border GUILTY AS CHARGED | windclan patrol

[SOOTSPOT]

It had been an easy decision to make the dawn patrol maneuver close to the gorge instead of the bridge this time. Ebonylight was pregnant, and his apprentice had been threatened, it was for the safety of the few WindClanners that remained to be emboldened by high ground... at least, that had been his excuse. In reality, being splashed had been a miserable experience and he was not keen to repeat the process of warming up now that snow had settled upon their desolate moors. Little shapes already lined the Tunneler's vision in the distance, his ears twitching as he tried to discern any threats over the sound of wind howling in his ears. "Perspective changes so much," he hummed to his patrol, to Downypaw mainly, who seemed to be one of the few who entertained his philosophy. "Do RiverClan look large or small from here?" Small. They were ants, inconsequential, he could raise a paw to his maw and it would swallow the sight of them entirely. He tilted his head downwards, breath catching in his throat at the sight of the roaring river below. StarClan, it'd be easy to throw someone into it.

He wished he had, perhaps something could've been avoided if Sunstride or Wolfsong or Fox had had their bodies mangled upon the rocks. The corner of his muzzle contorted. "The moor-runners have this vision whenever they fight on our territory, but it is as equally deceptive to our opponents as it is to us - they will be so busy looking at the monsters upon the hills that they will not realise the true danger lies beneath them." Keen of hearing, swift of foot, it truly was the Tunnelers that made WindClan in his chartreuse eyes, it made Downypaw's rejection of them sting more than they usually would. Sootspot marked a patch of long grasses that had pierced through the snow, his arched tail beginning to lash. "I suppose the same can be said for our friends. If I was a fishface, would not want to hunt in the water today." Dawn's bite had not left, even with the thick layer of fur he'd learned to curse whenever he was navigating the underground. 'Though... it is probably more stable than being a WindClanner at the moment.' There was no difference in the size of the patrol compared to last time, but it still felt different being at RiverClan that day.

@downypaw ; @Marmotbite. ; @Ebonylight.


​

 

[iciclefang]

Iciclefang brushes her cheek against an ice-coated reed that threatens to break at her touch. The riverlands are coated in frost still this early, but she has hope the sun will burn the stiffness from their territory. She flicks a tail to beckon @CICADAPAW forward, her weary blue gaze trained on the other side of the gorge. “Their insults get more creative by the day, don’t they?” She remembers being three moons old, remembers the sting the words fishbreath had once held for her. They are droplets off her glossy pelt, now. She hopes Cicadapaw feels the same way.

She turns to her protégé. “Make sure you mark every mouselength.” Even across the gorge, there’s animosity burning between the two patrols. She almost wishes they’d chosen to mark closer to the Twoleg Bridge, as they had before—it has been many moons since her claws have had WindClan warrior fur between them.

, ”​

​

 

[downyfur]

Downypaw traipses along the gorge path at the behest of their mentor and deputy both. Dulled blue eyes roll towards the chasm, then to the bottom where the river frothed and foamed, as though the whole gorge was the calcified maw of one great hound. Lilacstem and Larkfeather were somewhere down there in its stony gullet. She can't be seen crying about it, though, by neither WindClan nor RiverClan. Weakness seems to forever loom at the horizons, almost breathing down their spines. Life right now seems only a game of trying to evade it, hide from it, or pretend it's not there.

The apprentice doesn't know whether this is one of Sootspot's questions that wants an answer, but habit answers for her anyway. "Small." Their voice is brittle and tiny, worn raw by tears and the effort of hiding them. "So...they see us as small too," they add, forcing steel into her tone. Like Sootstar, like Sunstride.

Downypaw flicks an ear as Sootspot elaborates, but does not turn their head towards him in favor of marking a nearby shrub. They are far too tired to try to parse his philosophy today. "...I see." Instead, they blankly stare at the RiverClanners gathering on the other side. Shapes, made blurry by the dawn-light mist, hover like flies across the twin cliffs. One is tall and looks like their limbs had been tugged too hard as a kit, leaving them oddly long and spindly; the other looks like the quintessential RiverClan warrior, the lighter patches of their pelt gleaming fish-scale gold in the first sunrays.​

 

[FOXTAIL]

The young warrior frowned at the scent of WindClan invading his nostrils. The last patrol he had been on that encountered a WindClan patrol had been less then pleasant. Tensions were high— understandably so, WindClanners were getting bolder by the day— and he couldn't help but feel relieved that the river acted as a barrier between the patrols. The WindClanners wouldn't have dared to cross the river, even when his clanmates resorted to splashing the WindClanners, and thus ruining their scent markers. He imagines if they crossed paths at any other location, a battle surely would've ensued.

Today's barrier was the gorge. While most RiverClanners are talented swimmers, even the most skilled know to stay clear of the gorge. If one were to fall in, they would not be met with calm waters and a smooth floor. If one managed to survive the fall, they would then have to fight the strong, wild current. And the chances of that occurring was unlikely. He feels his fur bristle as his olive green eyes land on the speaking WindClanner, Sootspot. He recognizes him from the last patrol, his tail swishing behind him. His apprentice catches his eye as well, he could feel his heart aching for the young apprentice. She doesn't know any better, being raised in a clan that's so hungry for power.

