ALL THIS EFFORT 𓋼 prompt

The day’s patrols are being assigned, passed out to cats within the gathered crowd, and Falconheart finds himself reluctantly striding over to join them. He plans to do as he normally does, keeping quiet and hoping that his patrolmates are friendly; however, when his own name is called as the head of one of the hunting patrols, the cream tabby’s head shoots up to stare at the cat who’d spoken. "What—me?"

He takes a hesitant step backward, tail flicking behind him. Should he really be trusted to lead a patrol, even if it’s something simple like a hunting patrol? What if he does something wrong, or they don’t find any prey, and everything goes wrong and the clan suffers for it? He may be a warrior, but he’s not… he’s not a warrior! He’s only been a warrior for a short time—surely there’s been some mistake in assigning patrols. "Are you sure? I don’t think—maybe one of the older warriors should do that…" He glances around to the cats who were assigned to go on patrol with him, and hopes that the stricken expression on his face isn’t too obvious.
[ find me way out there ]
 




Barleysight looked over at Falconheart as he stressed over leading the patrol - was it his first? It seemed like it. "I think you'll do great," she said, their tone genuine even if it only showed neutral on their features. They'd attempt to bump their head against his shoulder in hopes of comfort.

She was assigned to go with him, and they'd pull back to sit on their haunches. His mother was Flamewhisker, right? "You've been on a lot of patrols, falconheart. I'm sure everything will be fine." Was she doing alright with this comfort thing? she wasn't certain, never actually having to do such for someone. They comforted themself, and got through things on their own- too nervous to actually talking to someone about it.




 

He's still getting used to it himself, standing among the crowd of warriors awaiting their patrol assignments. He no longer has a mentor to shadow, no longer has to pretend Stonepool is much of a guiding figure over him anymore. Toadhop is on his own now.

Oak-striped ears twitch as he receives his assignment, his name listed somewhere in the middle of a string of names tasked with hunting. He doesn't think of it much, until Falconheart's voice arises in questioning tones. The tom's to be leading today, he realizes, as lazuline eyes lift to look at the younger warrior. A friendly smile casts itself upon his face as he moves to greet the patrol leader.

" Lucky you, " he says. Toadhop has yet to lead his own patrol, though he's certain it'll be any day now, if Falconheart's been chosen for this one. The freckled face shares his doubts, though, and, while he doesn't move to bump his head against Falconheart's shoulder as Barleysight does, he still steps closer to encourage the warrior.

" Yeah! You'll do great. " Between hunting and the border, the brown tabby thinks the former is likely the easier to guide a patrol through — at least the warrior wasn't given something difficult for his first patrol? Even so, Falconheart is the product of a multitude of ThunderClan's council members: surely, he has plenty of patrol experience. " They wouldn't have let you lead, if they didn't think you were ready for it. " Or maybe they would, with Falconheart's parentage? Well — Toadhop thinks he'll do okay either way.
 
don't try to rush your enemies .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
As an older warrior, the thought of it bringing Oakfang the smallest of twitches at the thought of getting older. He chuckled, offering the smallest of grins at his nightmarish thoughts. To be young again. He sighed wistfully, shaking his helm. “If you don’t practice now, how else will you get better?” He commented.

One day they won’t be here to lead the way, and when that day comes, they will pass the torch to the younger ones, bright-eyed and trauma-ridden. He hummed, snow-dusted tail curling in amusement. Would you look at that? I’m turning into Whitelion. His nose wrinkled. Spiderlily hadn’t let go of the last incident, shooting off teasing words that earned a well-earned thump on the head.
thought speech
 

It was easy to be a shadow in ThunderClan, to go on patrols unnoticed, to not shake any trees or ruffle any feathers, and he sort of liked it that way. When enough cats hissed and snarled about one's upbringing, it was easy to believe that was what defined them, and the less time Pebblestep had to spend thinking about what a useless kittypet he'd once been, the more time he could spend bettering himself no matter how impossible it felt. Pebble listened calmly to the daily patrols, nodding when he heard his name and getting up onto all four paws to ask his patrol lead when they were to leave. As he walked, his large ears caught wind of a conversation, Falconheart doubting himself. "That's ridiculous, you're one of the most diplomatic cats in camp! You're so perceptive too, that means a lot when you're out there," he tried to assure his cousin without thinking, voice incredulous at how easy it was for the other to curl up like a hedgehog. He was amazing, he just didn't know how he could get the other to see it (and so the pot called the kettle black). "I'm an older warrior... but I don't think I would be able to lead my way out of camp."