i'll do my best |➹| hunting patrol

[sparrowsong!]

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Just before she'd left camp for the final time with the other cats that would be making the long and perilous journey to the mountains, Orangeblossom had assigned patrols to be carried out the next day. Frankly, it'd left them weeping. Sparrowsong was to lead a hunting patrol out to Rockpile―their first time leading a patrol, at that.

It wasn't quite that they were nervous, but in the significantly more quiet warrior's den that night, the small tabby had hardly slept a wink, struggling not to cry while they thought about their friends far from home.

Just before sunhigh was when they decided to fulfill their orders, doing their best to keep their head high while they stood off by the exit to camp. Raising their voice had never much been a strength, but they hoped their words carried far enough to catch attention. "I'm off to go hunt by Rockpile, for those that'd like to join."​

.

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[Badgermoon]

It was, perhaps, not a surprise that Badgermoon's sleep had been unsettled of late. In large part, this was - of course - because he was currently a prisoner under near-constant supervision, and the events which had brought him to that state of being were at the forefront of his mind. Secondly, though he was well-used to sleeping under the open sky, he usually did so atop a nest of moss, feathers, and sheep's-wool plucked from the Horseplace. Here, he lay on nothing but cool dirt, staining his white underbelly and paws an unattractive brownish and making his bones ache when he woke. I think I'm too young for these sorts of pains. the ex-deputy thought as he blinked his eyes open with the first whispers of dawn's light and stretched, being careful not to trod upon Curlewnose's tiny, snoozing figure.

Badgermoon glanced down fondly at the former tunneler, watching as his flanks rose and fell for a few long moments. Being with Curlew - getting to wrap around him in the cool, dark night - was certainly not something he'd expected from the upheaval of his whole life, but it was...well, it was nice. Very nice. Further thoughts were interrupted, as a soft, unfamiliar voice drifted from what he believed was the entrance to camp. It held, he thought, a note of uncertainty, as if the person speaking was not confident in their ability to draw others to them. Moving slowly, so as not to startle either of their guards, he hefted himself up onto his hind legs and rested his paws carefully on the lip of the pit, peering out over the top to see what was going on.

Through sleep-crusted yellow eyes, Badgermoon spotted a tiny chocolate tabby - small enough to be a tunneler, by his estimation - with a prominent scar and light eyes, positioned as if about to depart the hollow. Badgermoon rested his head on his paws, ignoring the complaints of his hind legs which kept him propped up. A hunting patrol, it would seem. He felt a pang of sorrow that he could not participate - it felt like a long time since he'd enjoyed a good hunt, and perhaps if he could help provide for his new...captors? Clanmates? Superiors?...they would be more likely to extend a paw of friendship to he and Curlew. As if. he thought harshly, after a moment's contemplation.

Apparently, the little spotted cat was off to hunt near a rock pile of some sort - apparently one infamous enough to be known by such a generic name. He wondered, absently, if it was anything like Outlook Rock. Then he tried to stop thinking about WindClan as quickly as possible, for doing so only made him angry, sad, and fearful. "Good hunting to you." he called towards Sparrowsong, trying to speak as softly as possible so as not to disturb anyone still asleep. Or, indeed, to make anyone think he was stirring up some sort of fuss. Carefully, he put on a tiny smile, trying to appear sincere but not blithe.

[ @Dandelionwish @QUILLSTRIKE - guard tags! ]​