IN A PLACE THAT WE ONCE KNEW - thunder clan dusk patrol

[LITTLE WOLF]

The marshes had once been home to Little Wolf and her family, back when there were no clans and they only defined themselves by the attributes of which they lived. Marsh and Pine. Those were simpler days weren't they? There was no Thunder Clan, no Shadow Clan, no warrior code or borders to define them. It's not that she ever wanted to go back to those days, but she does feel a certain nostalgia when oak starts to give way to pine and the ground begins to get muddier, all signs that they are nearing the border they share with the swamp-dwelling cats.

The sun hangs low in the sky as they step out into the open, painting the clouds above them with hues of orange and pink that would soon give way to darkness and stars. She hoped they would make this fast, she did not want to traverse their way home at night, and she is looking forward to settling down and sharing a warm meal with Hollow Tree or her mother or maybe even her children if they were done with their warrior duties by then. She turns her attention to her apprentice, Ragwortpaw. They had been here before, on their tour through the territory on her first day of training but already she was noticing that sometimes she needed to repeat things to the gray furred she cat. Sometimes she is nervous that perhaps she is a bad teacher, but she pushes the worry aside and asks "Do you remember what this place is called Ragwortpaw?" while gesturing to the thunder path but putting herself close enough to the apprentice that she could stop her easily if she tried to run out onto it. There would be no fooling around on the hard black surface on her watch. Even if it was quiet right now, she knows how quickly that can change and there would not be an accident on her watch.

While she awaits her apprentice's answer, her eyes scan the sparse foliage on the other side of the path for Shadow Clanners. Most had a foul mouth and she was not determined to run into any today. Thankfully, their patrol to Wind Clan had been uneventful, she hopes this is the same and she sends a silent prayer to the stars that if they did run into any other cats that her brother would at least, for once, be polite.

@RAGWORTPAW @RACCOONSTRIPE @KINDLEHEART
​

 

[RAGWORTPAW]

This was her very first border patrol! So exciting, Ragwortpaw is eager to do her best and learn today. Deep down though she is distracted by the ideas of meeting a ShadowClan cat, they were pretty badly regarded- or at least their leader was.

"Are we gonna tell 'em sorry 'bout Pitchstar?" She investigates with a twitch of her nose, "since he died?" This statement would likely come as a shock, because Pitchstar has not died. The girl was just pretty confused on why else a deputy would be sitting on the leader's rock at the gathering, it had to mean Pitchstar was dead! The thought of it being a temporary ordeal to help out the swamp leader didn't cross her mind.

"Um." She feels the pink wrinkly organ in her skull shrivel up, she stops in place to use her hind leg to itch. What… was this place called? She wants to say it was on the tip of her tongue, but it's not. "Uh um… The ShadowClan border?" The blue cat tries, maybe her mentor's question was a trick one! ​

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Spoiler: RAGWORTPAW | TAGS

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· RAGWORTPAW, female — she / her
╰ ‣ named for her health & strength at birth .
╰ ‣ 5 moons . ages on the ??
╰ ‣ thunderclan apprentice . loner born . believes in starclan


╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, oak and maple trees , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue furred . long-hared . a very furry head, chest, and tail


╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝​

EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Hufflepuff, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Kind-hearted . Honest . Loud .Justice-seeking . People-pleaser . Gullible . Empty-headed . Humorous
╰ ‣ Though she is all brawn and no brain, Ragwort tries her best and carries a bleeding heart to all whom surround her. She takes the role of "big sister" with her siblings and friends, never failing to have their backs, take care of them, and defend them when needed (sometimes even jumping the gun). While she doesn't offer the best emotional support (not due to a lack of trying) she gives the best hugs and is great at giving cats distractions with her shenanigans.
╰ ‣ finds minimal difficulty relating to others . wears a bleeding heart


╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· GRIME x CINDERFROST, sister to toadpaw, prowlingpaw, hollypaw
╰ ‣ unknown sexuality.
╰ ‣ poor fighter . poor hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

The tabby follows at his sister's heels, tasting the air and marking clumps of wet foliage as he does. The frost has melted, and their undergrowth is turning into a sludgy mess, but at least they can traverse their territory again. Somewhat. He wonders if that will be true when the last of the snow has drenched their forest.

