Trailing within the patrol, she follows behind Cicadastar with a swaying tail in rythmn to her gait. Lately she has been more quiet than usual, hooded eyes instead of sharp—her ire more smoldering as if doused by the pelting of rain. But as Cicadastar rounded up his patrol, chose her among a few others and her apprentice—that exhaustion that plagued her dark features had now fallen. Her usual alertness had returned, verdant gaze returning to it's luster and sharpness akin to tempest blades. Loners had been seen on their territory and it was to be investigated. Her gait is swift now, velvet ears pulled forwards as she glides over sodden grass and mud that squelches beneathed her knuckled toes. By her side, her apprentice keeps in step at her flank. She had mentioned for Sablepaw to keep sharp, to remember her training and the lead warrior knows she will do well. This was her first mission, a special patrol and she'd do well to act accordingly and impress the phantom that led them.
Brewing clouds rolled overhead, casting the meadow in a shade of dulled pewter. The air is thick, laden of moisture that clings to her sleek figure and the growing reeds surrounding them. Thunder rolls in the distance with a promise of an oncoming storm of the early morning, yet the persevered despite the circumstances. A clearing gives way, muddied with puddles of stagnant water and upturned soil. Cindershade observes the imprinted paw steps of a strange scent, reeking of musk and stagnant water. Her muzzle twitches, lips curling in distaste. Cicadastar's call brings her attention to him and she nods with a hum, falling in step with Petalnose with a dusted nose towards the ground. "I'm not sure. They'd do well to return to wherever they hail from, though." A low growl rumbles in her throat in reply to Petalnose and Iciclefang's question, stopping at what seemed to be more prints in the mud.
Her tail sways, beckoning Sablepaw to follow. "Do you smell it?" She murmurs to her, eyes trained pointedly to the swaying grass before them now. Shrouded paws prowl over laden earth, seamlessly dancing along with the stalks of grass that tickled her flanks. "They're certainly close by. Do you hear it? Voices." Her own rasped tone grows hushed into a lowly hiss, pointed gaze staring towards where a movement was now seen. She makes the outline of another feline not too far, followed by others and her fur prickles with unease. Ivory claws splay against the soft earth beneath her, the hairs along her nape and spine rising to that of quills. Blackened lips pull back tightly, revealing white teeth that gleam against her face. One by one, more loners appear and they all speak—some to them, some to each other. She cannot make out the nature of their speech, only the voices that carry with the wind.
Finally, one calls out to them and she is in step beside Petalnose with a lashing tail, chin held aloft as Sasha speaks. "This is our land." The lead warrior calls out, low and threatening—a warning. "You've been trespassing on RiverClan territory." In regards to her next question, suggested from someone called Goldy—weird name. A name resonating like a kittypet and her ears flatten against the crest of her helm. A kit grows more curious than the latter, daring to step closer with a greeting. Cindershade lets out another growl, taking a step forwards before returning her attention to the woman who spoke. "If we did know, we certainly wouldn't tell you." Her head whips towards the gangly tom, meeting a glacial gaze with her own; a silent question hangs in the air, waiting for their leader to speak. What are your orders?
[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]
