border CAFFIENE IN MY BLOODSTREAM [ ✦ ] dusk patrol

[Bluepool]

The way her sister had been acting lately is enough to distract her. Dusk hangs heavy over their heads, coating the sky above them with brilliant hues of purple and orange as the sun makes its descent in the sky. Soon, it would give way to night and already in the silence of their walk to ThunderClan's border, she can hear crickets chirping. It would be peaceful if not for the scene they had all witnessed this morning, the blatant way Sootstar had seemingly ignored her council in favor of cats who were more vocal supporters. They dare not speak of it though. Instead, she breaks the silence with talk of other things, desperate to keep the mood from descending into darkness."Who here wants to bet we run into a ThunderClan patrol today?" she says with a snort of air through her nose. Some days, they were lucky and the borders stayed blissfully quiet "They always seem to have a knack for knowing when their presence is not wanted" She has no doubt in her mind that one of them would have some holier-than-thou comment poised on the tip of their tongue. "They act as if they've never taken territory for themselves before" and no she does not agree with the fact that WindClan now lay claim to highstones but oh how she wished everyone would step down from their tall rock about it.

When finally they reach the border, she turns to the rest of her patrol, her eyes lingering on her sharp-tongued apprentice as she speaks. "Remember we are not here to make enemies, if they start spouting venom do not say anything back. We already have enough enemies at the moment without going about and making more" ThunderClan likely already hated them, but fanning the flames would not help the unfortunate situation that Sootstar had put them in. "We will hunt too while we are here, but if prey crosses the border just let it go. Be aware of your surroundings" she advises as she rubs her cheek against a patch of tall grass. "Featherpaw, mark over there please" she says, indicating with her scrappy tail to another part of the border, though a place where the red-furred apprentice was still within her line of sight.

// @milkthorn. @SEDGEPOUNCE @FEATHERPAW

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[FEATHERSPINE]

Bluepool was talking- it would be difficult to miss. Humour ran through her tone like a current of electricity, a peppering of laughter that Featherpaw found profoundly irritating for reasons she could not pinpoint. Disdain lay within the humour- Featherpaw had learned by now that she was not meant to like ThunderClan very much, and that the feeling was rather mutual. A warrior could kill her like a rabbit if she said the wrong thing before she'd learned to kick them. She didn't need to be told not to be a problem, not by Bluepool. Frankly, she was insulted by the notion that she was going to make enemies...

"I'm not stupid enough to g-guh... get them to attack me." Featherpaw offered her mentor a challenging look, but equally obeyed Bluepool immediately when she instructed her to begin marking the border. The nod she gave was quick, sharp, uncomplicated; she ruminated no further on the matter of impending danger, pushing it out of her mind and armouring herself for any confrontation that might end up arising.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[Honeydapple]

Today, the molly, had been encouraged to join in a hunting patrol near the Windclan border. The patch of land wasn't a favorable one, but the prey pile needed replenishing. Following the group out across the territory, her ears soon perked at the familiar rumble of distant chatter. It grew more and more clear as she neared the aforementioned border. Curiously, she detoured from the patrol and wandered closer to the border itself. Head peeking from between two trees as her nose registered the scent of Windclan.

Usually, the pointed she-cat had no qualms with being friendly to passing patrols. Under normal circumstances, that is. However, news of Windclan's unforgivable acts caused a rare frown to mar her features. Honeydapply could find few too little sound reasons why another clan needed Highstone's much less had the gall to attempt and defy Starclan's will on granting Smokestar his lives. Thankfully, it seemed the clan's ancestors had swooped in when they had, or things could've turned out far more gruesome. The thought alone twisted her stomach into knots.

Rather than hide away in the thicket, she called to the nearby hunting patrol in a hushed cry. "Hey! Windclan is patrolling nearby." No urgency or worry entered her tone, but hesitation surely did. It was difficult for the warrior to feign niceties after such a detrimental event. She would rather wait for her clanmates before making herself known to the passing Windclanners.​

 