Raccoonstripe's attention is diverted as Ragwortpaw speaks.

"Are we gonna tell 'em sorry 'bout Pitchstar, since he died?" He has to hold himself back from breaking into raucous laughter. With a wheeze, he manages to say, "Yeah, if you see any ShadowClanners, I do think you should offer your condolences!" He gives his older sister a mischievous look. Her apprentice is funny.

His, however, ... she's something else. Stoic, which he can appreciate it, but part of him wonders if this is only a facade to cope with her departed twin. With the loss of her littermates, now SkyClanners forever. Raccoonstripe throws the tortoiseshell point behind him a glance, preparing to ask her something when Little Wolf speaks to Ragwortpaw. She asks the heavy-pelted blue she-cat, "Do you remember what this place is called?"

Ragwortpaw replies, clearly stumped, "The ShadowClan border?" Raccoonstripe can't help it -- this time he bursts into laughter. "She's not wrong, you know," he teases Little Wolf. StarClan, he's glad he'd been given Moonpaw instead...

He turns to @Moonpaw. now and asks her, mirth dying from his eyes, "Help your denmate out. What is that?" He gestures toward the stretch of dark asphalt and continues, "And why is it dangerous?"​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

It appeared as if the clans had weathered the worst of the blizzard's rage and were now mopping up the mess; territories were flooding, camps had to be rebuilt, and the fresh-kill pile had to be stocked to the sky in order to make up for lost time.

While one of the main focuses was procuring food, the borders could not be ignored. So, Roosterstrut trotted along the Thunderpath, lifting his nose to the air and intaking any nearby smells. Already tipped off by the foreign scent, he recognized the group across the way as a border patrol from ThunderClan. Their territory certainly seemed large and lush compared to ShadowClan's marshes and, truthfully, he could not help but feel a bit envious. Rooster couldn't wait to eat to his full potential again.

Rooster recognizes the faces of Little Wolf and Racoonstripe; he had never been particularly close with them but they still spur memories from the old Marsh Group. "Hello." The young warrior chirped. Still, he would always make an attempt to be amiable. The last thing ShadowClan needed were more odds stacked against them during this time. Things with ThunderClan hadn't always been the greatest and they didn't need to rock the boat now.​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

• 
  
• 
  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. sixteen moons old. warrior of shadowclan.
  —— laid-back young adult who utilizes humor and fun in order to distract from serious matters. he is a decent warrior, though he hesitates to take risks.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  roosterstrut is a vibrant orange tabby tom with pale green eyes. he stands at a height ever so slightly above the average. his fur is long and whispy and his tail is especially reminiscent of a rooster's. he sports a signature, goofy smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye.
• 
  

​

 

[Moonwhisper]

Sometimes she worried about Ragwortpaw, it seemed her mouth worked faster than her head at times and focusing was an issue the other girl struggled with maintaining. The longfurred she-cats response to her mother's question earns her a flick of the tail from Moonpaw who resists answering herself; it was hard to tell how she felt about the other. Part of her found the good humor a refreshing breath of air but the other didn't like Little Wolf having to put in so much effort training a cat who couldn't pay attention proper. She didn't dislike Ragwortpaw, but stars sometimes she wanted to give her a little shake and ask her to listen proper. Her uncle is enabling the others foolishness with his remark and she shakes her head, finding it silly no one had corrected her yet but it wasn't Moonpaw's duty to do so. Pitchstar wasn't dead, he just couldn't attend the gathering so his equally droll deputy had stood in his place.
Raccoonstripe's laugh lifts her from her thoughts, asking her now to answer the question and she can't tell if he's using her as a means to one-up her mother in an apprentice contest or if he was genuinely asking a question to determine her knowledge. Either way, Moonpaw would answer the same way.
"This is the thunderpath, it divides our border with ShadowClan." The tortie point coolly replies, keeping her gaze fixated across the border as a ShadowClan patrol begins to approach and one offers a friendly greeting in turn; she promptly ignores him to continue with a cold stare.
"The thunderpath is dangerous because beasts known as Monsters run back and forth across it and only it. A cat should be careful crossing it..." As the clan opposite them was all too familiar with. If any clan knew to give the thunderpath plenty of room it was the marshland cats. A monster was apparently so vicious it could kill a cat nine times over without even stopping, truly a terrifying beast and she was more than happy keeping her distance from it.


