camp LOOKING FOR THE PEOPLE'S CHAMP ↷ [ patrol assignments ]

[smogstar]

"Faces, I need to see some faces!" hurls Smogmaw, who paces to and fro at the foothold of Clanrock. Prying ears would notice an unusually enthusiastic twang in the deputy's words, for he typically carried himself with the magnetism of a damp moss ball, and intentionally so. Yet, in the wake of a string of personal victories (including but not limited to: bamboozling Sootstar, proliferating his influence at the last gathering, and learning of his mate's pregnancy), the tom has decided that life is in fact worth living. It remains to be seen how long this trend lasts, and if laws of averages mean anything, it probably won't be for an extended period.

When a gaggle of clanmates hobble before him, Smogmaw promptly delves into the lists of names and duties he'd devised earlier this morning. "It's high time to carry out some patrols," recounts the deputy, "so from here onward, my word is law. @GECKOSCREECH, you're leading a patrol out ThunderClan ways. Take @GHOSTPAW, @Rainecho, @Magpiepaw, @DOGFUR, @rosemire, and @Maggotfur. If you must engage with them, do so with decorum. Which means don't piss off the thunder cats, thank you." He hails those whom he addressed with a brief nod, before moving on to the next list.

"@FERNDANCE, you're taking @Wolfpaw., @silkbreath, @BLOODHOUND., @RAGGEDPAW., @GRAVESTRIDE., and @BARKBREATH. to our border with WindClan," he drawls on, looking a little less pleased having to mention that clan's name. "Offend them to your hearts' content. But, take care to not misconstrue their words with the truth. If the last gathering has shown us anything, Sootstar and her delinquents are as paranoid as they are delusional."

His focus then shifts to another throng of his clanmates. "@CHILLEDSTAR., you ought to take @MINKPAW, @Ravenwatcher., @BRINDLEPAW, @Tornadopaw, and @CHITTERTONGUE on a hunting patrol. The number of bellies to feed in this clan is ever-growing. A healthy fresh-kill pile is a happy one."

Lastly, Smogmaw's line of vision descends on a final group. At the medicine cat's request, he has put together a type of patrol unfamiliar to him. "At a later point in time, me and @STARLINGHEART . will take @SHARPPAW., @RIBBITLEAP, @Crowpaw., @Halfshade, and @loampaw on an herb patrol. In the case of further aggression from the moor-dwellers, we'll need to be stocked up. I don't know healing herbs from deadly ones, but I'm confident that Starlingheart will help us differentiate the two."

He sighs. "Alright, get a move on."​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ His paws bring him over immediately to the call of the deputy, long figure easily recognized among the throng of Shadowclannners. He listens with pulled forward ears at the patrols being given out and finds an inkling of disappointment that he is not among the border ones. He finds that he is to be on a hunting one and he casually searches around before finally moving to go with his group. The borders are always a hot topic and he just hopes things go well with the one seeking to replenish the Windclan border.​

 

[Yarrowpaw]

By no means was Yarrowkit eligible for joining a patrol of any type: nevertheless, the chocolate tabby tom-kit could be found padding quickly towards the Clanrock, his white-locketed chest puffed out as if in anticipation of some type of acknowledgement or assignment. When nothing came - of course - he let out a small hmph! of displeasure and spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen after Smogmaw issued his assignments. "Excuse me," he called over to the orange-eyed deputy, his three-month-old voice about as clear and strong as it could be considering his age. "You didn't give my m - Betonyfrost or Roosterstrut any patrol." it was perhaps now apparent why he had come over here in the first place - to see where his favorite ShadowClanners were going to go. Yarrowkit tilted his head, gazing at Smogmaw with puzzled pale blue eyes. "Why not? Are you saving them to use them for a special patrol?" for the young boy, they were, of course, among the very best warriors the Clan possessed. That the deputy had not given them a task felt like a grievous error in judgement.​