border LOST IN THE GREEN [windclan patrol]

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The tunnels that lead to ThunderClan’s border are not in the worst shape, but their disuse shows in the way that loose dirt rains down upon her paws when a flank brushes against the wall of the tunnel. As she goes, she has noted the places that need patching up—asking Pinkpaw to scoop dirt into the right places, and breaking through clumps of flower roots where necessary. Up above, she knows that Firefang and Addervenom should also be approaching the border with Heatherpaw in tow. To Scorchstreak it is a risk, bringing two of Sootstar’s loyal warriors along to one of the clan’s borders (even if they both defected in the end). At least, she thinks, she is here to keep them in line. The calico pulls herself out of a tunnel entrance and into the sunshine with a glance to where the rest of the patrol approaches to join herself and her apprentice, offering the trio a dip of her head in greeting before her gaze shifts across to ThunderClan’s territory.

Across the border the leaves are growing back, turning green. And beneath their boughs, in patches of dappled sunlight and shade, sprout like multicolored dewdrops upon the grass. "Look at that," she says, tipping her chin to gesture toward the flowers on ThunderClan territory. "We aren’t the only ones benefitting from the blossoming of spring." She wonders, briefly, if ThunderClan has also had the springtime influx of kits. Flamewhisker is pregnant; how many other queens in the forest are expecting litters?

// @PINKPAW @Firefang @Addervenom @HEATHERPAW​

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[batwing]

Batwing is in the tree-tops.

It's nearly fitting for his name, though it isn't the ink of night, and it's far from safe to walk the border. His ears twitched, vision casting over his territory. Since the invasion of the territory, Batwing had been extremely wary of what predators lurked, taking his favorite routes amongst the wild branches of oak trees. His ears twitched as he neared the border, green vision turning towards the patrol that emerged.

Like snakes, almost, finding their way free of a burrow. That's rude. He chastised himself about the nickname he had given Windclan, though there was strength in the name as well. His head turned, searching for any scent or indication of they gray-pelted beasts, and he dropped from the treetop. Green eyes blinked at Scorchstreak and the rest of her patrol. His voice was hoarse, and he looked exhausted, but Batwing did his best to wear his best face. "Windclan. How has newleaf been treating you?"​

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"speech"​

 

[Firefang]

Firefang has no spare love for any other clan but her own however she hates Thunderclan the least, they didn't smell as nasty (with personalities to boot!) like Riverclan and Shadowclan nor were they infuriating like Skyclan, she'd also had yet to face them in battle. Her interactions with them were amiable, Rattleheart knowingly or not had avoided a otherwise unneeded dispute. She refused to hold her tongue at the best of times, she was itching for a fight verbally or physically, she's unlikely to find it here there's no appeal for her. She falls in line with Scorchstreak, her gaze focused on the other side of the border. There is no contamination on their end, Thunderclan thus far respected that much though she's still guarded. Not hating them didn't mean she trusted them.

She nods to Scorchstreak's observation "Yeah it is, but I bet we're prosperin' just a tad better at least" it was always a competition. She doesn't notice that they aren't alone, sparingly did she ever have a need to look up unless there was a shadow overhead the moors lacked the sheer amount of trees the other territories which was a good thing - but it was still a advantage the squirrel-licking clans had over them. Her eyes draw up to a dull pelted warrior one she does not recognize. She listens Information was power but there was no harm in bragging she doubts they'd take it as an invitation to come hunting (she'd get a kick out of watching the forest-dwellers even try chasing down a hare). "Our bellies have never been fatter" she smirks "and now that the Starclan-forsaken snow is gone the moors are as lively and beautiful as ever" her meow rings with a certain gloating quality to it. "You're allowed to be jealous if you want"

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  text
  

• "speech"

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  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 22 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

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[leafhusk]

unlike batwing, leafhusk preferred to walk along the undergrowth. her senses were alert enough to warn her of any oncoming predator, and she knew how to climb if a situation arose. the beasts that currently lurk in their grounds prefer nighttime, though, so it’s why she took her chances. there is no room to marvel at the beauty newleaf brings, her gaze won’t be settling on the flowers blooming or the butterflies dancing about.

leafhusk pushes through the bushes unceremoniously, while her clanmate dropped from the treetops. she’d scoff at his dramatic entrance if it wasn’t for their safety, so she brushes off any dirt he kicked up instead. windclan’s side of the border does look beautiful from here, though, she takes a moment to take it in. a black tabby speaks up, childishly gloating like children on a playground, leafhusk’s face twitches sourly, and she forces it to settle. the last few nights haven’t done her temper any favor, and she won’t give in to petty squabbles.

