BLANK SPACE — skyclan search party

[SLATE]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Slate could confidently say that this was his first time ever being chosen to lead a patrol, though he wishes that he could have done so in not so dire circumstances. This was not just an ordinary patrol but a search party for Blazestar's daughter. She may have had warrior training, but the twolegplace was a bad place for a young cat who wasn't aware of their surroundings or the dangers within.

The Maine Coon treks toward the front of the group, nostrils flaring as he follows a scent trail. They're onto something, he reckons, but is soon met with disappointment after it abruptly fades into nothing. Slate furrowed his brows and padded a few paces forward; still nothing.

He turned over his shoulder and instructed the group, "The scent ends somewhere around here. Let's see if we can pick anything up further down the way. Keep your eyes and ears open." Urgh, stuck with three kittypet-adjacent warriors. Not the company that Slate preferred to keep, but he supposes that they'd at least have some knowledge on the area. As for Slate, his expertise remained with the rugged streets and alleyways, not necessarily where the twolegs resided.

// @SHRIMPY BOY @Johnny @Ashenclaw ​

 

[SHRIMPY BOY]

A harrowing predicament in all regards. Blazestar, as leader, maintains the security and well-being of his underlings in his paws. For not only a clanmate, but Blazestar's own kin to vanish in a sudden manner can only spell disaster. No explanation, no parting goodbyes. Howlpaw simply left. With the amount of patrols Orangeblossom had devised, the likelihood of locating a trace of the torbie apprentice was ample in his mind—so long as she still walked amongst the living, that is. He's praying for a better outcome than that.

Shrimpy Boy sets aside his own grievances with the ebon Maine Coon in honour of the search's honest goal. His gaze potent and secretly bleak, he follows in Slate's trail as the patrol passes into a familiar environment. Twolegplace provides an abundance of nooks and crannies for a runaway to conceal themselves. "Roadside drain pipes," he mews, a marked timidness in his words, "and the undersides of porches. Cats who don't want to be found here hide in those." He wasn't implying anything about Howlpaw's motives, simply putting knowledge out there in case his experiences weren't shared. ​

 

[Ashenclaw]

"You'll Never Be Unloved By Me"​

Howlpaw had gone missing. The reasoning behind it was unknown, but they all knew one thing; they had to find her. Blazestar would be a wreck and the rest of the clan was up in arms over it- even poor Fireflypaw. Missing their sibling and snapping on everyone about their deep seeded fears over the situation. Ashenclaw looked up at the tree top for a moment before to Slate as he mentioned keeping his eyes and ears open for anything, to which he nodded. They needed to bring Howlpaw back- though the fear of her being alive or not still hung in the air. What would cause such a young cat to vanish into thin air like that? Certainly she had to be some where.

"Shrimp is right, we should also ask questions to local house cats and loners," He added onto the ginger tomcats' words, "While there is a lot of places for a cat to hide, there isn't far for her to go out here," Not unless she was kidnapped by a loner or something, or even by a twoleg. They tended to cause more problems then they where worth.

Speech
​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[JERSEY BOY]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Jersey Boy couldn't say he hung around the clan territories all too much. They tended to try and get him to go away, when all he did was lounge upon the fence line and look out into the trees. Was that such a crime? He really didn't understand why all of these cats would want to live in a group with rules and customs and all of that boring junk. It was much more freeing to live unbound by territory, by morals, by expectations. The streets were his home and he intended to keep it that way.

However, paying a little visit to the borders and messing with the passing patrols was always a fun little distraction.

Perched up on the fence and looking down at the SkyClanners, Jersey Boy pricked his ears and eavesdropped on their conversation. "You fellas lookin' for somethin'?" The tuxedo tom pipes up from above, his tail swishing as it hung off of the structure. "... Or someone?" Ooh, some drama? Damn, he must be really bored if clan matters piqued his interest.​

 

[TERMITEHUM]

₊°✩ SOMEONE TELL ME, WHO AM I SUPPOSED TO BE?

---

Termitepaw has been quiet, since they've entered the Twolegplace. They'd caught Howlpaw's scent trail, for a bit, and that had her hopeful, but then it vanished. Suddenly, like she'd just disappeared. How was that possible? It shouldn't be, they think. What happened to her? Even their racing, worried mind can't come up with an explanation. But it stopped at the Twolegplace, at least, so maybe they made the right decision in coming here.

They listen to Shrimpy Boy's advice carefully, take it to heart. They don't know why Howlpaw would be hiding, but she can't really rule anything out right now. Sometimes Termitepaw just wants to run away and hide from everything too. They don't think Howlpaw is quite the type for that -- she's brave, they think, in a way they both envy and admire -- but if she is hiding then that's alright. They just want to know that she's okay.

