KINGDOM OF CARDS — skyclan dawn patrol

[BLAZESTAR]

The morning comes cold and clear, though the sun is not warm enough nor high enough to melt away last night’s frost. The forest gleams with silver as pale light illuminates frigid foliage. Frozen leaves and pine needles crunch beneath Blazestar’s massive paws; every twenty minutes or so, he turns to peer over his shoulder and check on his patrolmates. Patrols to the unmarked border are relatively quiet, normally—there are no Clan cats passing through to mark their territory, after all. The lands beyond are sparsely populated, likely because of an astonishing lack of prey. This far out, Blazestar scents very little beyond the clear, cold morning… and a vague, irritatingly familiar scent that causes his pawsteps to slow.

“Wait. Halt.” His breath plumes before his face. He raises his tail in a stiff gesture, tasting the air again and then closing his mouth with the click of his teeth together. “That’s the scent those rogues who invaded our camp had on their pelts,” he murmurs. It’s sour, unwashed and with a core of crowfood at its heart. Should they journey further, would they find further signs of the rogues lingering at SkyClan’s borders? He gives the tip of his tail a terse flick, gesturing his patrol forward.

[ @GREENEYES @CHRYSALISWING @falconpaw! but open to loners not in the Twolegplace or the Horseplace! ]

, ”​

​

 

[GREENEYES]

Sleep still bites at the corners of malachite eyes with the early morning's rise, a soft yawn escaping parting jaws in a billow of frost-born fog as Greeneyes trails behind Blazestar. The silence that encapsulates the four of them doesn't aid in the sleepy droll of the patrol, a crunching of snow beneath their paws the only song heard in the otherwise quiet forest — still yet to wake on this leaf-bare morning.

Just as Blazestar looks back to check up on them, Greeneyes does the same to Falconpaw, though his side-turned glances are cast more often in comparison to the golden leader's gaze, viridian eyes searching for any sign of faltering, of stumbling paws. His apprentice seems to be holding strong, from what he can tell — Greeneyes can only hope that's the case, that he is able to make it through the whole patrol without another spell striking him.

He's about to ask, about to ask Falconpaw how he's doing — some quip about how early it is, perhaps — when Blazestar's voice breaks the silence. Snow-capped paws stop at the ragdoll's orders, a confused blink shifting his concerns. Rogues, he mentions. Greeneyes parts his jaws too, tastes an acrid odor he's unfamiliar with.

" Is it...? " he asks, before looking back at Falconpaw, searching for confirmation that he's uncertain his own apprentice will even hold knowledge on. Had he been sick, when the rogues invaded? Had he captured their scent, regardless?

A sharp flick of a golden tail ahead of him urges the group forward, a choice Greeneyes feels uncertainty toward. Are you sure? He almost asks Blazestar, but moves forward anyway. They have a job to do, after all, even if danger could be lurking around the corner. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  GREENKIT ‣ GREENPAW ‣ GREENEYES
  ── Lead Warrior of SkyClan
  
  ── Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
  ── Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Hackles bristled as the acrid scent of rogues flooded his nostrils. Feathery pelt like a thornbush now, Chrysaliswing patted down some of the nettle-like spikes that were riled up. Anger came easy to the chimaera and presented itself easier. It was almost ironic, the silken-coated creature holding such acerbic scorn within his mouth and his beating heart. Judging him by appearance was like judging the wolf by its gneiss-striped sides, as beauty never guaranteed purity. Chrysalis sniffed again, and immediately expelled it in a misty huff from his nose. It was acrid, putrid, every other adjective he could use to describe it.

"We should teach them a lesson. Perhaps not while there are so few of us now, but later." The same sentiment echoed through his throat even after all these moons, as though a vicious cycle that swallowed him whole, a vortex that he could never navigate his way out of. Born blind and unwilling to unwrap the wool that lie over discordant gaze, it was his fate to repeat the actions of forefathers. Perhaps it was karmic debt from a former life, endowed by merciless stars and unforgiving past. Or, perhaps, he just like this. Either way, the thought of rogues trespassing and attacking his kin filled him with a boiling anger that flooded through his veins.

Still, the chimaera-pelted tom stared out to the distance with a blank yet not emotionless glare. It was the sort of volatility found in the empty canvas, with the possibilities of anger and despair and repetance upon flaking paint. It was still yet not pall, a slumbering sea whose bottom could only be reached in sinking death.

( ignore thats its so late )​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

The young warriors on patrol with Blazestar slip forward, their jaws parted, tasting the air and grimacing at the too-familiar scent. Greeneyes looks to Falconpaw, waiting for his apprentice to confirm what the older cats knew for certain. Chrysaliswing’s teeth are immediately showing. Blazestar looks to him and nods. “Keep your eye out and your senses sharp.”

Foreboding fills him just then, like a thick cloud of smoke still smoldering at its source. The Ragdoll frowns and gestures to a pile of bird bones a few foxlengths away. “They’ve scattered, surely,” he murmurs, half to himself and half to the warriors on his patrol. His tail begins to sweep the earth in a blaze of golden irritation. “But even just one of them is threat enough. We’d better report this to the rest of the Clan.” He lets his gaze settle on the pile of prey bones once more before he tears it away and lets it linger on first Greeneyes, then Chrysaliswing. “It started last time with just a few scraps of prey, too.”

, ”​

​