great gig in the sky | fox patrol

She knows she should be used to leading patrols by now but its always the same, her worries settle in a pit in her stomach and what ifs begin to run rampant. Deep breath, now isn't the time for that. "Please be alert, as soon as we head out anything can happen. However, I won't let anything big happen." words of encouragement, she thinks, but she feels like shes doing the exact opposite. "Foxes are extremely dangerous, but with one of them being in our territory we need them gone. The only way we can do this is by confronting the problem head on." she blinks and its the cold fear that this could be the last time she looks at the camp that floods her veins. "You two, stick by me and i'll protect you both, okay?" she quickly flicks her tail to Sunpaw and Greenpaw; she wants them to learn, needs them to learn because if theres ever a day where shes not around to teach them... She needs them to know how to do it themselves.

Perhaps its just her overthinking but even if she didn't return she'd ensure her apprentices would.

With a final deep breath and nod to each of the attendees, they had set out. The foxes had murdered two of their warriors, even if Sheep didn't like them they were till Skyclanners, Twitchpaw's parent's. The best course of action would be checking the scene where it happened, so she leads them there and takes a deep breath when they arrive. Even if the scent was stale it was practically choking her and curled ears swivel backwards. She opens her mouth before a newer, fresher scent rolls over the patrol and its that very moment her heart stops.

"Okay, Skyclan, we'll drive the fox out! Be prepared." and as soon as the words leave her mouth it bursts from the undergrowth, all snarls and spit. She immediately goes to slide in front of her apprentices, fur bristling. "Okay, now!" and then she springs, hoping her patrol follows suit.

// @ThistleBack @GREENPAW @Hailstone @SLATE @Sharpeye @SUNPAW. ----- warriors pls feel free to tag your apprentices if your character would take them!! 😼 pls feel free to powerplay the fox as long as it doesn't leave yet, can't have it leaving too early 🔥
"speech"​
 

Bloody foxes. Sharpeye had seen his fair share of them during his lifetime, but that didn't make him any more confident with confronting such beasts. They were dangerous predators with a level of cunning that made them hazardous for any cat, especially that of apprentices. At first he had contemplated the notion of leaving his pair of apprentices behind, but ultimately they needed to gain such experience and quite frankly the more cats they had the better the chances they stood at driving the fox away. Foxes were smart, smart enough to know when to run from an overwhelming battle. "At no point during this patrol should you two leave my sight, and do not engage the fox directly. Do I make myself clear?"

The smell in the air changes, grows stronger even. The unmistakeable stench of fox. It draws a growl from the small tom as he bares his teeth the best he can given the unusual arrangement of his jaw. He signals with his tail for his apprentices to ready themselves as he prepares to join Sheepcurl's lead. The next part happens quickly as he launches forth, landing before rearing up with a caterwaul bursting from his maw. "Be loud, make yourself bigger, that'll scare it!" He thought, though perhaps scaring another animal isn't always the best idea, as he finds when he gets kicked in the face by a large paw. It nearly sends him tumbling, but he braces himself back on his haunches whilst seeing stars in his vision.

//Apprentice tags @Bananapaw and @-Wildpaw-

 
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Greenpaw has been on a multitude of patrols with Sheepcurl, has seen the borders of the pine forest before.

This patrol is different than those that came before it. A more serious mission is at hand, one that fuels the nerves that find their home in Greenpaw as the orange tom walks beside his mentor.

Foxes are extremely dangerous, his mentor informs him - and now, Sunpaw, his new training partner, too - as they walk. Greenpaw isn't really sure he needs to be told of such due to the need of this patrol in the first place. A fox, redder in fur than Greenpaw himself, had found its way onto SkyClan's territory. Had made the snow crimson with the blood of Twitchpaw's parents.

Dangerous indeed. Greenpaw didn't have to be told twice to get it into his head, the risk this patrol was being put through.

And as fox scent fills the air, the apprentice feels fear rattle him. He'll be protected, if he sticks to Sheepcurl's side, he's assured, but he thinks that means going near the fox. If the creature could do that much damage to two warriors, what could it do to him? Could this be his very last patrol?

He takes a breath. No, Sheepcurl would keep him safe. There was more of them here to fight this too, more than what Twitchpaw's parents had. It'll be fine, he hopes, as he prays to the stars while his mentor gives orders.