[freckleflame]

leaffall dies in shades of scarlet and brown, rattling the earth with layers of crisp leaves and who-knows-what. she’d learned long ago to be wary of the trees yearly shed ; while a favorite shelter for small rodents, it also harbored super creepy crawlies. she’d seen an adder in a particularly deep pile before, she swore. a slow, slithering thing, it’s ornate patterns sliding eel - like through the patchwork leaves. at that time, she’d rounded backwards as quick as her paws could take her, only a newly appointed apprentice then. nowadays, she was bolder ( she tells herself, definitely not on the tips of her toes as she creeps through the damper leaves ), long made a warrior of herself. windclan’s border was a frequent stop for her these days, moreso now that the reek of thunderpath quickened her breath, sent her heart into a frantic frenzy about the ribs of her chest. her assignments had been merciful thus far, the borders quieter now that windclan’s queen skulked the land to highstones. distasteful, an air of disgrace muddles their borders, windclan reek something high and alkaline in her nose. like rot. like a fire, eating away at them until all that remained was a thin layer of crumbling black. trembling nerves dotted their scent lines, a low simmering anger in the eyes of those they cross. it was a restrained irritation, the code still held tight to their chests on either side.

the air was tremulous, but she was not. honeydapple’s hushed voice lifts her head from the plant she’d been shoving her nose into — partially to scent for prey, partially to warm the wind - bitten flesh there. while the she-cat didn’t seem to panic, that creep of hesitance in her voice pries her forward and into sight with a rhythmic crunch-crunch-crunch, “ they’re not gonna do.. oh, it’s you! “ it’s said with a sudden joviality that, in any other situation, would seem genuine despite the way that sentence would have certainly ended in “a damn thing.’. it was her, her name she couldn’t place, and a relation she could. she’d seen her patrolling the borders — windclan’s queen shows herself in this molly just as it did her children, the few times shed seen them. one has been present, their last encounter : an easily riled blue chocolate tom, scruffy in a way her mate had been before biting the dust ( there was a new one with her, this time a smaller, brown - red youth with hard eyes. was that a windclan thing? ). no, this molly had the same face, same eyes, the same venomous beauty beneath eyes far older than she seemed to be ( it had to be a windclan thing. ). blue, bluer in the light of a dipping sun. did she have the same poison running through her veins? it reminds her, briefly, of that adder, sly and quick in the grass, hidden despite the gleam of its iridescent skin. only fleeting glimpses, and she considers it a fatal bite dodged. a wicked smile dances lopsided onto thickly fluffed cheeks.

hurdling yowls across the border had only gotten their gaggle of young warriors face with a tail quickly turned and little fun. a border squabble was her starclan - given right, after all. she decides on a different tactic — overfamiliarity,“ yeeah, yeah. id remember that face anywhere. hiiii! “ she calls, lulling her head aside with a wide, comical batting of her eyes. whether a compliment or not, there was little indication of either — only wave of her thick tail and a trill to her greeting too sing - song to be true. she moves to nudge honeydapple with her shoulder, friendly, into the dimming dusk lights, tail flicking her shoulder as if to say don’t worry, watch this, ” who are your friendsss? “

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

• i.
  
• 
  
  
• 𖦹 . LESBIAN. SINGLE, CRUSHES EASILY. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK. SIXTEEN MOONS. NAMED A WARRIOR 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORED UNDER WOLFWIND, PENNED BY ANTLERS !!!
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! shades of vibrant russet, dousing swathes of shadow and interwoven with ribbons pale cream come to drape like licks of flame over a thick, broad - shouldered figure.
  
  unspecified maine coon heritage born of sunfreckle's kittypet background shows itself in large, round paws and tufted, long - furred toes set upon thick, tabby - splotched limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers, all while bearing a wide, bright - eyed grin. she seems to sing confidence from every laugh, every word.. that can't all be for show, can it?
  
  ——— ˙⋆ — prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.
  
  

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[Bluepool]

An amused snort escapes her nostrils as herself not stupid "No one called you stupid except yourself kiddo!" she says, though her tone has a light, teasing infliction to it as she goes about her business, eyes never leaving the red pelt of her charge. Or at least they didn't until she heard rustling in the bushes nearby. Black-tipped ears flick and her gaze turns to the direction of the undergrowth that is now parting, making way for a familiar tortoiseshell face. 'Oh it's you!' she exclaims in a familiarity that Bluepool had not expected. They had only met briefly during WindClan's stint first in ThunderClan's oaks and then ShadowClan's pines. "Indeed, it is!" she would agree, playing along for now, her scrap of a tail lashing behind her but a smile on her jaws. "Firepaw right?" and oh she knows this molly is a warrior - she was certainly old enough to be, though she was much younger than Bluepool herself so for now she feigns ignorance, smile still plastered on her face as she plays at friendliness in the same way the she-cat across the border was. If this was the game then so be it.

