DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT [patrols]

SCORCHSTAR

SCORCHSTAR

the world does not tend to forgive
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Jan 15, 2023
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༄༄ The duties of a deputy cannot be disregarded, even when Scorchstreak feels like death is a whisker’s length away. For once, the calico would welcome it; the promise of seeing her mate again is tempting. But she has a clan to care for, a clan to help lead. A clan to protect. She cannot lie down and wait for her body to rot. And so with a mighty heave, the calico drags herself to her paws, carrying herself with what dignity she can to stand before the clan. Warriors are just beginning to wake and go about their daily duties, and her call is made as loudly as possible to grab their attention. "WindClan… gather for today’s patrol assignments." Her voice is dulled, dry and cracking like the charred grass that swathes their moorland. Fiery eyes fall to the ground, seemingly blank for a moment. Then she jerks, shoulders drawing up as she regards her clan once again.

"Patrols. First, to the horseplace. Dimmingsun, take Featherspine, Whitedawn, and Rowanpaw. To ShadowClan… Marmotbite, take Sparkspirit and Rivewhisper." She will not look any of them in the eye, will not afford them more energy than she can scrape up from the hollow pit of her chest. "Sunstar." Her voice catches on the leader’s name, and her expression grows guarded as she looks up at the tom. "If you will… take Gravelsnap, Kitepaw, and Slateheart to the ThunderClan border." She would normally take the helm of a patrol, but so too would Bluepool. And her mate is not here to lead a patrol, so Scorchstreak cannot imagine leading one herself. She would make for a poor example of WindClan’s strength at any border, anyway. Sunstar, however, is an intimidating figure even when he is left to stumble upon three legs. "Cottonpaw, Pinkpaw and I are at your disposal. So will Puppypaw and… Redheart."

With that, she has finished with her assignments. She still stands wavering before all of WindClan, however—there is one more order of business to be done. There is one more… one more burden to be placed upon her shoulders. "Sootspot. Bluefrost. Marmotbite. Come to me after your patrols are finished. I have a task for you all." Her glare falls coldly upon the smoky blue she-cat; her foolishness brings anger bubbling to the surface even past Scorchstreak’s grief. She had thought Bluefrost would know better. She is a tunneler. They could have gone entirely unnoticed and not sparked any sort of fight—but instead, their clan now faces ire from two neighbors. Her lip wants to curl, she wants to bare her teeth at the young tunneler, but she simply does not have the energy.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR
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He felt exhausted, the night's events a near-Sisyphean weight upon his shoulders as he moved towards Scorchstreak. The Tunneler listened for his name and tilted his head when it wasn't attached to the Deputy's patrol. It seemed likely that he wouldn't be on patrol at all, his tail coiling dangerously at the possibility. His pallid smile faltered as his heartbeat soared and blue blood began to boil. Tension filled his features and Sootspot stepped aside, allowing the patrols to disperse. 'I would rather be stuck with you than stuck in camp.' What was there to prove to his mother if he couldn't use his strengths? Accusations freely entered his brain, accusations that were too quick, but not quick enough to spill out of his maw before he calico spoke his name.

Fluttering his eyelids innocently, he swiveled his head, contorting his expression to one of polite attentiveness. Hearing his sister's and Marmotbite's names indicated that something needed to be done underground, as for what it could be, there were few speculations from the tom. It was a job to latch onto, a way to prove to the dead that they had been wrong to deceive him - that he could've handled being told about his family. Patrolless, he reclined on his haunches, wrapping a soil-tipped tail around his forepaws. "What is it?" He rasped, the other's glare upon Bluefrost almost as comforting as a hug to the chimera - with a half-moon like the one he'd had, he needed someone else to hurt for a change.



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It seemed as though the universe gave Celandinepaw so many chances to visit the Horseplace. She had wandered beyond the fog too many times to count, lingering uncomfortably along the wooden fences like some specter of who she once was, only haunting what was once holy to her. The spotted tabby surmised that it must have been a test of fate itself, destiny hefting itself upon her shoulders, and she felt that it would become too leaden for her to bear soon. Torn between her family beyond the moors and newfound kin within it, she kept her paws steadfast in the place that they had always been rooted. Celandinepaw trotted up to the patrol, grooming a stray part of neck fluff with a deft tongue, as she awaited for them to take off to the barn. Each time she went, she always looked for a familiar face among the drab hues... But she never saw her mother or father. This time, I hope.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊
  • OOC:
  • ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
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  • —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 9 Moons
    —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
    —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
    —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
    —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.
    Click to expand...


