Easy does it (WindClan patrol)

[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon had plenty of faith in his warriors, but the idea of sending a patrol to RiverClan without his being there to supervise had been too anxiety-inducing to accept. Therefore the broad-shouldered tomcat had opted to simply lead this patrol himself, just in case. This way, if anything goes wrong, I know exactly what happened and who's to blame. he paused, before musing, Though if anything goes wrong on this patrol I'll be the one to blame. There was a bit of comfort in that, he supposed. Picking his way carefully along the border, he addressed the cats who he had brought with him in a low voice. His yellow eyes were solemn. "Remember what happened to Juniperfrost. Let's be quick and quiet about this." he was not afraid of the fish-chewers across the snarling waters of the gorge, but his gut still ached from Willowroot's powerful hind legs, and he had no interest in picking a fight - not today nor any day, really. Birds sang overhead as he paused to scrape his claws along the bark of a tree on the edge of WindClan's territory, and he felt a pang of sorrow that such a beautiful newleaf day was soured by thoughts of violence. At least he could make the best of it by trying to coach his apprentice and enjoying the fine weather. "Snakepaw, come here and look, see? You sharpen your claws on the wood and scent-mark the border at the same time. Here, you try on this one." he flicked his dark tail towards a stump a few tail-lengths away.

[ @SNAKEPAW @Firefang @HARRIERPAW @Bluepool <3 ]​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

❪ TAGS ❫ — As smelly and pathetic as the RiverClanners were, they admittedly put up a decent fight. WindClan had returned home battered to hell, bloody, and broken from the wounds that they had inflicted. Snakepaw was lucky that he hadn't received anything major from the muscular brown-hued warrior he had fought, and he feels as if he could thank his StarClan-gifted swiftness and speed for his luck. Sparkpaw had turned out to be no help, despite having suggested that the pair fight together, which still annoyed the obsidian apprentice to no end.

However, the raid was passed, and his minor injuries had been treated and accounted for. Snakepaw was glad to get out of camp and stretch his legs, this time on a border patrol to RiverClan. The border needed to be fortified, now more than ever; who knows if RiverClan was scheming something in retaliation for the raid?

Snakepaw watches as Badgermoon aims to show him a new concept — border-marking in the form of scratching at tree bark. That seemed simple enough, so he padded over toward the nearby stump and dug his nails into it repeatedly. Ah, that felt satisfying; there weren't very many things that compared to tree bark when it came to sharpening one's claws.

"Now I could use someone to sink them into." He hums, flexing his freshly-sharpened nails and admiring them as they glinted in the light. Part of him immediately thought of Firefang, who just so happened to be accompanying him on this patrol, but an even stronger ire burns for RiverClan. He lifts his emerald gaze to the border, expecting a patrol to be coming along any minute now.​

 

[QUIETSTREAM.]

CO-COMPARSION IS SLOWLY KILLING ME, I THINK I THINK TOO MUCH​

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the scents of the moors hits their nose like an assault and suddenly their stomach twists in ways it hadn't in a while. quietstream didn't even truly wish to be near the border... it just happened. their tail flicked back and forth, though with how small it was, it was unlikely anyone saw it unless they were looking her over. she squints across the river before just snorting quietly. it wasn't even with anger, it was with fear. they didn't wanna be here. she just wanted to go home. why did they still decide to mark their borders... wasn't killing one of them enough? wasn't... the bloodshed enough? why risk any more of it? quietstream only sighed, turning to the rest of the patrol she joined, with a gentle tilt of her head, angling back towards where they came from. maybe someone with a lot less anxiety than her could walk her back.
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[RAVENSONG]

As far as he was concerned, only WindClan bred war-mongers. Hyacinthbreath had been—was—one of them. Maybe that was why she felt the need to go all the way with her border kill. Ravenpaw, although puffed up with anger and bitterness, could not imagine tearing apart the throat of another cat or bashing its head in.

Ravenpaw was on the patrol that consisted of Quietstream and the others. He watched as a young WindClan apprentice scraped his claws against bark, murmuring something about using them for something else. "Typical." Ravenpaw scoffs softly, but he knows its not his place to goad them on. He raised his feathery tail, looking for the black and white of Gravelpaw's pelt. It was nowhere to be seen.

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