private AND YOU WILL NEVER KNOW ME ⁀➷ lichentail

[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ Foxglare made a habit of hunting farther away from camp nowadays. Since his promotion to warriorhood—and before then, too, when Shalestripe was feeling particularly permissive with how his apprentice spent his free time—Foxglare had always been fond of his solo patrols. Maybe he could blame his lonely upbringing for his asocial habits, but solitude proved a reliable friend in a place like Windclan, where idle words could get you claws in your pelt faster than you could say 'hare.'

Hare hunting was his current mission, the sun dipped low in the sky, the early nightfall of near-leafbare fast approaching. Foxglare was far from the quickest of Windclan's moor-runners, such that he may have only been able to thank the grace of the stars for the catches he was able to run down. It was not often that the young warrior was caught unawares, he had his vigilance to thank for many a close call with twolegs, angry cats, dogs, and the like. But today proved to be an exception. With prey running scarcer than ever, and Sootstar's insistence on daring every other clan in the forest to go to war with them, it was difficult not to wonder just how many cats would be left to be called "Windclan" by the time Newleaf arrived. It didn't look promising, this was for certain.

A rabbit burst from its cover suddenly, and Foxglare tore after it without another thought, intent on bringing back something to fill the bellies of his clanmates—if that was all he could truly do, at this point. A sudden wall of scent hit his nostrils, and it would be half a second too late before he planted his paws to a hard stop, claws scraping the hard stone of the bridge's edge and leaping back toward Windclan territory. "Shit!" he hissed to himself as the rabbit scampered over the twoleg bridge toward Riverclan territory. Foxglare kicked himself, he had to be some kind of idiot, passing paws over the border like a hardly-weaned apprentice while he internally condemned the Moor Queens land grabs. He kept his ears pricked for signs of angry Riverclan cats lurking in the reeds, huffing.

ALL IN ALL ⁀➷☾⁺₊ IS ALL WE ARE

• OOC: @lichentail
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 12mo warrior of windclan
  — a large, scarred, medium-haired golden tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — hs by mercurial, fullbody by antiigone
  — penned by eezy

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Yes, Smokestar had said not to leave camp unattended. Yes, Lichentail took that seriously, especially where WindClan was concerned. However... in this one moment, she is more than glad that her apprentices had hared off nearby to catch something they'd heard scuttling about. Land hunting wasn't really their forte... it bought her plenty of time to inspect the border just to be sure nothing sinister was happening. Moving along the foliage, weaving through the shadows the reeds cast like tabby markings along her points... this felt all too familiar. It made the fur on her haunches stand on end, wondering if she might see a pair of wild, sun-crazed eyes. Wondering if she'd make good on that promise... that Lichentail would always be a bird hunted after by dirt-crusted claws.

Her tail lashes quickly, agitated, worried. But the soft humming of the earth under-paw screams of danger, yowling a presence nearby. She crouches hurriedly, slinking against the tall leaves where she might be better obscured... and a flash of white darts off not far ahead. Her ears prick forward, eyes widening slightly at the surprise bounty- a rabbit? On this side of the bridge? It was a little faster than her usual type... but equally evasive as birds that could flee to the sky.

Darting through the undergrowth for a shot at such a catch... it could easily make up for the fish Dipperpaw had lost with her distracted daydreaming- and as teeth lock onto the back of its neck, a hissing nearby suggests a story she hadn't considered. Rabbits did not really wander into RiverClan... Picking up the dead prey with a small sigh, the lynx point trekked back towards the gorge with eyes narrowed. She certainly expected to see a WindClanner, one she'd be happy to gloat at for her success where they had failed.

The eyes that stared back felt like seeing her again... She thinks briefly, of the last time she'd encountered this particular moor runner, one of the very few that had held up their word to help the other clans retake their camps. He had been a help... and if only for that reason, for the life he had helped to spare, would she hold her biting remarks.

"Careful," she chides, dropping the prey on the ground before checking behind her for any silver-furred mollies who might come play 'rescue' for their mentor. One heartbeat... two.... it remains silent. Turning back to Foxglare, her lips thin akin to a frown. "This yours?"