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Her body still aches from her tangle with the bitten-eared ShadowClan cat; she can feel cuts stinging as she makes her way to the front of the small crowd. She, like Sootspot, becomes wary after hearing Scorchstreak's special request. The deputy's flaming eyes sear through her pelt and burn the flesh beneath. Bluefrost blinks, uncertain of the animosity she sees reflected there. I didn't kill your mate, she wants to say, but she can't find it in herself to be vocal. She just happened to make the same choice I did, and she paid the higher price for it.

The smoke-colored she-cat sighs and dips her head. "Yes, Scorchstreak?" Her mew is plaintive, but polite. "What would you have us do?" She casts a wary glance to both her brother and to Marmotbite, wondering.


『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』
  • ooc: —
  • 69334192_7vVwuq2U19bWMTh.png
  • Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
    — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
    — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.


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MY BODY'S COVERED IN TEETH MARKS
YOUR BITES WORSE THAN YOUR BARK​
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marmotbite & 19 moons & demigirl & she/they/it & windclan tunneler ​
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The sound of her own name startles Marmotbite - body twitching as she jolts. mismatched eyes are wide and dilated as she turns to look at Scorchstreak, but after a moment she nods at the deputy. She has not lead a patrol before - but truly, how hard could it be? ... actually, you know what, it's probably going to go horribly wrong. Still, if there's one thing she won't do, it's give up without at least trying - no matter how bleak she envisions things going. Fluffed up tail twitches and then flicks, as the scarred molly drags herself to her paws. Head held high, she moves and speaks stiffly - staring up at those she's meant to gather and hoping that she comes across as strong enough to warrant respect despite her small size (lest someone end up bit before they even leave camp). " Rest up 'n eat if you must - we'll get goin' once the sun begins to set, " she drawls - best to try and escape the greenleaf heat as much as they can. Its a border patrol after all - not a hunting patrol. Tehre's hardly any need to leave immediately.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━
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T H E R E S ━ A ━ D O G ━ I N ━ Y O U R ━ H E A R T
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Grief needed to take a back seat, for now... buried beneath duty. Eventually he would become dead to those feelings, he was sure... that abyss of missing Bluepool. And she imagined, up in StarClan, yellow eyes glinted with humour; you never thought you'd miss me, did you? Maybe in a moon of so she would smirk at that thought, but for now it felt like another blow to the gut. Eyes drifted half lidded, saddened- but he fought the feeling, kicked it away, and stood up straight.

To the Horseplace, with Dimmingsun... it would at least be uneventful. Boring. But maybe he'd catch sight of Pinkpaw's "secret" aunt, that would at least give him a one up over Pinkpaw's more exciting friends in terms of conversation.

He was prepared to simply stalk away, but something caught his attention- somewhere went unseen. "Is no one to go to RiverClan?" The question was direct, but not malicious... she would not protest if no one were to cross paths with his mentor's murderer.​
✦ penned by pin​
 
༄༄ Sootspot approaches first, and his expression grows visibly stormier with each patrol she lists that does not contain his name. In any other moment, the calico may have found satisfaction in his disappointment, his anger. But now, she cannot find bitterness for the tom anywhere in her tired body. He seems less irritated when his name is called for the special patrol—and one by one, the chosen trio respond to Scorchstreak’s call. She regards them each with a narrowed gaze. "ShadowClan. You are tunnelers, you know the way through the marsh’s tunnels. Take what prey you can find… and remain undetected." Her voice is low, not quite announcing it to the rest of the clan. Sending cats to commit theft so soon after two patrols had been caught doing the very same thing—it is a decision that will surely see her judged by any who overhear.

Featherspine speaks up in question, and the calico shoots the young tom a tired glance. RiverClan… RiverClan. She had forgotten an entire border in her patrol planning, it seems. But can she… can she send more warriors to the border, when she had only just lost her mate—when Featherspine herself had just lost her mentor—to the fish-eating clan? "No," she responds, firmly. The word falls like a brick between them, and there it rests, untouched. None of WindClan’s warriors will be going anywhere near the gorge; it is an uncrossable border anyway, and pointless to mark. There is no use in risking more animosity for such a useless effort.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR
  • ooc: —
  • 83282667_7UVjIV9bzrILi7P.png
    SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
    ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
    ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
    ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
    ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    ༄ penned by foxlore
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