border i feel your presence amongst us — riverclan patrol

Relax. The young lead warrior thinks as his patrol approaches the gorge. RiverClan's relationship with the clan of the moors has never been.... pleasant. He can think all the way back to his apprenticeship; he remembers feeling how tense the border felt alongside his mentor, and well, that tension hasn't really eased up has it? Even with the moor queen buried six feet under, the two clans continue to clash... much to his dismay. Remember what Hazecloud said. The fuzzy warrior tells himself, as he tries to control his limbs from trembling. His patrol needs to show RiverClan's strength, was he a good choice for this?

"Let's m-make this quick," The lead warrior tries to hold back a stammer, as he glances at his patrolmates. Two new warriors— one whom hasn't been included in any patrols until today— and his apprentice. His tail swishes nervously, and he glances over at the moors as a breeze brushes up against his fur. "...Hopefully we won't s-see a WindClan patrol t-today..." He murmurs and shakes his head, padding forward.

But as the tom pads forward, he catches something in the corner of his eyes. The sky is partly cloudy; there are a few clouds here and there, but most of the blue sky is visible. But a shadow looms over him and his patrol; as a cloud floats along.... and covers the sun. But this isn't what caught the tom's gaze, no— it was the darker shadow of a bird that loomed over them too. And it's not any ordinary bird, he realizes, as he looks up towards the cloud covered sun. A harrier flies above, seemingly on the lookout for any prey in the open moors.

The lead warrior looks away, ears pinning back to his skull.... the fur on his neck seemingly on edge. Why does he feel so.... creeped out by that? He takes a wordless glance at his three patrolmates, wondering if they.... feel the same way.

  • no need to wait for @PEBBLEPAW , @splashdance & @valesight ➶
    prompt: the patrol watches a harrier fly over a cloud-covered sun. why does that feel so creepy?
  • 82418929_FoLQDUUK9zQigyb.png


    credit to raphaelion (via da) for the artwork <3
  • Foxtail
    lead warrior
    23 moons
    warmhearted
    timid
    experience: trained
    backstory: [HYPERLINK]
    biography: [HYPERLINK]
    credit to trops for the chibi <3
    cisgender male [he / him]
    eyes: green
    pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
    fur length: long
    parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)


 
꙳•❅* Unfortunately for Foxtail, his hopes of avoiding WindClan's presence are in vain. Frostwind's twisted path beneath the moorland has brought him right to RiverClan's doorstep, and he doesn't bother to shake the streaks of dirt from his pelt as he pulls himself from the tunnel. Of course, the entrance is out of sight of the border, so any of their river-dwelling neighbors will merely see the tom suddenly appear over the first clumps of regrowing grasses. Pale eyes settle upon the other patrol without fondness, Rattleheart's fresh death smearing disdain across his expression.

The mostly-white warrior's attention is locked onto something high above for a moment, drawing Frostwind's attention to the harrier that soars overhead. It makes him want to flinch at first sight, reminded of blood spilling across stone and claw marks across a black-and-white pelt. A small, ginger-striped form unbloodied thanks to a WindClanner's sacrifice. His jaw remains locked as he faces the opposing patrol, standoffish for once. He doesn't want to talk to the clan that had gotten his uncle killed—the clan that had been so careless with their apprentice that a queen paid for the other clan's mistake. "Keep an eye out," he says to any clanmates who have approached, gesturing to the bird with a jerk of his chin. Other than that, Frostwind offers RiverClan nothing.

  • ooc:
  • 53394272_1siaxxi8SpjpePX.png
  • FROSTWIND ❯❯ he/him, tunneler of windclan
    scruffy black and white tom with icy eyes. casual and friendly, yet ruthless in battle.
    son of scorchstreak and badgermoon ; brother to scorchstorm, luckypaw, rumblerain
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    penned by foxlore
 
Against their worser nature, Downyfur misses Rattleheart. They hadn't been present for her dazzling fall, nor the moment talons opened up her thin flanks, but they'd been among the wide-eyed that'd gathered alongside her corpse. Uncomfortable memories trail them like hungry dogs here: they could've been a better, more amicable apprentice; they could've gotten to know them better while they had the chance; they shouldn't have missed Sootspot so much when Rattleheart had done nothing wrong either.

The rumble of the gorge river brings prickles of discomfort at best, spiralling sick and dread at worst, so she's been painstakingly quiet the whole ride there. Ahead of her, Frostwind emerges without fanfare, but Downyfur takes a moment to stiffly flick out most of the larger bits of dirt from her pelt before proceeding.

The mostly-white RiverClanner at the forefront of his patrol is easy enough to pick out from the greenery. They follow the uneasy pools in his face upwards, and they try not to reflect his in their own blues when they make sense of it. The fight to keep their face in check is not all that difficult, however; RiverClan is watching, and they occupy themself with wondering, darkly, whether the birds-of-prey have increased their own patrols here on account a particularly fruitful catch.

They draw closer to Frostwind, dipping their focus to the reeds before them while his is occupied with the harrier. The overlap between the smallest tunnelers and the largest rabbits is not a mistake, but they think they've long since come to terms with it. "Stay close together," they warn, mostly towards any apprentices of the patrol. They don't think they'd be capable of making Rattleheart's sacrifice for even the young of WindClan though. "We'll all look a little bigger that way, and harder to carry off," she intones.
 
⸙͎。˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎。˚⋆

Despite the hardships his clan-mates have had with WindClan, Valesight himself can count himself lucky that he has no sincere reason to hate the moor-dwellers. They are weirdly small, scrappy things in their appearance but are otherwise unremarkable. They act in their best interests, as all the clans do... but the fact they have broken codes more recently than others perhaps sours his impression as they pop up on the horizon with glowers.