She sends the rest of her patrol a look that says told ya so ThunderClanners really could never resist the temptation to stick their noses where it doesn't belong, after all. They very well could have gone on with their separate patrols, and yet here they were, wasting one another's time. "Oh these cats?" she says, looking once more to the cats behind her "Well this is Deaththorn" she says, gesturing to Milkthorn and coming up with a fake name on the fly, something much cooler than Milkthorn thats for sure! "He has a kill count of ten and eats baby rabbits for breakfast" she informs the ThunderClanners. "That over there is Monsterpounce, he is best known for the time he killed a twoleg" and she nods like this is the most serious thing in the world and she leans over conspiratorily and in a whisper that is entirely too loud for her to actually believe she is really whispering she says "Though if you ask me I think it was just a kit" and she settles back onto her haunches to gesture finally to Featherpaw "And this is my apprentice. Apprentice, why don't you introduce yourself?" she prompts, easy smile still on her face "And then perhaps once when hes done with that you could introduce me to your mentor?" and with that she gestures to Honeydapple, still pretending to believe that the she-cat opposite her was an apprentice and not a fully grown warrior of ThunderClan. The smile she had donned earlier does not leave her features.

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[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Wind whips across the meadow as they reach ThunderClan border, carrying with it the last threads of warmth in the fast-cooling air. Whatever it was that happened between Sootstar and company is like a wall in the back of his mind—distant but solid—as he stares into the imposing treeline.

Bluepool says things and Sedgepounce doesn't respond. Discomfort twists a small frown to his face, eyes drawn to the wave of brambles ensnaring the border, then out to the rosy-tinged moorland. It's stupid for him to wish that they do see a patrol. It's stupid that he keeps that to himself.

The smell of firs and ferns and rootbound soil take him away to an old, distant place. Trees so tall that they could blot out the sky; bloody and freezing, limping like dogs, as they all take turns dragging Stormpaw home.

Stormfeather now, he unwittingly thinks. Their patrol slows at the threshold of the dense, murmurous woodland. The reminder warms him.

He's wandered sidelong to brush against a patch of undergrowth when ThunderClan emerges from the foliage. A cat bursts forth and latches herself to Bluepool, wailing and waving. Her voice has the weirdest lilt to it—the way that queens talk to kits who've just started to babble. If he were stupid, he'd wonder if they really were friends.

"Make no enemies, huh..?" Sedge—er, Monsterpounce murmurs to himself, though a smile festers on his face. He wants to see where this goes.​

 

[milkthorn.]

the white warrior, body laced with fresh new scars that he now prided himself in, followed the border patrol towards thunderclan border. he didn't care where they were going, truth be told. he just wanted to go somewhere. the quickly rising twilight left a serene feeling in the air, a calmness washing through milkthorn. the green grass was making way to its own death, littered with patches of brown from cold nights, and some leaves of brown red and orange that had a soft crunch to it.

bluepool mentioned about not making enemies, asking questions, and filling the air with a conversation yet to him it seemed bittersweet. to not make enemies would be easy for the new warrior. three or four months ago, bluepool would be talking to a brick wall who just didn't care. he was not that child anymore. he had a quiet confidence now, a fire of loyalty and compassion like a fire below him to continue onward. he had stopped caring about the little things that had brought him to dismay. he no longer hated the world, and he no longer seen everyone as enemies. "it is likely we run into a patrol, but i do hope not. in and out is all that would make the night even more peaceful," his murmur was quiet, brought along to the others like a soft wind.

they would approach the border, the grey female continuing about hunting and so on. "of course," he responded, dipping his scarred face a bit. windclan always seemed to have enemies- casting sootstar as cursed, and never understanding their point of view, or their side of the story. villains are created because of being misunderstood and determined but unfortunate events. he did not consider windclan or sootstar villains- but everyone else did. it rolled off their tongue as easy as saying 'the sky was blue'. but perhaps it was his loyalty to his clan that made a veil fall over his face and blinding him from the truth. anymore, he only listened to some but not all of the gossip that spread through camp.

he broke from his thoughts as a loud voice broke it from the other side of the border. as long as they stayed there, he didn't care. but the tranquility in the air was broken. any hunting that milkthorn would have so wanted would more than likely be broken by their loud voices. have they never hunted before? he kept his thoughts to himself, pulling himself forward and ignoring the conversation to mark somewhere along the border.

he seemed to stop in his tracks as bluepool gestured towards him, his ears perking as he called him deaththorn. a small chuckle came from him. he had never killed anyone, but, rabbits were his favorite prey ironically. his tail would flick a greeting, keeping his own voice muted for now.
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