after dark : kidnapping/missing [𓆟]

Twolegs were all over Riverclan territory, and even basic activities of hunting, patrolling and more were difficult. They polluted and trashed their home with little care or thought, hunting buckets of fish to the brim and scared schools of fish away with the loud monsters in the waters. Sometimes, they even wondered too far to camp and it was difficult to even ponder what would happen if they found their camp. Troutsnout grimaced at the thought of the screams and cries of her clanmates as they were possibly forcibly ripped from their homes, watching as parents and child, mates and families were separated and destroying their home. The spotted warrior found herself pacing back and forth before settling on going on a singular patrol to scout out where the twolegs were, what they were doing, any information that she could use to keep her home safe.

Long legs treaded over the territory as she founds herself stopping by a bridge as she catches a familiar sight across the Windclan border, an chambray gaze blinking unexpectedly. He always made an unexpected appearance whenever she was in distress or ever thought of her friend, and she waves a tail at him. It had been a few weeks since her last conversation with him, and they found each other at the bridge similar to that starry night sky. It wasn't the night this time, the bright rays of the sun reflecting off the waters below the bridge and dancing off flowers and leaves. Her nose felt burdened by the constant scent of twoleg with now the faint hint of Windclan, and the pair found themselves chattering on the wooden platform discussing twolegs in the distance and watching as twolegs rode on their water monsters. Her thoughts were calm and she warned Slateheart of the twolegs, in case they found themselves making way to the Windclan territory as well.

The roaring of the monsters in the water was overwhelming along with the shouts of glee from the twolegs, her ears slightly pinned. Twoleg scent was so notable on the territory now, even she wasn't expecting what would happen in the next moments. On the side of their territory, an pair of twolegs found themselves slowly creeping on the unsuspecting victims. A loud creak catches her attention and the strong scent of twoleg, her head whipping around and fear splatters across her face. " R-Run! " Trout would scream as she attempts to push Slateheart away, claws lashing out as they move similar to a viper. A sharp grip knaps her scuff and she's pinned against the ground, feeling herself being restrained as she thrashes viciously. She had to escape, she had to return to her siblings and Robinheart! Her chambray gaze is shocked with fear as she trashes loose from the grip for a moment, claws lashing out and ripping into the forearm of her perpetrator.

" Get off! Get off! "

The chocolate warrior would scream as the other twoleg opens a cage, the once loose grip firmly restraining her by the scuff and tossing her in the cage. It was dark despite the sun blistering outside, her heart beat is so loud and she can't hear anything. Her adrenaline was racing through her blood similar to a steroid, and it doesn't help as she hears the scuffle from the dark tom-cat. Was he okay? Did he escape? Her wide chambray gaze flicks through the squared gate holding her from her home, squishing herself to the back of her cage to stay as far from the twolegs and ready to dash if the cage even opened. The moments after were a blur, hearing words from the twolegs and the clattering of the carrier as black fur catches her attention. No! They got him too.

Her stomach curled as she felt a tear roll down her cheek, despair filling her blood and bones. The gate opens for a moment and she fiercely attempts to escape from her prison, a familiar shape collapsing on her and a click of a lock followed again. It was just her and Slateheart in this prison, and they huddled together near the back of the carrier as they got carried to their unexpecting destination to the twoleg campsite. Her paws shake anxiously as the scent of her home became vague and it felt they had been carried for hours.

Would they ever see home again?

There was sight of Troutsnout returning back to camp, only stray tufts of her chocolate and white stuck on the boards of the bridge. A splatter of blood from the twoleg seeps and stained the brown boards, and the faint hint of a Windclanner.

OOC disclaimer permission was given by eden & rev and retro to slate's missing thread

event fish ! burbot
 
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Twolegs are slimy, awful creatures, that Claythorn had decided she loathes. If she could pick one thing to totally destroy, to be rid-of entirely, it would be the hairless creatures that walk upon two legs, the monsters that brutalize their rivers, their home, their friends. And, of course it was her of all creatures to stumble upon the scene laden with Troutsnout's final scent, the ichor of those Troutsnout had fought against, the lingering smell of their border-mate.

