arabian nights — falling branches [ intro ]

[OAKFANG]

.don't try to —————————

————————— rush your enemy.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

OAK SHUFFLED BACK, STARING AT THE CREAKING BRANCHES ABOVE as the wind whistled, ruffling brown-smoked fur, causing amber optics to crinkle instinctively. He couldn’t help the bubbling worry that festered like blackened mold, brows pinched.

The sight before him was like the several storms he’d witnessed as a young lad, tail flickering in tandem with the gust that glided through tendrils. “Mhm.” He leaned forward, staring quizzically at the branch lengths away from him, head tilted. “Fall back!” He called loudly in tandem with a sickening splitter, sending the branch tumbling to the ground, undergrowth, and dirt kicking up.

Oakfang hadn’t been sure if anyone had been near, but one could never be too cautious when nature became more prevalent, showcasing just how powerful it could be when angered. “I should be thankful—” He began, creeping up on the fallen branch with a swirl of his tail. “That I’m not back at sea braving the worst of it on wicked currents.” He rumbled, tone dripping with sarcasm.

He might have traveled by boat many moons ago, but the brown-smoked brute would gladly give up the waters for land. He had little to fear other than dying of fallen trees compared to drowning. A more horrid death in his opinion.

“A heads-up, don’t you think?” He huffed out a laugh, amber optics crinkling as he continued to stare at the pines. “It’s best if we warn the others going on patrol about these … finicky branches.” He hummed. “We do not need more death than what Thunder has suffered already.” His tone is a borderline whisper, thoughts drifting to those they’ve recently lost. A frown tugged at his lips, ear twitching upon his helm.

Oakfang wasn’t one to wish death on anyone, but if push came to shove, the large brute wouldn’t be so kind. His loyalty was strong to the clan that took him in many moons ago as a young warrior, now older—wiser. He had seen many things, but he was able to predict many things, but the weather? A ruthless force that even Oak couldn’t predict. A blemish in his otherwise boring routine as Whitelion called it. Stupid brute. He huffed.

thoughts speech​

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[nightbird]

nightbird is at the head of the patrol, maneuvering low to the ground in an attempt to avoid most of the wind's ire. through and around undergrowth she weaves with a fluid spine and sure feet. it seemed as though nothing could stop her, force her away from her focus. however, she nearly jolts at oakfang's alarm. her grey gaze blew wide as she spun around, watched at the branch met the ground with a harsh noise.

the lead warrior backtracked quickly. the billow of dirt and debris made it difficult to see the aftermath, she could only hope that no one had been caught under the mangled arm. she reaches it quickly, gives a quick glance over all of the thunderclanners that remained on the other side. a quick sigh of relief passes through a tight jaw that soon relaxed with the rest of her muscles. "everyone alright?"

a fluid leap crosses the remaining gap between the rest of the patrol, her tail twitching to try and eliminate some of the tension. it would have been a brutal way to go, bones crushed and bloodied, but by some odd stroke of luck they would not have to bring a clanmate home stretched across their backs. nightbird nodded quickly to oakfang's suggestion. "we'll let flycatcher know when we return, he can warn the dusk patrols before they leave, she responded curtly, ears twitching in a near nervous fashion as another gust rattled branches overhead. "keep your eyes up. not everyone is as acute as oakfang," she addressed the rest of the patrol casually, a small dip of her head praising the older warrior for his watchfulness.

//app tags @DUSKPAW & @LIGHTPAW . ​

 

[sloestride]

THIS WEIGHT ON MY NECK MAKES IT HARD TO CONNECT​

A fern bowed above him in the gale, edges soft with new growth. Sloestride kept his ears tall as he flanked the rest of the patrol, glad to catch whatever snippets of chatter broke through the broad trunks. However, the calm curve of the toms whiskers were snapped straight as Oakfang's voice rang out.

With a raised spine, Sloestride skittered closer- though towards the back of the group as commanded. Well clear of the rush of tangled bough that clattered to the earth, he just barely felt the wash of air the layers of leaves brought with them. A memory, moons old, of a similar branch slipped ice through his pelt. That one had been wreathed with flame, taking one of Emberstar's lives with it. The thought made him itch.

"Yeah- I'm fine." A little breathless, more than he should be, the snow-cheeked tom came to pause beside Nightbird. "This wind is something to get used to alright." His nose tipped low, uncertain. Even after leafbare the forest found something new to challenge him. The wind already stripped the world of unique noise in favour of its own, making hunting harder, and now they had to look out for branches?

"Finicky is the word for it." Sloestride agreed, eyes lidded as he watched the older warriors discuss. He'd definitely be keeping his attention much higher up from now on.
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[BERRYHEART]

Berryheart had not been on the patrol, but by a stroke of luck- or perhaps, a piercing strike of terrible misfortune- he had been close by when the furious winds had wreaked their wrath upon the trees, severing a limb from one of their oaks. Fortunately, far enough away that he was not struck- in fact, the patrol had been much closer. A flame-flecked shadow from the undergrowth emerged, shrewd gaze observing the billowing dance of kicked-up dust.

It appeared that Frosty had been the one to first notice the branch's precarious sway, a tom with surely enough experience under his belt to have forged a valuable observance. Inky gave a reasonable command, one that Berryheart stored away in his mind upon his quiet approach. At Snoopy's comment, the medicine cat let fall from him a near-inaudible sigh. "It must rain soon." The sky needed to let out its frustrations; he could see no other reason for this relentless and now potentially-deadly gale. He was not sure he could lose another Clanmate, or at worst another littermate, to the fickle forces of random, fatal chance.​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​