Termitepaw darts around, only vaguely following her patrolmates, checking every nook and cranny with a singleminded focus. She's fallen a bit behind when Jersey Boy addresses them, peeking into a drain pipe a bit away from the rest of the group. She's quick to return though, when she hears his voice. Ask questions to loners and kittypets, that's what Ashenclaw said. She speaks up immediately. "Someone, ye-es," she calls as she weaves her way back, breathy voice unused to volume.

She looks up at the twolegplace cat, worry coloring her gaze. "We're lo-oking for a ca-at... Howlpaw, yes, her name is Ho-owlpaw." she pauses, thinks. She needs to focus on identifying details. This loner probably doesn't know Howlpaw's name. "Mm, she's a... a small mottled brown cat, sho-ort fur, around my-y age...? May-be you've se-en her?" She tries for a smile, but it's not very convincing. Even she knows it's naive for the first cat they meet to know where Howlpaw is.

---

GIVE ME DIRECTION, I NEED AFFECTION ! ₊°✩

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• //​
• TERMITEPAW named for their dark and shiny fur.
  — she/her, they/them, or it/its. 10 moons.
  — skyclan apprentice, mentored by ashenclaw.
  — cowardly and superstitious, yet still kind.
  
  primary character, medium-high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

​

 

[ARCHANGEL]

Angel's not the type to hang 'round these parts either. But there are better parts to it– snickering at the patrols that walk past, enjoying the fun predator-free territory that they instinctively make. Even for a good bit around them, they don't allow anything dangerous. Like him, really. It fluffs up his ego a good deal to know they'd chase him off, at least if they weren't out of their depth on their own. They probably don't care for him, and there's a good enough reason for that. Ker and Vegas have poked and prodded at him a bit, asking an apology. He's almost acquiesced a time or two, but so much has changed since then– he doubts they'd remember, much less care. (Really, he just doesn't want to apologize for shit.)

Standing atop a fence that is most certainly not his own, looking between Jersey Boy and the SkyClanners with a great deal of amusement in his eyes, he laughs. "Please. Cats vanish out here all the time. You really think you'll be lucky enough to find the one?" Bitterly, achingly, he thinks of Tip– there'd be no getting her back, but if these clan cats think they'll manage it...fuck, he'd beg them for it. "Eaten by dogs, or the monsters like you call 'em. Locked up in a nice cozy home, twolegs thinkin' they're saving them. Maybe they fuckin' want to be gone. Good on you for asking nicely, though."

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: sorry he's so rude :(
• full information.
  

  
  ARCHANGEL,  angel.   might accept others,  rather begrudgingly at times.
  ──── uses he - him + masc titles;  will accept others with bemusement.
  ──── about 39 moons old, born during the full of greenleaf. acts older.
  ──── bisexual, singleish?  mostly here for a good time, not a long time.
  
  a tall, short-haired black tomcat with odd splashes of white and intense blue eyes that seem silvery in most lighting. he has a very lean build, with notably long legs and wiry strength. a stray cat from a busier area of the twolegplace, and a lifetime ass. a flawed creature with his heart in the right place, and a deep desire to change the world around him.
• "speech"

​

 

[ZORRO]

The clans' frequent nosing into twolegplace affairs was beginning to concern the white-striped feline. He was new(ish) to the place himself, but there was freedom within it to decide one's paths and codes that the forest groups simply couldn't replicate. Brought forwards by a commotion, he stayed on level ground with the cats. Other rogues were quick to leap at the opportunity to talk to these clanners and for a while, Zorro hung back, listening attentively to strangers and acquaintances alike. A frosted glare was cast towards the fellow black-and-white stranger, finding there were no words adequate enough to counter Archangel's points. He was right, at the end of the day. The chances of finding a missing cat within the city were slim, but not impossible, and it was that faint glimmer of youthful hope that caused Zorro to turn back to the SkyClanners with a speculative gaze. "Why are you looking for her?" It was that simple question that made all the difference. He had seen the clans' justice and he was not impressed. Should this apprentice have somehow earned the ire of her home for reasons that made no sense to the loner, he would not hesitate to protect her. Catching himself jumping to conclusions, the bobtail angled his head towards the alleged patrol leader. "Do you know she wants to be found?"

​

 

[SLATE]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Oh, great. They're being watched, apparently, by none other than a trio of twolegplace locals. None of them particular smelled like the stale innards of a twoleg home; they all just smelled like the streets. Hell, the bowtie-wearing tom reeked of a familiar bitter liquid and the acrid stench of those little fire sticks. Yeah, they were definitely a pack of city strays, alright.

