LOOK AT THE FALL [ riverclan patrol ]

( ) the roaring sound of water grows ever louder as paws send stones tumbling down the side of the ravine. glancing down, willowroot scans the rushing waters, anxiety chewing at the inner corners of her mind. patrols to windclan rarely end well, and she doubts this one will be any different. sootstar's subjects seem keen to continue in hostility, and willow can say the exact same for cicadastar's kingdom. there is a perceived mutual agreement between the two clans that peace will never be an option. even something as simple as a border patrol often turns into a disaster of an argument. she hopes that between herself and mudpelt, at least, any disagreements will be smoothed over. it's hard to trust clayfur to stay calm when faced by the moor dwellers, although his reasoning is perfectly rational, and boneripple, while not a former windclanner, will never not be taunted for her heritage. still, over all, it's better than sending someone like cinder or petal. bless their hearts, those mollies are lightning fast to defend.

with a soft sigh, willowroot looks back at her patrol, offering each a smile. "keep your heads up, aye?" she'll suggest, flicking her tail. "we check the border, re-mark it, and be on our way. no arguments, no nonsense." she doubts any on her patrol will start something, but one can never be too careful. as the group arrive at the border, she'll gesture to her clanmates. guiding wagtailpaw towards the scent markers, she begins to explain. "this is the border with windclan. the scent of rabbits is their markers on the other side of the river. now have a sniff- try to detect how recent their scent markers were refreshed." to her, the smell seems about a day old, which means a patrol will be coming around again soon. stars willing, nothing will happen when they intercept.

@MUDPELT @CLAYFUR @BONERIPPLE @WAGTAILPAW
feel free to reply before those tagged.

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )
 
( ) As if on cue, Lizardbounce would arrive along the border, accompanied by the rest of the patrol. His face would twitch in displeasure as he spotted several Riverclanners. He, like the rest of his clanmates, couldn't stand their frog headed neighbors. "Starclan really can preform miracles if they can give fish legs." he would snort to whoever was next to him, rolling his eyes as he watched them marking their side. Even though he had lived here for moons, every time he smelled their scent it made him want to puke. How could they function smelling like that...he much preferred the smell of heather, and fresh air.
( YOU GOTTA BE SO COLD ; TO MAKE IT IN THIS WORLD )
 

Patrols were routine for Larkpaw by now, she was on the brink of becoming a warrior and Rabbitpounce seemed to have her more responsibility-focused rather than training as of late.
She doesn’t mind, though, not even when they run into several Riverclanners towards the border. Their scent is off-putting, no doubt about it, but something about it is oddly comforting as well. Larkpaw may never make sense of it, but she offers them all a friendly smile as the distance between them comes to a close.
Sage optics flicker to the seemingly youngest of the patrol, and with one of the warriors giving them such a detailed explanation, Larkpaw can only assume their still freshly-apprenticed.
She still never knows what to say on these run-ins, so she opts to stick close to Rabbitpounce and Lizardbounce.
”Speech.”
[ YOUR SILVER LINING ]
 


Her dark pelt sweltered beneath the sun's aggression, and it's for that reason Moorpaw scorned patrols during this season. Greenleaf has single-handedly bled her dry of the adrenaline which used to surge through her system without end. No longer does she recklessly bound around the camp on a whim's notice, sort of like a fox with its tail on fire. Perhaps, in a way, the change in climate has led the girl to mellow out. Is this necessarily for the better? Such a question remains unanswered.

Pacing along on pawsteps half-lethargic, half-wistful, the midnight-furred apprentice trails close to Lizardbounce's ankles. In the wake of Tigerfrost's departure, she has taken to shadowing the closest sensible-looking warrior in her proximity. She'd slow her pace when the three-legged tom opted to do so, and as the river cats emerged on the other side, she would adopt Lizardbounce's caustic demeanour. "Yeah!" Moorpaw meows noisily in approval, before scrunching her nose up in faux disgust. "Do you smell that? Smells like, uh... fish! Ew."

Had Wolfsong been present, her finesse in the art of insults would easily earn his admiration.