She crept towards the wood. Ears were perked and mouth slightly parted to scent the scene in full. Twolegs being everywhere, her indication of what had happened wasn't easy to discern, but the fact that the scents were slowly going stale with each minute, that the threat of spring-rain wasn't far off... The scent could lead. Claythorn's head turned towards the rest of the patrol that was with them. No, it wasn't that Troutsnout had been missing for a day or two, but the fact that she stumbled upon it. "Something's wrong." She called, her voice guarded.

Claythorn stepped over the border, in the meek space between Windclan and Riverclan- the bridge. Bare, sanded wood felt peculiar to her paw pads, but she wound her way through the scene without disturbing the fur, disturbing the scents. Eyes were narrowed. "Troutsnout, and her fur. A Windclanner. Blood." Vision shifted. "The twoleg scent is thick. Do you think..." Vision swung towards whoever was with her on the patrol, hoping desperately that they hadn't arrived at the same conclusion that she had.
  • "speech"
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  • 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.

 
જ➶ Being on a patrol gives her something to do besides being annoyed and having to deal with the emotional baggage of others. Her paws are swift as she folloes after the others, taking her time to observe what is around her. Tail poised as the twoleg bridge comes into view she wrinkles her nose at the smell. The twolegs are doing a lot of excess stuff lately and ruining the sanctity of their territory in her eyes. Still at least they can still hunt and bring back some prey. She just has to keep her guard up and watch for any atray twolegs in the area. Her maw parts on a soft yawn and she almost collides with Claythorn when she stops and says something is wrong. Huh? Peeking around her malevolent gaze narrows on the scene. As the other moves around the scene her own gaze widen slightly with her own comprehension and then the unspoken conclusion. "Twolegs got her..." Her voice is hushed as she speaks.

Quiet but there is a thinly contained glee. Pushed down back against her heart. Troutsnout is gone which means that Magpiepaw only has her now. She can comfort them when she has to tell them of their sister's idiocy. Of being out here alone with all the twoleg activity going on. But what of the Windclan scent? She doesn't care. It's low on her priorities right now. "We need to tell Lichen." She needs to tell Magpie.
 
WATCHING YOUR
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frecklepaw & 08 moons & trans. fem & she/they/it & riverclan apprentice
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Its not like her sister, Frecklepaw thinks, to leave without her. To do things without her. But more and more, Troutsnout spends time with others; and while she loves that her sister seems happier and healthier (no longer fearing her wasting away) she hates that it means theres less time for her.

She shouldve been there with her - shouldve gone with her sister, to do whatever it was Troutsnout had needed to do here. But she hadnt. Mismatched eyes stare blankly at the scene, limbs quivering beneath silver speckled frame.

'Its happening again,' she thinks, eyes wide and lips wobbling. Her family is leaving her behind again. Eyes water and she sniffles, refusing to cry -she... she needs to leave. She needs to go find Magpiepaw, or maybe Kestrelpaw, or or- well, go be anywhere but here.

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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TAGS — It's times like these that Ospreypaw marvels at the existence of kittypets. How in the good green earth some cats see fit to give in to their slothful sin, she isn't sure. The twolegs not only encroach on their territory, but they pollute their river; spoil their fish; endanger RiverClan with their dogs and their kits and their traps. To be an accomplice to all of that on top of being a sloth and a glutton sounds like the pinnacle of pathetic.

Blue-laced figure stalks close behind Midnightpaw. She's grateful to be on a patrol like this with another friend, especially when in the presence of RiverClan's less-desirables. She watches Claythorn amble ahead through narrowly-slitted wedges of lemon-yellow, bored by the patrol more than anything. Cindersong would likely scold her if the molly were able to tell that Ospreypaw didn't have her heart quite in this work. She doesn't want to be just a good swimmer, but StarClan, just patrolling is boring, and more than that, it's dangerous with all the twolegs around. They fester at the edges of her senses, always out of reach but never gone completely. She can smell them so clearly now, it's stifling any prey or clan scent she might otherwise pick up. Acrid smoke, sour bug spray, nauseating sunscreen; of course, she knows not what these things are, but they coat her salmon-pink tongue all the same. It's going to take days to wash the taste away.

