AND WHEREVER THE STORM MAY BLOW \ thunderclan patrol

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

It’s an unusually cool dusk, even for this early in the greenleaf season. A core of orange sinks under twilight violets, giving the broad-shouldered tabby a golden aura. The river sweeps gently against the bank. Raccoonstripe’s jaw is parted, both for prey and for RiverClan scents. “ @Moonpaw , do you remember the boar scent? Is there anything fresh here?” He looks to his other charge, @Brackenpaw . “Pay attention. We know the damage they can do even to a seasoned warrior,” he murmurs, his eyes flashing with barely-concealed emotion.

RiverClan may gather on the banks, but for once, Raccoonstripe is not interested in their banter. ThunderClan has suffered again from predators, first the dogs RiverClan refused to deal with on their own territory, and now boars that have stolen his brother from him.

He sighs, bitter, and turns to look at @FINCHCATCHER and @Spotflare over his shoulder. “We shouldn’t linger too long. Moving targets are harder to kill.”
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Spotflare [in.]]

---

Raccoonstripe's handling this far better than I'd have expected, Spotflare muses to himself internally, eyes furrowed in concern for his clanmate. Graystorm's unfortunate death took a heavy toll on most of the clan, serving as both a heavy blanket of grief over the rest of his family and as a warning to those who got too close to the boars. He hadn't known him very well or for very long, not like Raccoonstripe and his other siblings, but he had an inkling of what it felt like, having lost his own brother a long, long time ago.

"Understood. Those boars would have likely scared off much prey, so lingering too close to them wouldn't be a great idea when we're looking for prey, but I've heard of birds going after the food they leave behind. If we can find their mess, hopefully we can also find other creatures looking to scavenge whatever's been left behind. Assuming, they aren't close to the bloody beasts," Spotflare limps forward, head hanging low as he eyes their surroundings warily.
The last thing they need is another confrontation... and another unfortunate death.​

---

IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN​

 

[RAVENSONG]

ThunderClan hits his senses instead of the scent of herb he was tracking down for Beesong. Ravenpaw diverted from his path, keeping in mind to not stray too far from his mentor as he tracked down the stench of the territory-stealers. Sunningrocks is still quite the sore point, and he knows that with Cicadastar's rampant paranoia, some retaliation is due at any moment.

It's not his fight, though, Ravenpaw remembers with a sigh. The bloodied bodies of Petalnose and Wolfglade come to mind. Since its not his job to start anything, Ravenpaw watches from his side of the river-border, hidden among the reeds. He would stay and watch them for a bit before grabbing a smooth pebble in his jaws and tossing it into the river. The splash would certainly not startle them into a fright, but at least he could leave some mark of his presence behind—that even he would not forget.

​

 

[hazecloud]

Proudly living by her namesake, Hazecloud's steps were gentle and near soundless as she trailed behind Ravenpaw. Dutifully she had been a willing escort, thought she couldn't imagine who would want to attack some medicine cats. She did enjoy the company they provided, though, mostly keeping quiet and to herself while idly listening. She didn't know much about any of the herbs that were passed about in conversation, but she nodded her head as if she knew every bit.

After joining in for the search for an herb she immediately forgot the name of, Hazecloud searched for any plant with the description given. After pulling some tussocks and small stones away, she turned to Ravenpaw for more help when she saw he was no longer behind her. The following scent of ThunderClan kept her from calling out for the apprentice. Instead, she quietly followed, noticed the flicking tail-tip of Ravenpaw outside a patch of stalks. She joined beside him in paired silence, looking between him and the ThunderClan cats quizzically.

What are they talking about?​

 

[Brackenpaw]

The last few days, Brackenpaw had been very silent during his duties. The news of the boars had silently drew a cold blade through the delicate muscle of his heart, a chilling fear that kept his paws near numb as if stepping in ice water for too long. Since Boulderdream had retired, the young apprentice had been assigned to Raccoonstripe, taken in as a second apprentice to Moonpaw. He hadn't particularly interacted with the quiet tortoiseshell, but with the sour look she had given him when finding out about his reassignment, he didn't much care to. He was here for training and nothing else, hoping for Raccoonstripe to mold him into the warrior he desired. He always liked the dark tom, even aspired to be like him with his ambitious ways. Though with his swooning over the molly's within the clan he could do without. He held no need for such things, his only focus was ascending through the ranks and keeping ThunderClan amidst the top over the other clans.
In his whirling thoughts, the pale tabby had been following along his newly named mentor in their patrol towards the river. The sun casts a golden show, haloing his own frame in a shade of blazing orange that practically had his cream pelt glowing as he moved along the fronds. The sound of rippling water drew near, hungrily lapping at the shoreline and the volatile stench of sodden soil and fish permeated his nose. He curls his lip in disgust, glacial eyes scanning across the way for any sign of the fish-dwellers. It is then that his mentor's sharp bark bounces him back to reality, a narrowed gaze flitting to the larger warrior in annoyance. Since Graystorm's passing, Raccoonstripe had been on edge even more and it is why Brackenpaw bites back a snide comment out of respect for the dead. He sighs harshly, nodding that he understood him. "It's hard to make it out over this rancid smell of fish." He mutters, more to himself though it is clear to the others. The apprentice then moves along the stones, spraying his scent to the flat surface.
​

[ YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR KID ]​

 

[PIKESPLASH]

( tags ) The river has a competitor and it's the wind. Normally he is accustomed to the river's roars, but the wind has started howling as of late. They had hoped the wind would have died down, or at worst a storm would pass and it would be over. No rain has fallen, yet the wind howls. He thinks about the recent fight Riverclan had against Windclan and won. A boost of morale. However, it seems like the wind was fighting with the river over whose presence was the most important. Hunting was made challenging as a result, the fish were just as rattled as he was about the weather it seems. I hope our dens will hold up. We just returned to our main camp not too long ago. It would make everyone upset if they were blown away and we had to move back to the beech corpse.

