A FACT OF LIFE [ herb patrol 𓆟 return ]

[claythorn]

History has a funny way of repeating itself, though Claythorn didn't find any of this funny- in fact, she quite loathed showing up time and time again with bad news on her heels, with the grim look on her face. First, it was Troutsnout, her daughters distressed and quite understandably worried and upset. Now, it would be Moonbeam- Claythorn felt guilty she didn't even know if she had a family, but she knew that Beepaw was close to Moonbeam. She knew that.

Even more then that, Riverclan was Moonbeam's family, her friends, the ones she protected with healing. Claythorn was distressed herself, this time around. She had stolen ahead of Lakemoon, itching to get the news to Lichenstar, to ensure that something started to be done. Searching or attacking or what not. The burning irritation, anger at herself for letting it happen, anger at the beasts on two legs. Claythorn fought the urge to turn and sink her fangs into something in favor of getting this news, like the news before, to the right people.

Only a pawful of days ago did Claythorn find her way into the camp, and this time, she was a hint more sudden about it. The first time stung- the second time ached, deeply. ".. We need Lichenstar. Where is she?" Claythorn called, glancing back towards Lakemoon and Bronzeshine.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  
  *cracks knuckles*
  pinging for members of last thread and @lichenstar ; @LAKEMOON @BRONZESHINE
  continuation of this thread
  congrats it's a bingo thread, have a sturgeon
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no current love interest / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[EVENINGPAW]

"Again?"

Eveningkit had almost expected to hear the echo of a previous day coming from Claythorn before she enters camp. That frown that sits on her face like it's stuck there has definitely gotten engraved into Eveningkit's mind, so much so that the vibrant warrior always wears it whenever she thinks of her.

Back when she was still called Claypaw, Eveningkit had thought it to be amusing yet unnecessary. Now... with everything that's been happening? Not even a kitten like herself could fault Claythorn for it.

Who's gone now? The questions sits at the forefront of Eveningkit's mind, demanding attention. It'd be so easy to bounce up to Claythorn and repeat it aloud, but the situation seems grave enough that she suspects nobody will get a proper answer until Lichenstar's here. So, Eveningkit does what she does best. She yells. "MOOOM!"
​

 

[HORIZONPAW [transferred]]

Horizonkit's head pops out from the cover of sedge, gaze shining with nursery greenery. He silently steps out to stand near Eveningkit, long tail held low and cautious. "She's the one who asked about her last time too, right?" he whispers. The kit sends his sister a glance before returning to the mud-patched warrior. Eveningkit's frown, already a rare sight, is nowhere near as severe as the one marring the tortoiseshell's terrifying visage. She looks upset, he thinks. They all do.

The silver bundle at his side immediately leaps up to call for their mother, and he follows her shout towards where he thinks she might be. Smokestar's den, naturally, but their mother sleeps in it now. It was fitting, it made sense, the everything, yet her lack of -tail bothered him still. Should she come now, it would only be by one of her proper names ("Mom") and not this new one everyone and StarClan suddenly decided to give her. No, well, he knows why. It didn't mean he had to like it.

"What happened?" Another hushed question. "Did the Twolegs take someone else?" It had to be. He's already forgotten the name of the warrior a quarter-moon ago, but the event was the talk of camp far longer than the warrior had ever been. Horizonkit cares, sort of. Mostly he just hates seeing everyone so upset, and so busy.

riverclan kit | "speech." | tags​

​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Foxtail sat outside of the warrior's den, grooming his long fur when Claythorn burst into camp. He looks up from grooming his paw as the younger warrior makes her way into camp, with Lakemoon and Bronzeshine following behind her. He blinks as he looks at the patrol, and his ears prick as Claythorn calls out; asking where Lichenstar is. Just by glancing over at the chocolate torbie, he can easily see the anger blazing in her eyes. He can hear the way her voice sounds frustrated.... and how urgent her words are. Foxtail rises to his paws and pads over, as he notices a missing party member from the patrol.

Weren't those three assigned to accompany Moonbeam on a herb patrol?

