back from the grave - RTA / open

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

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It had been a shitty day of training for Ghost. He wan't sure what it was that had him so off his game but he'd lost the majority of the sparring matches he'd been in that afternoon, a major red flag for warrior, whose combat expertise was no doubt one of his greatest strengths.

On a good day, Ghoststrike was not an approachable cat. He was quiet and gruff, hardly the sort to hold a casual conversation and easily all work and no play. His eyes seemed too dark, his face too pale, and his towering, muscular frame was covered in scars that clearly hadn't all come from cats. But on a good day, Ghost was steady; composed, cold, leashed.

Today, he was less so.

The ex-soldier was still the poster-boy for 'calm' as he made his way back into camp that evening- he wasn't snarling or stomping around with bristling fur, wasn't cursing his bad luck or looking for something to take it out on. Ghost made his return looking very much like he always did- only now there were several subtle differences that, despite being little more than whispers to acknowledge, seemed far louder and more noticeable against the usual background of calm; the irritated, insistent flick of his tail tip, the sharpened edge that lingered in his dark gaze, the tense muscles in his shoulders that betrayed his frustration.

Regardless of how his day had been going though, Ghost didn't take it out on the cats around him- tried not to, at least. He offered a silent nod to a familiar face who greeted him upon entering, acknowleding a second with a flick of his tail as they met eyes across the clearing, but as was usual, nobody tried to approach the tom or strike up conversation. Not that they necessarily couldn't, most just seemed to understand he liked his space unless he was choosing to initiate.

Emphasis on most. There were some cats that would never take the hint, but only one every really got away with it.

"Anyone feel like patrollin' out toward Horseplace with me?" he called, voice deep and gruff and heavy with the accent passed down from parents.

Despite having just returned from training, Ghost wasn't in the mood to sit around camp doing nothing. He wanted to distract himself, burn off whatever frustration he was feeling before it had him up for the rest of the night.

OOC- just a chill little patrol thread to do some socializing in :)
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rogue - male - 29 months - single - a very tall, muscular tabby with dark gray fur and white markings. heavily scarred with dark amber eyes ​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He has a keen eye for detail. Wolfsong occasionally jokingly remarks on it as a compensation for the lack of his other eye, but even as a child, before a dog stole twice from him, he was an observant little creature. Further, while there are unique shifts in posture and the language of bodily tells between different personalities, certain cues remain nearly universal.

Wolfsong doesn't miss the twitching of Ghoststrike's tail, nor the ridge of tension amassed in his shoulders. What has agitated him he cannot say, given his duties have taken Wolfsong elsewhere, but perhaps a visit to the Horseplace will ease his frustration. "I will join you," he volunteers in a friendly rasp, taking several steps closer and smiling amiably in the taller feline's direction. "I like to ensure any ground-jaws set by the twolegs are known to us."

No one wants a repeat of Sunflowerpaw's accident.
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[Bluepool]

"Mind if I tag along?" She mews as she makes her way over to the growing group of cats. She had finished working with her apprentice for the day, and she hadn't been assigned any other patrols so perhaps this outing would be nice. It would be good to get to know the two clanmates in front of her, at least. Wolfsong and Ghoststrike were both clan-mates she knew of but didn't know. Always were their circles separate, with little opportunity to overlap. "I would love to pick up some wool for my nest while we're out!" ever since Sunflowerpaw's incident she had kept her distance, fear of getting caught in a similar trap overriding her want for a comfy nest. If she was in a group though perhaps she would be safer. Six eyes were better than two or whatever the saying was.

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[SUNFLOWERMASK]

.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

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The idea of going back to the horseplace puts Sunflowerpaw on edge, a bit, so they initially ignore the call for patrol. But Wolfsong seems interested and -- oh. He wants to check for twoleg-traps, the kind that ensnared them only a moon ago. That's... a very good idea, actually. Much as they dislike the thought of returning, the idea of someone else getting caught in the steel jaws, of watching their clanmates sustain the same injuries as they have, it worries them. Wolfsong saw the trap, but it'd be good, they think, to have another set of eyes that knows what to look for.