Thunderclan's scent had been blown over, and he finds sizable group talking amongst each other. He frankly is less concerned at the moment about pride or Cicadastar's demands to be cruel at the thieves (Thunderclanners). His ears flick at the sound of a pebble being thrown and he recalls that Ravenpaw would be around with an escort. The sound is not meant to be a threat, it is simply a reminder to the forest dwellers that they are present. Green hues take in the forms of the Thunderclanners. Two appear to be older and the other two are either young warriors or apprentices. Something must be going on with them.

He can't place his claw on what seems to be the matter, but something feels off about Thunderclan. Against his better judgement he slowly pads over to the group, taking extra care in not passing their scent markers. The images of his bloodied friends decide to pierce his mind, it still screams to know who had laid their claws on them. However, when he takes in the sight of Moonpaw... He is reminded of his own apprentice and what had transpired not too long ago. Whatever the Thunderclanners are going through is none of his business, but they share the same goals. All they desire is to protect themselves and he doesn't want to think about what would happen if he said nothing.

"Excuse me?" These are not his clanmates and he is trying to not be rude towards the Thunderclanners. He isn't even sure if they'll listen to him given the feud between their clans. "I'm not going to start anything, I'll make it quick." Pike waits for a moment, green eyes taking in the forest dwellers. Unsure of how he should proceed, he decides to just go for it. "Be careful of badger dens. Our clans are close to each other and we found one recently, so I'd wager there's some in your territory around this area. The wind is picking up, whatever it is your doing be mindful of the trees." Perhaps it is odd for him to be telling them such things. A Riverclanner telling them to be careful? Warning them of badger dens? Giving them a slight report? Not even a snide comment to boot?

With that he turns to face the river, his own clan territory. Pike gives the Thunderclan one last glance. "Good luck," he mewls to the patrol. And so, he begins walking back to where he'd been attempting to hunt. What should I try to catch today? Actually, let's see if anything will stay still long enough.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Spotflare’s acknowledgment causes Raccoonstripe’s ear to flick. “I wonder if they leave crowfood behind or if they eat it all.” The idea of somehow using the beasts to their advantage intrigues him, but the forefront of his mind is still clouded with grief and rage at the unholy beasts who’ve ravaged his territory and killed his brother. He can see a RiverClan patrol gathering at the banks of their boundary, and though there’s still waves of hostility coming off of them, they don’t instigate. Not this time.

The tabby snorts with mild amusement at Brackenpaw’s sullen response to his directive. “It’s true. That, and the stench of the boars.” He prepares to lead his patrol away when a shout comes from across the water. A striped gray warrior stands at the river’s edge, and the lead warrior prepares to bite back in response—but he’s left staring in surprise instead. The RiverClan cat tells them to be mindful of badgers, possibly having crossed into their territory. Raccoonstripe is so startled that he doesn’t know what to say for a moment—but when he decides on something, it’s swift and assured.

“Thank you for the warning.” He blinks, tail swishing behind him. “There are other beasts your Clan should watch for. Keep your senses sharp.” He will not reveal his Clan’s weakness, but he wants no cat to suffer the fate his brother did—not even a RiverClanner.
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[FINCHCATCHER]

If the strained relationship between Thunder and River wasn't bad enough, Finchcatcher has to be wary of boars now, too. The scarred warrior follows behind his patrol, a yellow-green gaze scanning the area as he walks.

His shoulder aches today, but he urges himself to move forward. Moving targets are harder to kill, Raccoonstripe says, and Finchcatcher can't help the twinge of sorrow he feels for the lead warrior. A lost brother. The flame-furred ThunderClanner can't imagine the pain, can't imagine having to hear the news of his own brother's death.

And he doesn't want such news shared to Cosmosbloom either, so Finchcatcher pushes onward.

He is quiet as they near the border, opting to get to work so that they can return home as quickly as possible. It's hard to believe there was once a time when ThunderClan and RiverClan were more harmonious with one another - a time when the river-walkers let oak-dwellers take refuge on their land. It's merely a broken song now, the air thick with tension as RiverClan nears.

"Greetings," Finchcatcher says with a curt nod of acknowledgement. The scarred warrior doesn't want trouble, and it seems no one else does either. I'll make it quick, one of the river's warriors chirps, sharing news of more beasts afoot. Badgers.

Oh stars, couldn't they just have a break? Finchcatcher listens as Raccoonstripe shares the news of their own beasts - vaguely, but enough to warn the enemy clan. He supposes it's plenty - a tragedy like Graystorm's shouldn't be shared, shouldn't be replicated.
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