border I CANT RELATE TO DESPERATION ☾ RiverClan Patrol

[LAKEMOON]

.·:*¨༺ ☾ ༻¨*:·. The sun is spiteful in the way it burns against Lakemoons spine. Green-leaf had never suited her the way leaf-fall and leaf-bare do, despite the blessings the warm season brought.
After exchanging words with Hazecloud, the warrior had been quick to leave with her patrol, hoping to beat the worst of the heat. Despite her best efforts, as the group of five ascended the uphill terrain surrounded the Falls, she had not been successful in her mission. “Let’s spread out here, make it quick.” The tabby hummed once the rumbling of the Falls had faded to a reasonable volume, already beginning to leave her scent along the shoreline and the rocks. Not long after Lakemoons instruction, the sudden burst of what sounded like vocal indignation is quick to draw the lean-muscled molly from her task, and turn towards the commotion with a questioning glare. In her peripheral, she can see the pelts of approaching Windclanners beginning to linger along the opposite shore. “Keep your arguing down, will you?” Her grumble is low, more irritated than anything else. Damn children, yada yada yada.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── SMELLING LIKE A BONFIRE ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ LOST IN A HAZE ──┐‎

• 
  PATROL MEMBERS — @CICADAFLIGHT @CRABPAW @Hawkcloud @Magpiepaw (no need to wait)
  PATROL PROMPT — A heavy debate on your patrol has gained an audience! What does WindClan think?
  
  

• 

• 
  LAKEMOON ☾ she/her, warrior of riverclan, 27 moons.
  ⭃ lanky blue tabby with low white and navy blue eyes and a slightly twisted right hind leg. A large facial scar stretches from her right brow to her left cheek, and another crosses at her chest and stretches down the length of her stomach.
  ⭃ daughter of Tempestmoon && Lilypad ࿏ sister to Wolfwind ࿏ mate to Lilybloom & mother to Snowkit, Graykit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Crabpaw hates all the walking he has to do, all while the sun beats down on his back like a too-hot flame. It would be easier to just do more horrible fishing practice! (He casts a sidelong glance to his mentor as he thinks it, just in case Cicadaflight can hear thoughts with those big ears of his.) He’s distracted, kind of, from the patrol by the argument that he’s found himself in with Magpiepaw, so he isn’t really paying much attention to where he’s going. The WindClan border is getting closer, but Crabpaw isn’t worried. He’s with Lakemoon and Cicadaflight, so they’ll definitely protect RiverClan from any mean WindClanners.

Magpiepaw says something, and the ginger-splashed tom frowns as he raises his voice to reply. "Nooo, the sky is blue ’cause there’s birds in it!" And birds have blue feathers sometimes. The logic makes perfect sense. Magpiepaw should know—they’re named after a bird! He’s about to keep arguing, but the patrol leader speaks up and snaps at them for being too loud. His ears swivel back, flattened against his head. "But… but they’re wrong!" His protest is petulant, and foolish—he shouldn’t be talking back to his aunt, to Graypaw and Snowpaw’s mother—but he can’t help it. He instinctively ducks down a bit, though, hoping to dodge out of the way of a skilled cuff to the ear. Whether it’s from Lakemoon or his mentor, it’ll probably hurt!

i will sail ˚𓆛˚｡ reach the other side

• ooc: —
• 
• CRABPAW 𓆝 he/him, apprentice of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 mentored by cicadaflight
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragpaw & pinepaw
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

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[mourningpaw]

Mourningpaw doesn't much care for border patrols. These lands aren't belonging to her - not inherently, at least. She's begun to grow on the soil (beneath it, even,) and she cannot find love nor care for the windswept grasses and heather. They provide her lessons on how to survive, hold her sister fastly as if the other she-cat would fall over at the slightest breeze. That's all this means to her. She supposes she must play the part of a dutiful apprentice in the meanwhile, until she can stand on her own four paws.

She's long since left the tunnel she's practicing in, but dirt still clings to her silver frame. Her gaze narrows on the apprentices across the gorge, especially the reddish one who won't quit shouting. And over the color of the sky, no less. She figures herself the same age as the tom and yet he seems far more childish - coddled, maybe. Unable to see the desperation of the world around him. Is she jealous? Her serpentine tail twitches as her mentor rounds her side with a similar expression.

"Maybe you're color blind," she calls across the way, offering a new twig for the tom to trip over. "Maybe your blue is different from theirs. Have you thought of that?"​