Sunflowerpaw trails after Wolfsong and towards Ghoststrike, steps stuttering yet soft. They don't know the patrol leader well, but they'll feel more comfortable tagging along with their mentor. They speak no words as they approach, merely glance towards Wolfsong for his approval.

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IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• //​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 5 moons. semiverbal.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

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[GHOSTSTRIKE]

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While Ghost trusted very few, he knew Wolfsong to be among the more reliable members of the clan, and so he wasn't entirely disappointed when they agreed to come along. The darkened tabby had tolerance beaten into him when it came to patrols like these, understood well the need for co-operation in a group even if he didn't necessarily wish to be a part of it. That was always his curse though, wasn't it? He hated wearing the leash, and yet he collared himself to a new master all too willingly each time he had a look at the freedom he claimed to so desperately crave. Because at the end of the day Ghost didn't know how to function in a world where he wasn't living from command to command.

"That makes two of us." the skull-faced tom rumbled in response, offering the one-eyed cat a nod of greeting before dark amber eyes were drawn toward Bluepool. She's not a cat that's as familiar as Wolfsong, but he doesn't deny her request to come with them. If she feels like gathering and hauling around wool then he doesn't see why she can't.

Sunflowerpaw seems like the last to join them, and Ghost notes their uncertainty. He isn't bothered by it though, more than used to the looks and rumors. Ghoststrike was very much the kind of cat whose life was shrouded in mystery. He didn't seem to make friends, only cared about work, and never spoke about his past- though if one were to inquire when Nutsprout was around, they might find themselves blessed with a few rare details. The only common knowledge anyone had in the clan was that before Ghost was with the rogues, he belonged to a group called The Coalition, where soldiers were massed produced to fight against the stray dog population. Who he was, the things he'd done and seen, and why he'd left were all still very much a mystery though, and for those who didn't even know that much he was likely even more of an enigma.

"Four should do. Anyone else who wants to come can catch up on the way out." he said, turning toward the camps exit with a flick of his tail, eager to be off.
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rogue - male - 29 months - single - a very tall, muscular tabby with dark gray fur and white markings. heavily scarred with dark amber eyes ​

 

[Badgermoon]

Patrols were the warrior's bread and butter; like them or not, the life of a warrior required you made peace with the expectation of spending a significant part of your life out patrolling the territory. Badgermoon, fortunately for him, was something of an enthusiast - there was hardly anything better, in his mind, than striding across the moor with his Clanmates, feeling the breeze ripple over his coat. Moreover, the Horseplace was of continual interest to him, both for pure curiosity and out of an abundance of caution. The Twolegs had made him nervous even before Sunflowerpaw's accident, and now that the young apprentice was finally recovered, it seemed wise to keep an eye on the place.

The black-and-white tomcat loped over just in time to catch Ghoststrike and his patrol before they departed camp, and fell into step alongside Wolfsong, his dark tail swishing behind him. "It's brave of your apprentice to journey out this way, so soon after their recovery." he addressed his colleague in a quiet voice, his tone approving, even admiring. Would his apprentice show such bravery, he wondered? The tomcat's yellow eyes flicked around camp, seeking Snakepaw's familiar dark coat, before refocusing his attention on the patrol.

@SNAKEPAW​

 

[Nutsprout]

Emerging from the ground, he had been taking a nap in a tunnel entrance, when he heard Ghoststrikes' voice ring out. He sitrred slightly and seemed to dismiss it at first- but then seemed to think better of the situation. He got up from the ground and stretched slightly before padding out into the clearing for a moment and he paused. They had started walking off without him! With a small shake of his lilac coat, the tabby cat trotted on after them before having to break into a brisk sprint just so he wasn't left behind.

"Wait for me! Can't get rid of me that easily now, Ghosty!" He mused to the ground then specifically to Ghoststrike himself. Camp had be a bit tight lately with everything going on and he just wanted to spend some time outside of it. The days had grown warmer with the joy of new leaf and the sun shone down from the blue sky above- it was a rather glorious day out. Who was he to waste it by sitting in a tunnel all day?​

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"speech"​