bite than ever before - mismatched blue eyes sending just as much venom her way as warning. He is tired, and even on the best of days he's one mistep away from being at her throat. He wonder absently who would win this time - her, with her bravado and and biting words, or him, with starclans blessings at his back and far more experience facing death than any cat should have.

Still, he'd rather not air out his personal problems in front of shadowclan - especially not smogmaw. His animosity towards the deputy is nothing new - stars, they'd had their own little 'heart-to-heart' upon the journey where Periwinklebreeze hadn't bothered hiding his distaste and instead laid out exactly how little he thought of the snake. But he's not stupid enough to start something - not knowing that while they'd been quarreling in the mountains, windclan had stolen his kits. It disgusted him, really - he'd thought sootstar could never sink lower in his eyes than she already had, but clearly he'd been wrong.

" S-smogmaw, " he greets blandly - only a twitch of his now blind eye to show his distaste. " Surely sh-shadowclan doesn't n-need to stoop so low as to eat r-rabbits now, right? I'm sure shadowclan is th-thriving, " it's not that he disagrees with firefangs words - he hates her, certainly, but he can't say he'd be much different if he found a clan cat stealing prey - but he doesn't think shadowclan is stupid enough to do so. They like to laud themselves as being above windclan, never stooping to their level. And if they are, well, as much as he loathes her, certainly they could both put up a good fight. Still.. best not to start anything first, not when sunstar and everyone else are working so hard to forge peace.

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

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━H E━H AD━N O━O N E━T H A T━H E━C O U L D━T A L K━T O━

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[BLUEFROST]

Like her Clanmates, Bluefrost had evaded slumber. In moments of distress, she seeks solitude and finds none—across the Thunderpath, amber eyes gleam like the tails of fireflies. ShadowClan skulks at their border, their sour scent collecting like smoke in her nostrils. She remembers how dismal it had been to shelter with the mire-dwellers, and she had not forgotten the stories she’d been told about their lack of faithfulness to the warrior code. Her mother had known that, even if Sunstar wants to curry favor with the night-stalkers… but Firefang has not forgotten, that is clear. The dark-pelted she-cat snaps, her fury on full display, teeth bared to their roots as she protects what belongs to WindClan.

Bluefrost gazes at her with admiration before turning to Periwinklebreeze, their superior, who stumbles his way through a diversion. Thriving? When did the marsh cats ever thrive, unless they were gorging themselves on prey from another Clan’s territory? Bluefrost comes to stand beside her Clanmates, her green eyes luminous with starlight. “Sootstar or no Sootstar, WindClan will protect its borders,” she mews, her voice cool in the wake of Firefang’s smoldering words and Periwinklebreeze’s attempt to reconcile the situation.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 14 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

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