That's rich.... a WindClanner chooses kindness and still his clan cannot fathom that his sacrifice was one of humanity. They dig their claws into the dirt, shove their heads further up their own tails and insist it's RiverClan's fault. The rogue-born tom offers a twitch of his whiskers as Frostwind casts a scrutinizing glance their way, only looking away to follow the sudden tilt of many chins towards the sky.

A bird...? Valesight watches it trail lazy circles overhead for a few moments as the sky grows darker thanks to the interference of cloud-cover. Hmm... This feels like a bad omen... It may be warning them of worse days to come, as the hours of sunlight grow fewer. "It's fine," he meows, tone dry and bored as it finds Foxtail's nervous glance. "Just stay together... yeah?"

He stalks ahead in a show of bravery, beckoning his patrol-mates with a fluffy tail to follow quickly after him.​
 


() he swears his mother is trying to do something with the patrol she has conveniently placed himself and splashdance in together. not that pebblepaw minds, rather he appreciates more time with his good friend. things have been awkward since her valiant rescue of his life. he feels weird padding alongside her, her fur shimmering gently in the sun, regal and stoic in her newfound warriorhood. embarrassment stutters his words every time he tries to talk to her, a reminder that he, blood of river kings, might've drowned but for her. as they linger a few tail-lengths behind the rest of the patrol, the boy turns to his friend, clearing his throat. "h-have you had a good day?" he asks, clawing at conversation in his head. foxtail's voice cuts through what surely would've been starclan's most awkward small-talk, and pebblepaw breathes out quickly.

he has lost any coolness he might've gained with splashdance over their four moons of friendship. he knows it, and desperately wishes to make it up. padding towards the border with cautious paws, the white-dappled boy bends to brush his fur against the tall grasses, bright eyes finding his friend again and beckoning her to him. he's gonna be normal and not weird at all and it'll all be okay.

the scent of windclan grows stronger, a patrol cresting a ridge and approaching their side of the border. pebblepaw watches them arrive, offering a nod to their patrol even as he feels a sickness at the sight of them. a shadow passes over the sun, sending a chill down the apprentice's spine and he glances up, finding the stark shape of a bird-of-prey as it circles the sky. "eerie," he whispers, ears flicking back as he glances at the rest of his patrol. valesight seems unbothered, foxtail anxious, and he can't yet read splashdance. beyond the border, windclan freeze, lips curling and voices quieting.


  • // " #848DAE"
  • 84189003_LZ0oLRva90zRWKW.png


  • PEBBLEPAW ☼ HE / HIM, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORED BY FOXTAIL. 8 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
    80821802_PGjjmLPeTFx5Nwd.png
    a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblepaw's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
 
Warriorhood is a new challenge to overcome. Whilst she's lived with these cats for many moons now, the adjustment to all new routines is a scary one, even if she had been so excited before. Her mind wanders as she tackles the freedom she's now gifted, eyes wandering the length of the moors rather than the skies. She keeps close to Pebblepaw, too. Where he feels he has failed his lineage, the she-cat does not. She did what any cat in her position would've done. The warrior does not think any less of her friend, though she hasn't the tact to tell him so.

"I'm a little tired," she admits, sharing a small smile with the tom. It's only been days since her move out of the apprentice den, but the she-cat misses much of her former den already. Or, maybe, someone snores too much in the warrior's den. She cannot discern which is a more obvious answer. "But I'm alright. How about..." She tries to turn the question to him, gaze falling to his, when the WindClan cats across the way speak. Some of their own do, too, but not in reply. In warning.

It's only then that she notices the bird above. She cringes, thinking of the life lost for Roepaw, and presses her side to Pebblepaw's briefly. Her gaze turns to the patrol lead. "We should make this quick, then." No use in hanging about to see if the feathered thing is interested in eating feline.​
 
Midnightpaw hadn't been there when Rattleheart had been killed, and she counted that as some sort of twisted blessing. The lead warrior had always been kind to her; she could fondly remember when she and her littermates had still been in the nursery, running around as much as their frail little bodies could manage. Rattleheart had always been there, resplendent in her care and patience. Always willing to let them climb all over her, telling them stories and grooming their fur. She missed the queen dearly, but couldn't focus on that grief when there was so much else to mourn.

The sun was at it's zenith when she followed her patrol out onto the moors, and yet it was still half-hidden behind stubborn clouds. The jaunt around the hills had done nothing good for the fragile apprentice, defeating her underdeveloped lungs just as it always did. She wheezed pathetically as she struggled to keep up with the more able-bodied warriors, feeling a burn in her chest that was becoming all-too-familiar. Midnightpaw wondered, for the hundreth time, why she had asked Sunstar to let her be a moor-runner. She could've remained complaisant as a tunneler instead, but the idea of being shut away from her beloved stars was just as painful as running.

The shadow-striped girl panted as she finally caught up to the rest of the group, tucking herself into Downyfur's side immediately at the warrior's instruction to stay close. Her allusion to the predator in the sky above had Midnightpaw fearfully glancing upwards, cornflower gaze widening as the shadow circled once again. She'd never seen such a large bird before, and it made her spine tingle, her courage yielding to the threat that loomed over them - literally. If anyone here was going to be carried away like prey, it would be her. "Can we just go home?" she whispered shakily, remaining steadfastly put under her unwitting defender.

  • [ mentor tag @REDHEART ]
  • MIDNIGHTPAW she / her, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 8 moons
    short-hair black tabby with low-white, vitiligo and blue eyes. petite and fragile
    hollowcreek x harbingermoon // littermate to whitepaw and grasspaw
    adopted by nightingalecry // adopted sister to frightpaw, witherpaw and deathpaw
    single, crushing on no one // currently mentored by redheart
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted // underline and tag when attacking
    penned by limerence@limericks. on discord, feel free to dm for plots.