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WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

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[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ While he held some resentment at the stickiness of his title as "outsider", Foxglare was often reminded of how different life in the Twolegplace was from life within the Clans. The cats that lived between the twoleg dens, amongst the stink of carrion and sleeping monsters, claimed no allegiance to anything outside of themselves, and perhaps their closest few friends and kin if one was the sentimental sort. During the dark days of Leafbare, food was difficult to come by, but scuffles were unfortunately commonplace, and necessary if one was to avoid being pushed out into starvation. He'd fought with many a formerly-friendly face over the chance at a meal, and could not bring himself to hold resentment for those he'd scuffled with in the past.

He would not dare utter this around his clanmates, especially those who had become quick to draw claws at anyone who wouldn't sing praises for the ground beneath Sootstar's feet. Perhaps it was a flaw in character for him to retain some of his rogue-ish mentalities, but he would only call it practicality. Besides, he already pledged his honor to the cats of Windclan and their continued prosperity, his loyalty would not be called into question.

Foxglare met her eyes with a quizzical look of his own, he recognized her as being a cat he fought alongside to retake the clans from the paws of thieves, and for this, he would meet her with a distanced respect. There was something unreadable in her gaze, though, he was never all that great at reading other cats anyway. He could not tell why she lingered, nor could he say why he felt compelled to listen if she had anything to say, but he paused anyway.

He would glance backward for a long moment, peering sharply into the grass and listening for any tell-tale signs of eavesdroppers before turning back to face her. A ripped ginger ear flicked, and he'd regard her with a stony glare as she spoke, "Not anymore, it ain't. You caught it squarely, 'nd I'm not keen on jumpin' over the river to snatch it anyhow." Foxglare would catch another one... Or he wouldn't. Hunting luck was less often doled out these days.

He wondered if she was fixing on trying to trick him or something-rather. He was well aware of the incident Cottonpaw had getting snatched over this very bridge, and how the river-cats mocked her kin with the threat of her life. Now he was too big to be dragged over so easily by this she-cat, but he kept his tone steeled knowing she could have been the tricky sort, "Thought y'all had more of a taste for fish."

ALL IN ALL ⁀➷☾⁺₊ IS ALL WE ARE

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 13mo moor-runner of windclan
  — a large, scarred light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — hs by mercurial, fullbody by antiigone
  — penned by eezy

​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Ugh... so jumpy... She had very little time for this charade if he was going to play 'hard to get' over a rabbit. She rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed by the back and forth before it had even really begun. "You chased it into my paws, hardly call that 'squarely'... I owe you a favor anyways, just take the damn thing."

It is a little unfortunate to be something so big... something that might make Smokestar a little less irritated with her. But... what was a silly bunny for the cost of her life in the grand scheme of things? She'd just make up for it with a fat bird or two... stay up late tonight to find some rodents scurrying about. It would be fine... probably.

He narrows his eyes with a silent contemplation of the situation, sizing her up as a genuine threat (and she would be, if she cared to chase him across the bridge about it). These young cats... they had no recognition for what the world was like before the clans- there were not such clear lines of loyalty, sometimes a good deed was simply repaid without strings. Their unwillingness to make friendships isolated them, made them vulnerable to manipulation... maybe that was just her 'old' age getting the best of her morals. The codes were so new... hard to agree with and follow blindly when experience sung of different potentials, of better ones.

"Uh... most of us," she agrees, flicking an ear at the idle conversation. It was an attempt... at least... "Not so much for me... I'm more of a fan of birds." Picking up the rabbit with a small huff, she waddled towards the bridge with no small amount of effort to not trip over its dangling legs, dropping it stubbornly just outside of the wooden planks that separated their border.

"Take it before someone sees... Clearly WindClan isn't sane with Sootstar around... would be a shame if she let you starve to death." He is of particular exception.. the rest of them couldn't roll into graves fast enough. "If you're keen on repaying me, you can leave a bird here sometime. Fair enough?"

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WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

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