On her mark, Greenpaw springs forward after Sheepcurl, claws unsheathed in preparation for the battle ahead of him.
 
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Slate couldn't exactly say he was totally assimilated into SkyClan; he only performed menial tasks for the sake of keeping productive and pulling his weight. He held no loyalty to the clan whatsoever and only to his brother. Clan matters didn't necessarily pertain to him personally, but he could at least admit that his ego had been stroked upon being chosen for the fox patrol. It had slain a pair of SkyClanners recently, apparently, though none of the names he knew of whatsoever. This was more so, in his eyes, a chance to prove his strength and prowess to the others. The best part was that Silversmoke had been elected to pick daisies and whatnot with Dawnglare instead. Hah!

He had hardly paid any mind to Sheepcurl's briefing about the mission, about how dangerous this could potentially be. Slate had dodged the hungering jaws of many stray dogs in the twolegplace, so how was a fox any different? There wasn't any way one of those fuckers could take on an entire squad of trained cats.

The patrol had made its way out toward the fox's domain and, within seconds of catching its scent, the fight was on. Slate bared his teeth and leaped forward, rippling muscles propelling him through the air and right at the vulpine's side. With a snarl, his claws made purchase onto the fox's neck just long enough for him to reach up and rake his claws down its visage. It yelped, flinging Slate off within seconds, though the sound itself provided sheer satisfaction to the cat and only fueled his adrenaline. "Yeah, take that!" The burly warrior spat.

He caught his breath and approached the ensuing chaos once more, squaring his shoulders and looking for an opening for him to jump. The fox's soulless eyes lock onto him, if only for a moment, to which Slate challenged, "Why don'tcha' try me, shitbreath! Go on—"

Cockiness didn't get one very far.

A flurry of sharp teeth dove down and latched onto Slate's scruff and he was immediately hoisted into the air. The tom cat let out a screech and wriggled in the fox's grasp, swiping and kicking and trying to find a way out. After a moment, the fox lost its grip on Slate but its fangs caught onto his ear in the process, effectively ripping it.

With a grunt, Slate crumpled to the ground, blindsided by the sharp pain radiating from his torn ear. He scrambled to the sidelines to gather himself, panting, the scent of blood overwhelming his senses.



  • SLATE
    —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. twenty-nine moons old. warrior of skyclan; former rogue.
    —— unrefined, rough and tumble rogue who is not accustomed to clan life. only trustful of his littermate, duskmane.
    —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.

    quite the hulk of a cat, slate stands above the average clanmate with an arrogant gait. he has a dark gray ( bordering on black ) colored pelt with a pale-brown-tinged underbelly and whisps of tan at the tips of his chest hairs. amber-colored eyes contrast against his dark palette. notable features include a jagged scar across his right eye and two small scratches across the bridge of his nose.
  • —— decided to officially remain in skyclan as a warrior
    —— participated in battle with windclan, currently recovering from belly scratches and a bite mark on hind leg


 
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I won’t let anything big happen,

Thistleback rolls his tongue over his back teeth, setting his jaw at a angle. He’s digesting the impossible promise with a curious narrow of his eyes, it certainly wasn’t a declaration he would’ve made. Fearful eyes, urgent orders to apprentices. Thistleback’s tail sways above the ground, his paws planted firmly but knuckles shuffling with low crackles. He eyes his apprentice, but wordlessly so.

Suddenly, an explosion through the ferns of russet and yellowing fangs. The piebald’s hackles lift like the flags of war, nettles of the blackest black lift and dance. Sharpeye is dazed with a black-pawed kick, behind it the power of three felines. Slate in a flurry of burly ebony, attached at the neck- flung with a sway of red but he was back again with a roaring insult. Blood rips into the air, the former rogue’s ear severed by fangs. First blood goes to the fox.

Paws hammer under him as he charges toward the flurry, springing like a bucking bronco and finding purchase on flesh while the fox is targeting Slate. Sinking his teeth so hard he could swear his jaw clicks, he shoves a splayed paw down to hook into the forest-dog’s jowls . Only the beast violently drops down, thudding Thistleback on the ground hard, punching the breath from his lungs. He could swear it felt like a tree fell on his gut, he loses grip at the sheer sudden weight and slashes at the creature's gums as it tries to reach for him, driving bleeding lines under its snout.