"...Why isn't Moonbeam with you?" He asks as he approaches Claythorn, his tail swishing lowly behind him with concern. But Foxtail already has a gut feeling swirling around.... Moonbeam was stolen, wasn't she? Why else would Claythorn be demanding for Lichenstar, without the medicine cat who's supposed to be leading that patrol? His stomach twists in knots, and hisis ears miss the whisper Horizonkit whispers to his littermate. Though he barely holds back a flinch as Eveningkit's yowl reaches his ears, for such a small kit she's loud. "I-I'll check her den," He volunteers as his olive green eyes are filled with worry. With a flick of an ear, the young warrior races over to the leader's den, hoping that Lichenstar is inside.​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

• fetching lichenstar!
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: [HYPERLINK]
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to kabliahk via insta for the chibi <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  19 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[DIZZYPAW]

"FATE IS A SUNDRESS" ˚୭ .ೃ⁀➷ tags ── CLAYTHORN BURSTS INTO camp - a rush of thunder and lightning reads her demeanor. Dizzypaw finds herself sitting up in her spot to hang onto any whisper of anything - a request of Lichenstar, Eveningkit's cry for her mama, Foxtail's whipping past her to check for the aforementioned leader. A more urgent and worrisome rehash of the events from several days prior.

Something's wrong. Deep down in Dizzypaw's bones does she know that something is amiss here. It's not been long since Claythorn ripped through camp with the unfortunate news that Troutsnout was missing - it feels like moments ago, though it's been days at this point. Hurt settles in her heart for Troutsnout's siblings, and Dizzypaw isn't sure she has much more to give. She can hope to be wrong; she knows she isn't.

It hits Dizzypaw, suddenly, that Foxtail is right: the patrol is missing Moonbeam. She stifles a gasp and whips her head to follow Foxtail's trail to seek out Lichenstar. She may not understand the depth of it, but she does know that missing Moonbeam entirely is a very, very bad sign.

Dizzypaw tries to pull her mind away from it. She refocuses her attention upon Claythorn and her patrol, now: "Is everything alright?" she finds herself asking. She knows it's futile, but if she can offer anything, she will.​

​

 

[shellpaw]

her mind tracks conversation like stars overhead, ties them together with stardust like constellations so they may look prettier than they make her feel. her siblings emerge first to the sound of claythorn's call ; the same tone, the same raised hackles, the same call for lichenstar as if even the kits themselves couldn't tell something was wrong. swan silent pawsteps bring her close to where horizonkit and eveningkit pry themselves from the nursery, the latter giving a cry out for their spine - cracked leader and shellpaw can only feel guilt for it further. more trouble, more misfortune, more misery to sully the new leader's paws and drench her soul further into rigid despair. foxtail asks where's moonbeam, and phantom pains riot up her chest, inflame lungs grown cool and calm with the aide of windclan's mint. she cant breathe, suddenly ; a low - simmering fear boiling down the lengths of pulsing rabbit veins and sending puffs of too hot breath from a fear gaped maw.

to be without a medicine cat.. what would they do? her chest heaves, panic driven, what would she do? worse yet.. what if they hurt her? moonbeam, aura - lit and soft - eyed.. what would a twoleg want with her? the girl sniffs as if on cue and this time, she says nothing to the returning patrol. she simply stares at claythorn and takes the few steps closer to her siblings, tucks the thick of her dove - toned tail around horizonkit for more her own sake than his. did the twolegs take someone else, he'd whispered, and shellpaw feels the sharp points of her fangs dip gingerly into her lip in lieu of response. what could she say? they could only wait for their mother to arrive, her presence a receptacle of disaster, an end to an end. foxtail moves to retrieve her but the point is drawn to the reek of misfortune light moth to flame. the apprentice only closes her eyes tight, tucks her nose into the petal - laden bulk of her chest, prays it could take the strain of cruel anticipation from her blood.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
• 
• 
  
  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Paws rush like a stampede of fearful deer towards a gnarled willow adorned in spring-soft leaves... but it is a den that rings of curses and death and forgetting those lost... and ultimately, she has refused to enter it at all. There is a fear that wells up in her belly anytime she stands at its entrance, a worry that she'll step inside and Smokestar's scent will be long gone. That the remnants of him that lay rested in his mossy bedding will be all but vanished...
  
