INTOXICATION, PARANOIA & A LOT OF FAME + bounce house patrol

[WEASELCLAW]

( 彡 ) His nose runs, his head throbs, but still Weaselclaw feels better than he has since his public demotion. He's been trusted to lead a patrol again, and he can only see this as a chance to prove he's worthy of wearing the scar slashed across his chest. The tabby warrior's sights are set on proving to Sootstar -- and the rest of WindClan -- that despite his altercation with the RiverClan lead warrior, he has the moorland's best interests at heart.

He leads a small patrol of cats past sweeping hills, head lifted. The earth is frosty but bare of snow, and for once, a weak sun is shining upon them all. He may not be able to feel its warmth through the winds battering his short fur, but its presence is enough to inspire a bit of confidence.

The thing they were sent to investigate looms threateningly against the horizon as Weaselclaw crests a hill. He stares in astonishment; it's almost as big as a Twoleg nest, as the barn he'd once slept in, though it's colors are garish. The thing is bright enough to cause him to grimace. "Careful," he calls to his patrol, his eyes steely. "We can't afford to lose any warriors. Keep your guard up." After a moment, he adds, "There could be Twolegs messing with this thing."

He begins to lead them closer, his body hunched low to the ground. The wind is fierce, threatening to carry the object off. It wiggles wildly, wavering like a mirage -- as though it's made of some non-solid material, almost.

Whatever it is, it looks, as Sootstar might have said, unholy. His fur begins to bristle as he creeps closer. If they attack it, will it attack them back? Twoleg nests aren't sentient, but this thing -- this thing is moving.​

@ASPENPAW @VULTUREMASK @Mantissong. @applebite

 

[Mantissong.]

( ♬ ) To say she was on another patrol so soon was a surprise would be an understatement. The wounds from the coyote's attack were barely allowing her to walk on her leg again and, already, she was sent out. But, given Hyacinthbreath's betrayal along with the sickness spreading like wildfire, a normal cat likely couldn't blame them. But Mantissong wasn't a normal cat, and her purplish eyes were narrowed in annoyance as she followed behind Weaselclaw, body low to the ground as the group stalked forward, slightly limping upon the injured leg. Unlike the former lead warrior, Mantissong's only goal at this point was to be comfortable, the same goal she'd been having since the beginning, and she knew to get that eventual comfort would mean to continue appearing as gungho about being together as the rest of them were and act like the perfect warrior for their queen.

As they crest the hill, cold wind biting through her wispy pelt, Mantissong's eyes grimace at the glare of the sun as it sparkles off the snow, the sensation making her retinas uncomfortable. She's busy with trying to find a way to avoid being blind as Weaselclaw speaks, cursing, silently, the very forces that somehow got her out here. She'd planned to sleep cozily once more but, no, she had to haphazardly groom her pelt and rush to follow these damned buffoons as they investigated a twoleg object. Even the thought itself baffled her, but she tried to pass the annoyed snarl on her face off as just grimacing at the light, sensitive eyes staring pinprick at Weaselclaw and gave a nod in acknowledgement of his words.

Following after, she eventually was able to find ways to avoid the annoying sun, eyes squinted and face scrunched up uncomfortably as they all stalked forward before the large thing loomed over and Mantissong's ears flattened. It was huge, only slightly smaller than the barn she'd called home before joining Windclan but still large enough to house some of those up-right beast. And unlike most nests, this one, this one seemed to roar with life and waver in the air, the sound nearly deafening in the still air of the fields. Her fur bristled, hissing with urgency, "You don't expect to attack that, do you?!" If he did, he was as mad as a hare with bees for brains, honestly, and she knew, if he told her to attack it, she'd tell him he was that crazy and then go back to camp. No way was she risking her other three legs for another one of Weaselclaw's damned patrols.
​

( NOT SUCH A BAD BITCH WHEN I'M ON MY OWN ; THRIFT STORE SWEATER WITH THE HOLES )

 

[applebite]

˖ ׄ ׅ ⠀⠀ millhaven⠀⠀ ୨୧ ugh. ugh. ugh. each step sends a wet, cold pain shocking up the length of her limbs, pawpads raw and numb from the frosted hills underneath. the molly pads alongside weaselclaw despite the displeasure on her russet - splashed features, thick cheek fur puffed against the chill. weaselclaw has once again been trusted to lead a patrol and she had followed with her chin tipped up, tail high — though it had faded the moment she’d trapezed through that gorse entrance, no longer sticking to the dip of camp and burrowing, warm tunnels underground but instead . . sent to investigate a twoleg object. she pads alongside mantissong, feels the same, burning irritation despite the way prim features remain locked in lax curiosity. she meets weaselclaw’s gaze when it slips to them, shoots him a smile that dazzles evergreen eyes. careful, he says. wasn’t she always?

through the haze of blistering sun above the thing looms and applebite can feel herself slow down as they begin to near, hair rising and back arching. its not long before the tunneler is half - hopping sideways as they pad towards the massive, billowing monument, tail bottlebrush thick. this thing . . it looked like a twoleg nest, something she had only seen a pawful of times, during the unfortunate outings towards the pines skyclan now calls home. this was slightly smaller than those the uprights call home, and it wiggles violently as she creeps slowly, slowly, forward. it wasn’t quite as big, and they didnt make this noise — a rapid fwip fwip fwip of wind beating at its heaving sides. emerald eyes blink wildly, alarmed, “ can it . . hear us? “ she speaks, slowly, ears coming to lower carefully to the slope of her skull.

surely not. twoleg nests couldn’t hear, not that shed ever heard of. but was this a nest? and if it was a nest, why did it shake like that? cautiously, the molly stretches her neck far forward, straining to sniff at the rubbery sides without drawing too close. mantissong speaks again and her head snaps up, gaze fixing on weaselclaw, tail poised midair, “ what if it attacks first? “ she resists the urge to take a step away, hopes the slightest quiver of a small paw does not give her away. what do they do?

༻ out of character information visual reference ༺

• APPLEBITE ———————— princess of the moors
  f. she / her : a small - framed, fuzzy red ticked tabby with high white & honeydew eyes. she is prim, delicate - featured with round, fluffy cheeks and long, curled whiskers. a peppy, athletic warrior of windclan who presents herself delicately, well groomed and sleek when not traversing the pathways underground.
  
  — voiced by amy addams. smells like honey and sun - warmed fur.
  — closeted lesbian, 40 moons ; open for a tunneler apprentice.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
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