  • @Snowpaw @Quillpaw - if yall have time <3


  • MqZ0nzd.png
    ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
    thirty-three moons
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan
    taken by
    Deersong 9.29.22
    — mentoring quillpaw & snowpaw
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    voice & accent
    biography・゚✧
    OPEN for Dice battles | 🎲 stine#3004
  • bVBPWus.png

 
QUILLSTRIKE-1.png

CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY​


There has never been much purpose behind Quills actions outside of of 'do this because it's expected of you if you want to live here'. He adds to the fresh kill pile because it's required of him, he grooms the elders for ticks because he has to, and he patrols the borders because they're all expected to pitch in. But he's never done it because he wants to, because it feels good to do it.

But this, this definitely feels good.

The stench of the fox surrounding them is the stench of the same fox that had ripped the rug out from underneath Twitchpaw, sent his friends world spiraling into grief and guilt. And for once Quill thought he finally felt a sense of purpose. Was this what Thistle felt all the time? This burning desire to do something, to not just make sure it was done but to see it done himself so that he knew it was done right.

Sheepcurls words have him at teh ready in a heartbeat, muscles coiling beneath short fur as mismatched eyes narrowed in anticipation.

And then, it begins.

The patrol springs, and Slate and Shrpeye both god down within seconds as the snarling, spitting beast lashes out, snapping and turning in a whirlwind of teeth and fur. Thistleback charges next, and with him Quill charges as well. As the older tom leaps and clings to the fox it topples backwards to try and crush him beneath it, and the chimera doesn't hesitate. He springs atop the larger beast while it's down with a yowl of rage just as Thistleback yanks its muzzle back, and he sinks his teeth in as close to the throat as he can get.

It isn't a killing bite, but he takes satisfaction in the screaming yelp thats torn from its mouth as his fangs puncture deep and copper bursts into his mouth. He manages to rake his claws in a deep line down the beasts neck and chest just before fox manages to wedge a paw in between itself and Quill. Its shoves hard at him, the impact leaving an instant bruise across his chest as the air is driven from his lungs, but his jaws stay locked on flesh despite the fact that he's being thrown off the fox, the desperate mutt having torn a chunk of it's own body away with him in the process of kicking Quill off.

He hits the ground with a grunt, rolling with the momentum as he was taught to before finding his feet and hauling himself up to face the enemy. He spits out the mouthful of blood and flesh and fur he'd taken with him, muzzle stained red as he pulls air back into his lungs and steadies himself, watching the fox try to drag itself back to its feet and hoping Thistle is okay as he prepares to attack again.


-- Foxes injuries; chunk missing out of throat, claw marks down neck and chest
-- Quills injuries ; large bruise and scratches on chest, momentarily winded

skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders
 
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Cream and white fur was bristling up twice its size as these green hues widened as the reality of the situation hit her. She looked at Sharpeye as he barked an order but his words felt lost on her deaf ears as her heart hammered behind her ear drums. Bananapaw had poor fighting skills, maybe medicore at best, but this was different than the border skirmish. This wasn't another cat, a cat with a name and family or something like family, it was just a fox.

Still she didn't know what to do as cats threw themselves at the red furred creature, and watching claws sink in with large, white fangs chomping after heels. Bananapaw swallowed hard and then her gaze caught that of the dual colored pelt of Quillpaw, he lunged for the creatures throat and connected but was then was thrown off to the side like a toy. She gave a gasp and quickly rushed to his side, pressing her shoulder against his to help him get back up from the ground.

Bananapaw looked up at him then towards the fox before hissing herself, bristling her fur and she took a couple of bounds into the thick of it. Small body able to slide under the foxes belly and made her to get at its underbelly with her fron claws. Though misjudged how to get out of that situation and she was subsequencely crushed under the fox as it collapsed to the ground to dislodge her. The tawny striped she-cat gave a cry out and was quick to wiggle free, swiping at its muzzle before scittering backwards with her tail bushy.


speech


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In the process of springing forth, Sheep has her claws unsheathed and shes vaguely aware of Greenpaw leaping besides her. Sharpeye is screeching and shes not sure what its about, whether its an intimidation thing or if hes talking since she has long drowned out the sound as something coherent. And its this thinking that catches her off guard, too stuck up in her thoughts and head that she reacts to the paw coming straight to her too late. It swats her away as if she were a measly tick and she slams awkwardly on her shoulder, a hiss of pain leaving her. With slight triumph, she realizes she had gotten some scratches with her own paws in on the other foxes leg.