  So the deer crowd the lush greenery with bleating calls into a hollow- stripe-adorned fur instead reveals itself from the shallow waters behind the medicine cat's den... they are warmed by the sun, thin enough not to soak her coat completely but enough to cool the burning of a bruised heart. Of aching limbs that have spent too many days wandering far and wide for answers of different kinds. The water dibbles down knotted tufts, leaves a trail of the water banshee's steps where they round the corner with eyes narrowed to block out the harshness of the sun's rays.
  
  "Leave.. that den alone," they grumble in sharp frustration, a protectiveness for its preservation that grows sullied by attempts to search for them there. Crystalline gaze falls upon a shrill fledgling, its softness a dedicated effort rather than something that comes naturally. "Little dove... I'm right here."
  
  But it isn't for want of their mother that her children cry and sit fearfully in a puddle... it's because Claythorn has summoned her. Again. With the same bitter scowl and the same air of infuriated frustration. "It's happened... again?" Because there is no more writing this off as happenstance, not after she'd nearly be caught herself... not after losing Turtlepaw from right under her nose.
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　​

​

 

[claythorn]

Lichenstar's young are the one to approach her first- it was tiring, she knew. Having to hear Claythorn announce this twice in a pawful of days- and it was equally as tiring for Claythorn to say it. She didn't want to keep having to say it. The way her chest ached at the thought of more and more of them going. She twitched her ear in response to either kits- however, Foxtail finally causes her pointed gaze to shift onto him.

She inhaled deeply, ears flattening in response to his statement. He races away to find her, Dizzypaw on his heels after a small gasp. But she waits- she does not reveal, her words would be for Lichenstar first and foremost, even though it was plainly obvious why she called. And finally it's the cat she wants- but Claythorn does not relax or trip over her own paws. Mismatched golds stared forward for a long moment, before her head nodded. "Yes. Moonbeam."

Her words solidify a fate that is unavoidable, whether she had told or not. It leaves them without their safety net, or anyone to heal them. It leaves a gaping wound of a round white pelted she-cat, one who had kept all of them safe with her knowledge. Claythorn bites down upon her cheek as she delivers the news, for it was the only way to keep her rooted here and not on some suicide mission trying to retrieve her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no current love interest / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[salmonshade]

Twolegs run rampant these days and it seems everywhere Salmon looks it seems there are traps everywhere... Here, and there, and she even helped Lichenstar out from one- but Stars it still shakes her when a patrol returns calling for Lichen themself. Salmon looks up from where she's trying to groom out her mane.

It's happened again? Lichenstar asks. Yes. Moonbeam. Claythorn responds in return.

Sharp inhale. She begins to grow sick, her stomach churning, her chest tightening. Dread begins to settle in the depths of her mind, in her stomach, rising stress makes her shoulders ache. Moonbeam can't be gone. Without a medicine cat, what are they going to do? Even in Ravensongs absence they at least had an apprentice. And this is Moonbeam they're talking about... Some sort of selfish thing in her wants to storm out of the camp and go look for her herself. How could you let this happen! Her mind screams as she levels Claythorn and the rest of the patrol with a blank stare. She knows its not their fault, but Moonbeam... She held a special place in the mollies heart and so she speaks up, "Can we go look?" she keeps her voice calm despite the inner storm that works within her as she turns to look at Lichenstar. "There has to be clues on where they took her." and maybe, just maybe shes grasping at strings that are slipping through her paws...

𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ଳ⋆｡˚ 𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚁

• 
  ❥ salmon ,, salmonshade
  ❥ cis female ,, she/her ,, 39 months
  ❥ warrior of riverclan ,, mentoring riverpaw
  ❥ fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, fd9367" ,, thoughts
  ❥ lesbian ,, single
  ❥ smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  ❥ chibi by pin ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[BRONZESHINE]

♡​♡ why you so obsessed with me ♡♡​

---

bronzeshine & 27 moons & female & she/her & riverclan warrior​

---

Bronzeshine wasn't exactly stranger to strange and unsettling things happening. That was just how clan life was. But to have the cat you were meant to protect stolen from under your nose without even a moment's hesitation...