The patrol stutters to a stop. Ospreypaw snaps back to attention with a flick of her nicked ear. ...A WindClanner? Sure, they're at the moor-rats' border, but should their scent go entirely discounted even with the thick stench of twolegs about? Cindersong apparently doesn't see fit to say anything, but her apprentice does: "How fresh is the WindClan scent? Maybe they took her," Ospreypaw suggests, whip-thin tail lashing. Even with Sootstar gone, there's no telling whether Sunstar was any better than the devilish blue smoke. How could they be sure that RiverClan warriors wouldn't get snatched away to the moors? "It's worth investigating."

The narrowed gaze cuts to Midnightpaw, then to Frecklepaw. Her peers seem to have mixed reactions to the news — Ospreypaw herself is concerned for Troutsnout's disappearance. The maplebark warrior did more than her fair share of work around RiverClan, and this whole scenario stinks of foul play. At the wobbling lip of Frecklepaw, Ospreypaw straightens her posture. Keep it together, her mind chastises, but a tiny part of her tries to be empathetic. If she lost her mother, she supposes she would feel similarly. The silver-knit apprentice touches her pink nose to the girl's ear in a rare display of gentle kindness. "We'll find her," she murmurs, and they will, but not in any twoleg trap, she's convinced.
 
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Midnightpaw says what she's thinking. Vision sweeps towards the border once more- three apprentices and their mentors, and Claythorn. Enough for an infiltration to question that of Windclan, but her gut tells her otherwise- tells her that it was a twoleg, and not that of a Windclanner. A single Windclanner could not remove a well trained Riverclanner if they even tried. She exhaled hotly.

Between a rock and a hard place, Claythorn turns back towards the patrol after a long time of deliberation. "A single Windclanner? No. The twoleg scent that's just as fresh, if not a hint more then both clan scents? Yes." She speaks with no loss of confidence, directly to Ospreypaw. Vision shifted to that of Frecklepaw, and she swallowed her doubts. Claythorn may not have been the leader on this patrol, but weary paws decided to head straight for camp. Lichenstar did need to know, either way.

And at that thought, Claythorn did not envy that of their leader still. She couldn't imagine being in her place- where Smokestar had died, and now Lichenstar stood, cats being snatched left and right. A sharp inhale, and she was heading back for camp, no words of comfort offered.
  • // out and back to camp!! will post return thread momentarily

    "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.

 

-ˋˏ ༻✧༺ ˎˊ- carawaypaw's legs seemed to still as the odd mix of scents filled her nose. it was just as claythorn had astutely pinpointed. 'troutsnout, and her fur. a windclanner. blood.' the tabby's nose screwed in distaste. if midnightpaw's speculation were true, what would have compelled the twolegs to do so? what purpose did a riverclan warrior serve them?

the dark stripe along her spine prickled, her blood morphing to lead in her veins. what if they came back? suddenly, she was uneasy at the border, paws shifting in tandem with her nervous gaze. claythorn quickly determined she would head back to camp, what about the rest of them? her anxieties were overshadowed by her denmate's as she finally settled on frecklepaw. ospreypaw worked to comfort her, carawaypaw was moving towards the other apprentice before she knew it.

"ospreypaw's right, it'll be okay." she did her best not to waver but she couldn't stop her mind from trailing to how she may react in such a situation. carawaypaw was not so naive to think she could stop something like this from happening to her family, all that was left was to pray to starclan that the twolegs did not take another. dark ears tilted at the thought, she shook her fur as to rid herself of it. with claythorn gone, she glanced to other warriors present for further instruction.
  • OOC //

  • CARAWAYPAW she/her, apprentice of riverclan, 10 ☾'s
    carawaypaw is a pretty longhaired silver tabby with green eyes and a tall, lithe frame.
    willowroot x poppysplash ↛ sister to bumblepaw, minnowpaw, mosspool, and hazewish
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    penned by vayle@vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.