Stay calm, He tries to tell himself, as he silently marks RiverClan's territory, It's just a border patrol... But it's WindClan. His ears prick up at Sootspot's comment, eyebrows arching at the insult. He glances over at Iciclefang, while the comment was directed to her apprentice, he couldn't help but agree. "I'm convinced they only want to stir things up," The nervous warrior frowns, as he looks back over at the patrol across the gorge. The current in the gorge roars in his ears, no RiverClanner will dare to retaliate with water today. It was harmless in the last patrol, but it would mean certain death today.​

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• ooc notes here
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to raphaelion for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate tabby
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  14 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[Ebonylight.]

*+:｡.｡ One great thing about so much of Windclan's population being cut loose was that Ebonylight, despite her growing belly, was still allowed to join patrols. They needed the numbers, the strength, and the confidence, and Ebonylight was glad to deliver. "Big or small, they've always looked short to me" Ebonylight snickers with a wide grin breaking the shadows of her face with it's moonlight hue, "The way they slither through the water like snakes, it's hard to unsee it, even on land." She giggles to herself as she watches the riverclanners gather, imagining their limbs popping off and leaving them flopping on land like gravel. Or perhaps like snails. She'd stepped on one once, and felt it's gooey body splash over her paw pad like she was stepping on a sentient (arguably) droplet of water.
She wondered if stepping on those distantly tiny felines would feel the same.
The thought fills her with so much joy, she can't help but leap as close to the gorge's edge as she can. Teetering close to the edge, the morbid woman would suddenly take in a deep breath of air before shouting as loud as she possibly could, "Good evening my favorite drip-bellies! How's losing your tummy fat to the ice treating yah? Would you like some tips on how to hunt like a REAL cat perhaps?" She steps back and strains her ears to hopefully catch a response, hoping against hope that her friendly call would somehow reach their water-logged ears!

*+:｡.｡ Updated 12/6/23

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☆ Ebonylight
  ☆ DFAB— He/They/She — Pansexual
  ☆ 16 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☆ Mentored by X
  ☆ Windclan — Moor-runner (Loyalist)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☆ Physically hard | mentally hard
  ☆ Attack in bold black
  
  injuries: None currently
  ☆ Currently 1 moon pregnant!

​

 

[Marmotbite.]

♢​♢ THE BEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE ♢♢​

---

marmotbite & 13 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler ​

---

Sootspots comments sound inane to the mollys ears - tail twitching nervously and whiskers quivering, she can only find the irony in his words. WHo are tunnelers to comment about being small? Her height is something that bothers her quite often, dwarfed evern by many of her fellow ground-dwellers, but she knows better to comment - everyone has been on edge, more so than ever. She is not stupid enough to break that tension, to be the stone that creates the rippling wave. "Let's jus' get'er done, I'm hungry," she says instead - complaining is always a safe topic after all.

— it sounds so fuckin&#039; beautiful when you say my name ♡

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a shockingly tiny she-cat with pale blue and cream ticked tabby fur, save for a single patch covering her right eye that is brown instead, and mismatched green-orange eyes. she has heavy scarring along the entirety of her left side, from her face all the way down her chest, belly, and flank; which has been there since kithood. she is a twitchy little thing, known for her bad attitude and an unfortunate habit of biting when startled.
  
  — physically medium && mentally medium
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#9ab973]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[Bounceheart]

bounceheart ✧ she/her ✧ riverclan warrior (=˃ᆺ˂=)

Another patrol beckoned their aching body to the border. I will have all the time to rest when there is nothing to eat. That moment would come soon - the river could completely ice over at any moment.
Maybe the Stars would show mercy this leaf-bare. Last year felt different.. unsettling, like the snow wanted to suck them through the ground. The wind howled for its reprisals.
A flood followed, sweeping through camp. Bounceheart recalled how forceful the waves were at first - how they were knocked right off their paws and spun round and round. Then, the confusion followed - which way was up, and where was it taking them? Why was the river angry with them?

This year, she heard no disconcerting roaring through the trees. Instead, they were left with serenity among the snow-fall. And an awareness of their spirituality.

On this day, they were following unusually close to the patrol. No distractions called to her along the way. In fact, she was humming contentedly somewhere in the center of the group as they traveled along the WindClan border. First, they scored the bridge like last time. But they soon caught sight of the WindClan patrol.
Familiar with the formalities of a border patrol, Bounce wasted no time with scent marking.

In absence of Lichentail brute attitude, she would go for a different approach to the moor runner's cat-calling. She looked up at Ebonylight and grinned. "Aww, you guys want to be friends with us now? Cute! Sure, we can hang out!" Now, her tail was waving playfully at the chance of some banter. ​