Claythorn taking the lead was probably for the best. Bronzeshine was not known for her tact. Or general showing of empathy. The far off look on her face was uncharacteristic. For a female so confident and brash, the subdued and shocked look about her was telling how she was taking the whole thing.

— boy i wanna know ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  
  
• 
  — sassy | flirty | proud | vain | irascible
  cis/het
  ages on the 15th
  
  — physically moderate && mentally moderate
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please tag account if attacking

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• This bodes incredibly ill for RiverClan... the moment Claythorn confirms the alabaster absence it shakes through her to her core. There are still... apprentices in the medicine cat's den, in need of her care. There might be others who fight battles with Twolegs, that fight their traps and may need her aid to recover grievous wounds. This is a deadly misstep... and one they must navigate with extreme caution.
  
  Her heart leaps from her chest the moment a familiar sun-rise cry urges them to search... she knows the ache in that thinly crackling voice, to watch your former apprentice stumble and fall and knowing there is nothing to be done to save them. The vain need to do something... anything. Brookstorm's presence lingers with her, only in the suffocating, fluttering feeling of the world crashing apart. What would she have said... between a heavy frown and a flattening of curled ears?
  
  "Salmonshade..." she murmurs, voice honeyed with sympathy, "They... wouldn't be here... if they could've... traced her." Which is to say... they tried. And were left wanting. She shakes her head, a small sigh tumbling past grief-torn lips, lost for how they can fix this. "I'll.... send out more patrols... We'll check the... grounds south of here..."
  
  Where the fires had glimmered in the distance... the Twolegs nested there. Maybe it would be the location of some of their captives.
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　​

​

 

[HORIZONPAW [transferred]]

Like winter fog steaming from the glass of a lake, voices rise around them. Foxtail gives away the charade: Moonbeam. The medicine cat? He turns to Eveningkit, another senseless question rounding his lips, when a peach-fluff tail slips around him. At first he think it's Hazecloud, but when he glances back, he's greeted by the pale umber eyes of Shellpaw. She's not looking at him. She's not looking at anyone. Worry bubbles in his pale chest; it drifts into the back of his mouth and deposits a sour taste.

"Little dove..." Finally, finally, Lichenstar is here. With a storm tucked between her teeth, she addresses the ginger warrior, whose chilled reply seems to knock everyone a step backwards. A sharp breath from another cat turns one of his stubby ears. Another simply blanks, as though the news had blown all trace of expression from her face. The worry grows wings, hatches into anxiety, fluttering all around in his throat and sipping up what little he had to say about it.

His mother turns to one of the warriors, a more familiar expression replacing the darkness she wore. He doesn't quite understand, but he knows she must be found. They've told him Shellpaw's once-captor, warden of the herbal-scented prison she'd once been held in, was actually a good thing for her. The gravity of Moonbeam's position was too large to miss. Horizonkit sneaks a wide-eyed glance towards Eveningkit, an idea molding itself in his brain. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? She's always been so good at plans, and it seems like RiverClan needed every paw available to help find their medicine cat.

riverclan kit | "speech." | tags​

​

 

[Frecklepaw.]

WATCHING YOUR
PRETTY SMILE SO WARM​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

frecklepaw & 08 moons & trans. fem & she/they/it & riverclan apprentice ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

'It's happened again' lichenstar says, and its enough to draw Frecklepaws attention - have mismatched eyes landing upon the sullen patrol as they speak. Her sister is gone - missing, along with assumedly a windclanner. And now they've lost moonbeam, their medicine cat. A quiet huff of breath leaves her lips as she frowns, swallowing woodenly. Is no one safe from the whims of these twolegs? How many more will disappear before their troubles are over. How many more will they lose? " I... hope she's okay, " comes quiet murmur - more to herself than any one cat. She hopes they all are.

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

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I ━ L O S E ━ M Y ━ C O O L , ━ W H E N ━ I ━ G E T ━ E M O T I O N A L

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