And then things truly go to shit as her warriors, her clanmates, her patrol-members begin to sustain injuries of their own. She’s not fond of Slate, but upon seeing his ear get torn, she forces herself on her paws despite her own pain radiating throughout her leg. Every step is excruciating on her freshly bruised leg, but she needs to get to him as he scrambles across to the sidelines. “Slate! Slate, can you hear me? Oh, amigo…” its guilt, its gnawing and its angry. “Stay with me, breathe.” shes not sure how bad it truly is, if it had effected his hearing, she was no medicine cat like her friend was. But Stars be damned if she didn’t plop her ass down here and protect him.

And the fox is screeching and kicking and swiping as well, but its taking blow after blow, claws scoring its face over and over, teeth in its skin- and now its especially pissed and in pain as Quillpaw takes a chunk out of its throat. And it’s fighting, try as it might, but its being backed in to a corner and its severely outnumbered. After its scuffle with Bananapaw, nearly trampling her under its weight (and subsequently gaining another facial scratch), the fox lets out a frustrated howl. There was no point in sticking around, these cats weren’t caught off guard and they fought as a team. It sizes them up one last time before booking it, towards their border and away once and for all. There will be no meals for a starving fox here, and Skyclan made sure of it today.

Once the fox takes off, Sheep lets out a relieves huff, eyes wide as she turns back to her clanmates. “I need relatively uninjured cats to go follow that trail and make sure it left for good. We will not engage with it, we’re just checking. And then we’ll-” thats her first order, heaved out. Shes sure her heart could beat out of her chest right now and she feels like she can barely form a sentence. “If you are injured, you’re going back to camp right now. Theres no point in sticking around and bleeding out,” is she doing the right thing? She’s not sure how to handle this, oh, the stress is coming back and it makes her shoulders ache once more with tension. “Actually,-” her head swings towards her fellow lead. Am I doing the right thing? He was more experienced in this, knew more, her strengths lay in anything but actual strength. “No. We’ll follow the plan I said previously. Uninjured checking the border, injured back to camp. Lets move, si?” her stomach churns. Shes fumbling this like an idiot. Her shoulder may hurt now, but shes patrol leader, and as stupid as her decision is, she’d rather send this damned creature to hell then see it injure anyone else even further. Sheep will wait for them to start moving until she does.

// and thats the end, skyclan has successfully driven the fox off!! pls dont feel pressured to reply unless you’d like to :} HERE is their return thread
 
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His own claws manage to find their way into ruddy fur, but his strike is hardly much to ward off the fox. The fox is quick to thrash in retaliation, quick to throw Greenpaw off of its form. Letting out a shout, the apprentice twists his body, an attempt to land on his feet. His landing is nowhere near graceful - of course not, it's Greenpaw - and his pawpads begin to sting at the impact.

Though his paws are cracked - though it takes a moment for him to reorient himself - he charges onwards, rushing at the fox once more. He wasn't going to let a bit of pain stop him! Though the fox fills him with fear, though he's no longer by Sheepcurl's side - the fox must be rid of, must be chased away from his home. He launches himself at the beast again, claws sinking into skin, this time. Wounding, spilling blood. Hurting it.

It's nothing near the damage of Quillpaw's attack on its throat, but it adds to the effort.

His second landing is of his own choice this time, but even still, he finds himself stumbling at the stinging pain against his paws. The apprentice turns a final time - preparing for one more launch, only for the fox's cry to reach his ears. Sides heaving from the rush of the battle, he watches with wide eyes as the beast departs the battlefield. Triumph is only mixed with fear and dread, as viridian gaze assesses the damage before him.

Should he have stayed close to his mentor, after all? Should he have fought closer to her - made an effort to get back to her side after the fox threw him off - to protect her just as she promised she'd do for him? Greenpaw can't help the guilt-ridden green wave that washes over him as he sees the awkward stance Sheepcurl takes on - the injuries the rest of the patrol carries.

He returns to her side, stepping carefully on scraped paws - trying his best not to worry Sheepcurl more than she needs to be right now. Orange ears twitch at her orders. He's not as injured as his mentor - as Slate, and Quillpaw - but he stays beside the curly-furred warrior, gaze lowered.