Before Slate can answer the one tuxedo cat, Termitepaw supplies the strangers with information about their missing apprentice. Any shred of hope is immediately squandered by the cat with the white-splashed face, who seems to want to play the role of the pessimist and the snarky asshole in this situation. Slate squints, pondering if he's seen this one before; possibly, though any interaction clearly wasn't important enough to remain in his memory. "Yeah, we're aware of that. Thanks." The Maine Coon snorts with a dismissive flick of his tail.

His patience seems to run along a thin, sharp edge as yet another black and white cat asks unhelpful questions. Why did it matter? Termitepaw had asked a simple question and none of these toms were answering it. "It doesn't matter. None of that matters. The leader just wants her back as soon as possible." Slate impatiently gives a shake of his head.

Tail twitching irritably now, the patrol leader grunts, "So, if you don't have any info for us, we'll be moving on." They were wasting their time. Rogues didn't always tend to be helpful, always looking out for themselves. He knows this, as he was once a city-slicker himself.​

 

[Talonflame]

( PRETEND THAT YOU NEVER WENT TO SCHOOL )

"Describe what she looks like. I'll try to keep an eye out." Normally Talon wanted nothing to do with the clans, but from what he knew of them those with 'paws in the name were young cats. And young cats shouldn't be out wandering areas they didn't know, that was just inviting disaster.

The slender black tom leapt down from his perch before making a bold approach towards the SkyClan patrol, not even bothering to look at the other rogues and loners. They were hardly his concern at the moment and he somewhat doubted they cared enough about a missing cat. But Talon would always be a slave to his protective nature when it came to young cats. He'd seen too many dead, he didn't want to see another. "I'll help you find this Howlpaw."
​

( BUT STILL, YOU'LL NEVER GET IT RIGHT )

 

[Johnnyflame]

LIVE AS IF YOU WERE TO DIE TOMORROW​

---

Skyclan was certainly proving to be far more eventful that the fenceline he used to protect for his twolegs. He didn't dislike that- most of the time- but like Slate there was a bitterness that clung to the entire thing over the circumstances of this patrol, and the usual eagerness Johnny might have felt to contribute was replaced with tension and focus at the thought of something bad happening to one of the younger cats.

The bobtail wasn't as familiar with twoleg place as someone like Ashen or Shirmpy Boy might be -he'd only just moved to the town after all- but he knew how the places worked in general. His family moved around a lot, and so he'd had the chance to see multiple setups like this in his life and was confident that he'd be able to be useful.

It wasn't long before their presence began drawing the strays out, and Johnny came to a stop alongside Ashenclaw, the only cat on the patrol he was really familiar with. The patched tabby hadn't exactly had many positive encounters with loners in his lifetime, and after meeting Anastasia by the woods he was wary of the group approaching them now.

For the most part Johnny let the more experienced cats talk, but he did speak up when one of them asked why they were looking for her.

"Howlpaw's still young, not even fully trained yet. From what I've gathered this isn't typical behavior for her, and her dad's worried that something may have happened that's stoppin' her from coming home of her own accord. If she's been injured or taken captive, she'll need help." he explained. It might not just be a matter of a kid running away.

Another cat, asking for a description, and Johnny would dutifully repeat Termitepaws words. "A short furred mottled brown shecat. Younger, probably smells of the pine forest."
​

---

 

[JERSEY BOY]

❪ TAGS ❫ — The tuxedo tom's expression doesn't change much as the interaction develops, with the other rogues either being more pessimistic about the situation or trying to find out more about the missing cat herself. Frankly, Jersey Boy doesn't care. Why should he? It wasn't his problem. "Mm. Yeah, dunno. There's a lot of cats around 'ere, don't keep track of mosta' them." He yawns loudly afterward, tilting his head to the side as the stretch overtakes his maw.

He eyes the black tom who ignores the rest and approaches the clan cats as if he's some sort of detective-for-hire. Huh, what a chump. Why even bother helping these cats? It's not like they ever did anything for them, except steal territory and occasionally get into border skirmishes.

Jersey Boy shrugged and got to his paws, still balancing atop the fence. "We'll letcha' know if we see her... or what's lefta' her, at least." As unnecessary and callous as the last part was, Jersey Boy's interest mostly laid in channeling a reaction from the clan cats. They took life far too seriously and, admittedly, he wouldn't mind throwing paws with one of them just to see how well they fought. Rumors upon the wind claimed that the clans had their own unique style of training and fighting. Would they fight dirty like a street cat, or were they too good and honorable to do so?​