 
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Bluepool cannot help the snort that leaves her nostrils at her clanmates comments. They were right- of course- it was a widely known fact that RiverClan smelled almost exactly like the prey that they consumed. "It's like they always say, you are what you eat. I for one would much rather be a rabbit then a fish" Being a rabbit meant having powerful hind legs, racing across the moors and freedom. Fish were confined to streams and bodies of water, they flopped around gasping for air whenever they were exposed to the real world. At least rabbits tried to fight back. Fish were pathetic creatures, just like RiverClan.

She comes to stand next to Lizardbounce, keeping a keen eye on the cats across the border despite her jesting. Who knows, they could lunge across it and commit any number of atrocities, like drag one of them over and kill them or maim yet another one of her sisters children. She wonders if because she is Sootstar's sister she is also a target? No matter, she wouldn't allow anything to happen to her patrol members while she was there.

 
Trailing behind the dark-furred she-cat, Clayfur takes comfort in the roaring of the gorge. No enemy can leap across the border here without significant risk to their life—if one falls into the ravine, there’s no coming back. But still, the clan on the other side is WindClan, do the tom doesn’t think they’re smart enough to realize that entirely. Hell, they might just decide to try it anyway, just for the sake of dragging a RiverClanner down with them.

As they draw closer, Willow tells them not to start anything, and he respects her enough to nod as her gaze crosses over him. Truthfully, she’s one of the cats he respects most in the clan, and so he keeps his head low, lets his eyes only flicker across WindClan’s side of the gorge. Across the water, the forms of WindClanners file into view one by one, and Clay’s mouth twists into a faint, self-satisfied grin. He doesn’t see Periwinklebreeze among the other clan’s cats—nor does he see the less-expected Hyacinthbreath. Good, he thinks. Confirmation that the lilac tabby hadn’t gone crawling back to her former clan to beg forgiveness.

He says nothing in response to the WindClanners’ taunts, their venom-coated words. He doesn’t need to prove himself to them, to anyone. RiverClan claimed victory over the moorland cats already; no amount of unoriginal insults will take that away. Mouth stretching open in a dramatic yen, he turns to grin at Boneripple. "It sure is a beautiful day," he says, taking care to show restraint as he speaks. Outright ignoring the presence of their enemies is difficult, but it’s possible. "I wonder whether we could get some sunbathing time in when we get back to camp."
[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]
 
જ➶ She doesn't intend to start anything with Windclan. At least not unless it is absolutely necessary. She is sure they have learned their lesson given how Riverclan struck back against them. Still she gives a small nod towards Willowroot as she tells them to not start anything and keep it moving with marking the border. The other woman js teaching her apprentice and she wonders when she will get her own. Having been in Riverclan for a while she yearns to do something productive. But she supposes her time will come. As she begins to mark the border as if on que the heathens arrive. And she angles her ears forward though she can hardly hear them across the gorge. Though she can already guess at what they might be saying. Acting like kits with their less than unique insults. Amusement twinkles in her molten hues before she turns to look at Clayfur then whom speaks to her about the day and she chuckles softly. "It is a beautiful day and I'm sure it's because Riverclan is highly favored Starclan." Her tail shifts as she continues to trek down the border.

"I could go for a nice sunbathe. Hopefully we can find some well warmed rocks." Just like with Clayfur she can easily ignore kittens. She has no need to go back and forth with them. Afterall their actions just make her think they are trying to nurse their wounded pride in all of this.
 
"Silly little fish..." Azaleapaw says as she stalks through the grass. She studies the Riverclanners, making note of each of their faces. She's seen Boneripple before...She knows Willowroot.... Recognizes Mudpelt... Who's this other guy. What was his name. She's sure she's seen him at least once before, or maybe she's beginning to think tabbies all look the same. All in all, her goal is the same. Scour the faces on every patrol to find the one who hurt Periwinklebreeze.

"It certainly is a beautiful day...." Her eyes drift to the young apprentice with them. Her gaze lingers on Wagtailpaw and she grins maliciously with an equally malicious chuckle. "Would be an incredible day for fishing."

