horseplace HOLD YOUR HORSES NOW - windclan patrol

[Bluepool]

Going on a patrol with only one other cat was a strange idea, in Bluepool's head. It's even stranger when that one other cat brings along their apprentice. It's especially strange when they are cats who are so much younger than her, cats that she didn't know very well because they, usually, had no reason to interact. She can feel her pelt prickling with unease as she walks. She had no idea what to say to them. Small talk was not exactly her expertise after all. But that would not stop her from trying. "Have either of you guys ever had to fight a chicken? They're crazy little buggers!" just thinking of their weird clawed feet makes her shudder. "The claws in the end of a rooster's feet can rip a cat wiiiide open" she informs them, not really taking Thriftpaw's age in consideration when she talks. Its better in her mind, if he knows the dangers that they would face when they went close to the horseplace. "It's best to just stay away from them" she informs the two with a solemn nod of her head. There were multiple reasons behind her statement though. The twoleg with his big firestick was another but she was loathe to bring up a reminder of that day. She does not know how many lives her sister had left and she didn't particularly enjoy talking or thinking about Sootstar's morality. She liked Badgermoon alright but she wished for her sister to outlive him and everyone else in the clan by a long shot. Thats what nine lives were for right?

"Oh here we are!" she announces as they draw closer "This is horseplace. You must be very careful here, there are many dangers." Sometimes, it was worth it to brave those dangers in order to gather wool for a nest but she wouldn't tell them that. No use putting ideas in Thriftpaw's head this early. She looks to Gravelsnap now though, if he wanted to add something he could. It was his apprentice afterall. "We will just mark the borders then be on our way" no use doing much else.

// open to any horseplace loners but they might not be met with much friendliness!
@GRAVELSNAP @Thriftpaw

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[GRAVELSNAP]

The black-splashed warrior walks along beside Bluepool in silence, hazel gaze trained forward as they traverse the land. Their eyes occasionally dart to either of the cats who they trot alongside, but they don’t have much to say. Bluepool is so much older than them, and a lead warrior no less, while Thriftpaw is so much younger. They could tell their apprentice about the horseplace, but Gravelsnap’s knowledge of the corner of the territory pales in comparison to Bluepool’s. They do not have anything to add to the conversation, and so they do not speak until the tabby-striped she-cat speaks first.

At last, Bluepool speaks up, asking whether either of them has faced a chicken before. And no, obviously, Gravelsnap has hardly even seen a chicken, much less fought one. But as she mentions deadly-sharp claws at the end of their feet, the monochrome moor runner shudders. They can rip a cat wide open. The image flashes through their head, punctuated by blood and the scent of death. They wonder if any WindClanner has lost their life to a rooster, or if Bluepool’s warning is only precautionary. "Neither of us has fought a chicken," they say, shooting a sidelong glance at their golden-striped apprentice. Thriftpaw had never seen the thunderpath before their first patrol together; Gravelsnap doubts that the younger cat has seen a chicken.

As the lead warrior calls out that they’ve reached the horseplace, Gravelsnap moss along with her warning. This place is interesting, and has plenty of resources that they wouldn’t have access to otherwise—but still, the warrior faintly recalls Sootstar dying here. That was their leader’s first death, they believe. "You need to be alert. Dogs sometimes roam this area," they say to their apprentice, eel-black tail lashing. They cast a look around the area, seeking, searching for any signs of enemy life.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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[Bluepool]

She nods as she listens to Gravelsnap explain to his apprentice that dogs roam the area, expecting him to go on, to continue in his explanation but when he doesn't it hits Bluepool like a monster on the thunderpath. She realizes in that moment how young her fellow warrior is. Perhaps he simply did not know more? Well, she doubted there were many cats who were more knowledgeable about this place then she was! She was a frequent visitor after all. "The dogs get locked up with the other animals at night and get let out in the morning" she explains "That's why its safest to come here at dusk, when they eat their dinners. Or early in the morning when they eat breakfast." she doesn't want to think about what a dog possibly would eat. Did twolegs raise cats to feed to their slobbering jaws? She nearly shudders at the thought. Barbarians are what the twolegs are, and she would never allow a SkyClanner or kittypet to tell her otherwise.

"I come here often to gather wool for nests. It's almost like sleeping on a cloud" she imagines that once she is up in StarClan, hopefully one day far into the future, that she would sleep on an actual cloud. But for now, Sheeps wool would have to do.

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[Thriftfeather]

Thriftpaw tries to learn as much as he can. He wishes he was like the rest of WindClan; wishes he was born knowing everything there was worth knowing in the world. Today Thriftpaw learns about the horseplace and chickens and dogs. None of them sound good — but Thriftpaw knows how important borders are. This place and the dangers it holds are necessary to brave in order to maintain those borders. He takes the information in silently, nodding along to show that he is listening the best he can.

"Why do the dogs get locked up?" He's looking at Gravelsnap as he asks this, despite it being Bluepool who had offered the information, "Or the other — other animals?" What all animals live here?

He tries to imagine what it must be like to be one of them, and finds he wholly and entirely hates the very thought of it. Trapped in place with a schedule dictated by some unknowable force; Thriftpaw shudders in disgust. He hates it.​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 4 MOONS​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

Bluepool seems to be very knowledgeable about the goings-on of this part of the territory, and Gravelsnap is grateful for that knowledge. They have never had the displeasure of seeing a dog, much less running for their life away from one—they cannot help but pray to StarClan that they never do. They have been alive for hardly longer than a year, just barely long enough to have seen a full turning of the seasons. They aren’t ready to die yet, and especially to the snapping jaws of a predator.

To Thriftpaw they wrinkle their nose, glad that their apprentice is asking questions. They appreciate his curiosity, and although they don’t know the answer, they’re glad he is directing his questions to them and not only to Bluepool. "The dogs get locked up because they’re dangerous. I don’t know why the other ones get locked up." They shrug; it is a bit embarrassing to admit that they don’t know something in front of their apprentice, but they are also curious. "The horses might also be locked up because they are dangerous," they supply—they may not be able to recall a significant portion of their apprenticeship, but they remember the stampeding of hooves across the moorland. They remember being terrified.

The lead warrior speaks of wool gathering, and they cannot fight the smile that crosses their face. Thinking of clear blue eyes and the downy softness of the pristine white nest lining, the young warrior feels something in their chest flutter. They’ve heard of cats claiming to feel butterflies in their stomachs—does that mean they have butterflies in their chest? They nod to Bluepool, agreeing with her assessment. It is like sleeping on a cloud. "The wool is the only good part of this place," they say to their apprentice, flicking an ear for emphasis.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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