​

 

[Swiftclaws]

Swiftclaws wasn't as scared around the thunderpath as most cats, perhaps that simply made him a mousebrain but he'd seen that never did the roaring monsters on it's still black rock stray from it long as no cat tread upon it they wouldn't be enticed to attack. He still keeps his distance from it's edges, while he was unafraid he wouldn't test his theory by getting dangerously close he doesn't think monsters were the type to obey reason after all. He's walking besides Roosterstrut keeping in stride with his friend as they come to mark the border. He liked being up early, enjoyed the short period of time right before moonrise quite a good bit; the sky was always beautiful this time of day, colors fading and blending into one another a bright tapestry of colors that neither belonged to night or day. He admired it like he admired many things and part of him envied the warmth the other clans experienced during the day while Shadowclan still lay curled up in their dens. This time would be the only time he could soak in the suns last rays of warmth before it disappeared into the horizon.

His gaze moves past the thunderpath to the Thunderclanners who bare the likeness of it's name but not quite it's intimidating spirit, despite the fact the normal Thunderclan warrior tended to be much bigger then even the largest Shadowclanner they didn't seem as inclined to throw their weight around as other clans or well his clan. Despite their formidable size and from the looks more fed physiques (it wasn't much of a contest, even in greenleaf his clanmates and he himself stayed thin in comparison) he could take them easy-peasy if push came to shove! For now he smiles tail waving in greeting. ❝Yo!❞ he'd call out, he'd have asked much the same as his buddy about what was going on in their neck of the woods but he didn't have to.
​

( TAKE MY LEAD ; ILL SET YOU FREE )

 

[KINDLEHEART]

Kindleheart follows behind, the brown tabby staying silent, as to let the two warriors ahead deal with their apprentices. An important lesson before them, the thunderpath up ahead.

Ragwortpaw seems to have a long way to go, in learning the danger before the young apprentice. Kindleheart hopes she learns fast, hopes tragedy isn't about to come their way with a misstep from the kid. Moonpaw is quick to fill her in on the danger, thankfully. One can only hope it sticks in the grey-furred apprentice's head.

He can't help but find himself praying to the stars above that she does.

While they're busy with that, Kindleheart spots the ShadowClanners on the other side of the thunderpath. They greet them, and Kindleheart hesitates, before bowing his head in acknowledgment. "Greetings," he says back to the two.
​

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[smogstar]

Viscid muck has swapped places with the marsh's snowy mantle, and the tom cannot deduce which he hates more. Both would cling to his fur, getting all up in his business and tarnishing an otherwise picturesque pelt. But whereas the powder inevitably thaws from the tips of his hide, leaving him cold and trembling, the mud bakes into his coat and can only be removed by means of his tongue. Yuck. It's such an unpleasant season for so many reasons.

One would assume that the snow's riddance would herald in a resurgence of prey and freshkill-to-be. This, so far, has not been the case, and most of the hunting patrols sent out since the melting have been every bit as fruitless. It shan't be long before dramatic measures are taken, at this rate.

Ooze and grime marinating his paws, Smogmaw plods through the territory on Swiftclaws' heels. He has little to offer in terms of conversation during the trek, and perhaps it's for the better. It isn't until the group converges on the Thunderpath, when a cluster of ThunderClan cats pile into view, that he contends with an urge to speak.

"Kind wishes to you," remarks the pewter-tinted warrior, through an expression which does not correspond to the cordial nature of his words. He means what he says, however, even if the look plastered across his mug suggests otherwise. In the wake of the last gathering, ThunderClan is perhaps the last remaining clan to have neutral relations with his own. It'd be a shame to squander that, lest it be for a good reason.

A sigh. "I hope your leader is doing well," he says, before a dry snort accompanies his well wishes. She's probably faring better than Pitchstar, he imagines, sourly.​