She does not act on that threat however. She knows better. She lets her gaze linger on the opposing patrol before she continues to mark the border.​
 


It wasn't often that Rattleheart tagged along on border patrols, more than content to mark the borders on his own when he emerged from the tunnels. However, he had been making an effort to learn more about what Lizardbounce did on a day-to-day basis. He'd never mourned the fact that he had been made a tunneler over a moor runner, but he did have to admit there was some sadness there. Sorrow caused by the fact that Lizardbounce was so often separated from himself and Scorchstreak by their differing roles in the group - at least they were always together when they got back to camp.

He'd trailed behind his brother and the rest, checking over old rabbit hides in the ground before an overwhelmingly salty smell assaulted his noise. Slimey and unpleasant, just like the clan whose coats the scent clung to. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he settled near Azaleapaw, a soft snort leaving him as he heard the apprentice's faux threat. As much as he usually would have discouraged causing other trouble with other groups, Riverclan was asking for it. They had already harmed so many Windclanners, not to mention threatening a child for their little games. He probably wouldn't have ended up shedding a single tear if one of them went plunging into the ravine unexpectedly.

It was easy enough to mutter in Azaleapaw's direction, his voice low enough that he couldn't realistically be heard across the gap between them, "The little fish are no fun - best not to stoop to their level. The rest, though..." His gaze flicked across each of the Riverclan warriors that stood there, making note of their faces for the future. Rattleheart couldn't help but wonder if any of them had been present in the patrol that had attacked Cottonpaw, his tail lashing at the thought of any of them digging their claws into the poor apprentice's face. "...Starclan can swallow them up beneath the waves they love so much." His tone was bitter, hissed out venomously before he turned to join the others in marking their side of the border.
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 
Wagtailpaw's nose wrinkled at the almost-bitter scent of the rabbit-eaters, as it seemed almost more thready than the rich aroma of the salmon and trout, as though there were more fur and string than meat and fat. He wondered, briefly, if Windclan even drank water and how they could survive if they could not swim. At WIllowroot's request, the longhaired apprentice ducked down and took another sniff at the marked border. Just as he was about to open his mouth, the pitter-patter of drizzle without clouds befell his ears. Quickly, his eyes turned towards the approaching Windclanners, and they looked just as mean as everyone said they would be. Their footsteps rang fleet and their tongues lashed serpentine, like some sorts of flying snakes, both snappy and flighty. That was how the boy imagined it, anyhow, and such an imaginary pest was irritating nonetheless. Especially at that weird Windclanner with the villainous grin! What was she planning to do, eat him alive? His gaze fell to the ground, heavy enough to bat around with his own heavyset paws. "U-Uh... Hi... 'S good day to fish..." He stammered.
 
( ) as expected, it doesn't take long for the hares to crawl out of their grasses. windclan scent grows stronger as wagtailpaw begins to speak. biting words are flung across the rushing water as more and more long legged warriors appear- quite a sizable patrol. willowroot half wonders if windclan is finally feeling threatened by their neighbors. she tries not to think of a small body struggling in smokethroat's jaws, or the rumors that he would've ripped cottonpaw's eye out. windclan has to learn some time. besides, the apprentice was not blameless (is what she tells herself.)

as the warriors of windclan attempt to rattle her apprentice, willowroot wraps her tail across his shoulders and shoots a thankful glance at her patrol. they are all mature, confident warriors. clayfur outright ignores the unwanted conversationalists, with boneripple following suit. as wagtailpaw stammers out a reply to one of the windclanners, the smoke will attempt to guide him away from the gathering enemies and further down the border. "the little rabbits on that side love to squeak out threats. don't let them get to you," she tells him, removing her tail but remaining reassuringly close by. following her patrol as they mark their border, she'll murmur low, "i can't help but notice they've sent a rather large patrol. seems they're a bit more skittish than they'd like us to think." then, with a snort, she returns to normal volume. "indeed, an excellent day for fishing," she agrees with her apprentice.

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )