- Jun 7, 2023
- 311
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There was a sense of satisfaction at being chosen to join one of WindClan's many patrol. The shadows had often been the tom's only choice of thing to assess, be it because of Sunstride's ignorance or his mother's attention shifting elsewhere, being given such a responsibility felt like a sign of things to come. When he moved towards the bridge, his gait could not be different from that in the tunnels, the only hint of pride about his new predicament being a curling smile upon his alabaster muzzle. It was not difficult for Sootspot to recognise how silly it would've been for him to act as if he particularly wanted to be knocked down a peg or so, especially as the smell of hostile territory began to reach his sensitive nostrils. RiverClan would posture more than he ever could, their strength under a new leader had not been tested, and the eight-lived tom had a lot to prove if he was to be as respected as his nine-life brethren. Sootspot's tail coiled in anticipation of the words they would say, the aggression felt even when no RiverClanners graced his vision. His paws didn't touch the wood, it was just as alien when it was on the ground as it was when it shot towards the sky.
Sootspot took a shallow breath, hitched; perhaps, responsibility was not always glorious when it meant having to deal with the neighbours. He bumped his head against the reeds that grasped onto the corner of the bridges like fingers, sinking his whole body into them to mark them, not as WindClan territory, but as a warning to RiverClan not to cross it. Yellow-green eyes watched the river as he did his duty, narrowing at any ripple out of place. "This is not typical, you know. We would not be told to patrol RiverClan's border unless there was good reason for it." His attention briefly flickered to Downypaw as he spoke, then, to the other two patrolmates. Harbingermoon was a Tunneler too, WindClan's secret, their movements often independent from the rest of the clan, their goals beyond the understanding of any who lived with the sun on their backs. Two thoughts entered his head: the first was that their smaller statures would make them more passive, they wouldn't provoke a proverbial bear into battle; the second was that, because of their statures, Sootstar chose them specifically to be bait to provoke RiverClan into testing their odds.
He lingered on the second thought longer, chewing the side of his muzzle as he marked a wooden mast. Then, he let out a bark of laughter, as if to dislodge his conspiracies, turning to the others as if he'd come to a much droller realisation. "Should our fusty friends show up, we remind them that they have nothing to be angry at us about - we were not the ones who trespassed." This time.
[ @MOCKING-GRIN , @HARBINGERMOON , @downypaw ]