GAME'S NOT OVER YET | search patrol

[FERNDANCE]

It had not been clear who was to lead the patrol, and taking the news far more personally than anyone else, she had half-expected Frostbite to declare himself the Patrol Lead - he wouldn't have gotten any protest from Ferndance. Only a moon had passed since her duties had been abated but it felt like a lifetime since she had taken the reigns and guided members of her clan. The path she shepherded others upon was usually wonky, distractions were aplenty in the ticked tabby's world and she would indulge as many as she could in her fantasies, but today was different. She could care less for the nuance of politics or the streamlining of clan activities to make them more efficient, but missing kittens was another devil entirely. The warrior's maternal instinct was fierce, now more than ever, she could see herself tearing through an army of badgers if it meant keeping the little ones safe: realistically though, the chance of them being alive was slim. ShadowClan clung onto hope that they would just be lost or missing, be it for Smogmaw's sake or their own, but Ferndance couldn't rid herself of the sinking feeling within her gut: Halfkit and Tanglekit were no more.

Indulging in stories had always been her favourite pastime in spite of her usual bluntness, she would keep up appearances until it was too late to consider the possibility of survival. Moving southwards through the marsh, the ticked tabby stopped every few tail lengths to taste the air and brush away the reeds. All that was on the wind was pestilence and stagnant water, all that the plants hid was more plants, no bundles of fur in sight. It would be an arduous task when their scent had vanished, like trying to find a mouse skull in a haystack, and StarClan wasn't exactly known for giving miracles to ShadowClan. "Do we know of any fox or badger holes around here?" She finally asked, raising the grim possibility as she turned her head to the patrol. Honeypaw and Scorchedpaw were with her, StarClan, it was usually so easy to remind them that life was fragile and that everyone died - why was it so hard to accept now? Her voice softened to a mournful whisper. "Perhaps they are hiding in them." 'Hiding', hopefully more than just bones would be located within them if she were right.

@Frostbite @Scorchedpaw ( + apprentice tag: @honeypaw )

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[Scorchedmoon]

Scorchedpaw was certainly the odd one out here, making him feel a bit awkward. He’s not exactly certain why Chilledstar chose him of all cats to go on the first search patrol, other than him maybe being able to convince the kits to come along with him, thanks to his youthful personality. Would that even be enough, or very useful at all? And this is assuming they even find them… no, they (or at least the clan in general) will. It’s just a matter of when. There’s no way they’ve already passed…he refuses to believe it!

Ferndance asks if any of them know of badger or fox dens around the burned sycamore, and none come to mind. He is lucky to not have the trauma that surrounds the tree that others in the clan do, having been born the moon after. Even so, he still tends to avoid the area unless he is training. “Not that I’m aware of.” He keeps his answer brief, even if he is most certainly not the cat to ask. Though, if there was, one of the clans probably would have complained about it. Or at least said something. Though maybe that’s wishful thinking…​

 

[Frostbite]

His ears are perked and his eyes are peeled, he scans every inch of the marsh he passes, searching for every single possible nook and cranny. He still feels his heart racing and the anxiety gnawing at his nerves. The only thing soothing his restlessness was this patrol, the glimmer of hope that they might find them... The crushing fear that they might find them dead.

He follows beside Ferndance, mostly because he cant slow down. His legs are pushing him forward as if he has no say in the matter.

The topic of foxes and badgers is mentioned and he feels his stomach turn to knots. What if? What if, what if, what if.....

He bites his lip. He can't focus on what ifs. He needs to focus on here and now. "No, not that I've found, at least." He says. He cant imagine trying to dig a burrow out here anyways. All that hard work and then the den floods because of how soft and moist the ground is. What if-

What if they're stuck in the mud somewhere? What if they drowned, like Ghostpaw had?

He begs to Starclan in his mind. Please grant them this one kindness. Help them find these kits.

"Have either of you been able to pick up a scent?" He asks.​