"thunderclan’s territory flourishes in spring, might i add." she states, tail flicking. "but, it’s so nice to hear the moor's have been treating you well." a sweet, customer service voice-esque voice rolls off her tongue, completed with a smile.​

 

[DUSTPAW]

જ➶ Understandably the young molly is keeping close to Leafhusk given the recent invading force. Honestly she tries not to think about it and instead focuses more on what she is doing in the here and now. Keeping focused becaused that is what will make her a good warrior, no, a great one. Especially when it came to outsmarting others. So she keeps her ears pulled forward, amber gaze narrowed slightly as she makes her way through the undergrowth. Though she can't seem to help it when her ears twitch at any little sound. But at least most she can identify as a prey animal and not something yhat will snap her spine in half. A shudder of fear passes through her at the thought before the sound of others distracts her. Blinking slowly the apprentice tilts her head at the invading smell of Windclan. They must be a passing patrol then. Hopefully not to cause any issues. She doesn't really think they would though, but even so she steps up a little beside her fellow Thunderclanner, more curious than anything.

Yet her muzzle scrunches up at one of them and she glances to Leafhusk as she politely engages. Only to ask a small question to the other of her clan. "Why would anyone be jealous of grass?" Clearly the trees and thick brush are much more impressive than a field of basically nothing but rabbits and rabbit poop.​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The shadowed figure that drops down vein the trees brings a quirk to Scorchstreak’s muzzle, not quite a smile but certainly a positive expression. The tom had traveled into the mountains and made it back in one piece, and so he has gained at least a measure of respect from the calico. He asks about WindClan’s condition, and she offers him a dip of her scared head in return. "Batwing," she says, "hello. WindClan has been faring well. Our territory, as I am sure you can see, is flourishing." There is no need to hide the truth—their clan has been faring well, and Firefang turns this fact into a boast.

Luckily, her patience for Firefang’s antics far outlasts her patience for Sootspot. The she-cat may be a former loyalist of Sootstar, but she has fallen back into line quite easily under Sunstar. "We should all count ourselves lucky to have good fortune this season," she states, fiery face shifting to the she-cat at her side. Don’t start anything, her eyes say, but she does not see a need to scold the warrior for her comments. They are adults—they can stand to behave as such. Her dark ear flicks dismissively as the ThunderClan apprentice asks why anyone would be jealous of grass, as though her eyes have skipped over the flowers entirely. Scorchstreak is content to ignore the jab—Firefang had been the one to begin composing their territories, after all—but she could just as easily see the warrior at her side growing irate with the ThunderClanner’s comment about the moorland. "It is good to hear that ThunderClan is doing well. Are the squirrels and birds returning to the forest yet?" She does not recall her time spent in the forest territory with great detail, but she remembers the moments after winter when everything seemed to return to life.​

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[batwing]

Batwing almost grinned at the soft side-eye that Leafhusk lended him from his 'dramatic' entrance. After all, Batwing should have perhaps lived in Skyclan. He would've done so well, but who knows? He settled quietly as the other souls on this border spoke, green eyes shifting towarsd the one who flaunted the grass. His eyebrows lifted, and a chuckle left him at her words, his head tilting. He was acutely aware of how Leafhusk was responding- amicable words with a sharp undertone.

He didn't pay much attention, choosing instead to respond to Scorchstreak. A figure he knew from the journey. He couldn't deny a type of bond had been formed in those weeks, despite how badly Riverclan or Windclan wanted it for themselves. "The flowers do look lovely, Scorchstreak. I can't say I'd be a fan of it, covered in pollen." Batwing responded truthfully, his voice smooth. Her next statement caused him to falter internally, but just so, head dipping.

The truth was soft on his tongue, easy to slip out. Were they really truths, though? "They have returned, though they do favor the branches. Most of the ground prey has poked their heads out." That, and the tidal wave of predators about to eat us, yes. "The rabbits running yet? Your... clanmate... seems adamant that your bellies are full, so I must assume." Batwing's tone was neutral, but those who knew him that were present knew that was Batwing's way of being slightly disrespectful. His ears twitched in thought, wry grin slowly returning to his lips.​

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"speech"​

 

[HEATHERPAW]

as heatherpaw trailed along with the group, he couldn’t help but watch the flowers swaying in the wind. he’s never seen flowers, at least not the kinds that grew in trees and made his nose itch. his allergies weren’t as bad as some other cats — the clan had been full of sneezes and coughs as colds and pollen struck them with full force. at the least, it was nice to look at, even if the colors made his eyes strain.

as they came to the thunderclan border, he couldn't help but feel his hackles raise. he knew that this wouldn’t be a hostile encounter, but seeing cats from other clans always put him on edge. he’d always heard they were nasty little creatures, trying to steal prey and the like. he didn’t want his clan going hungry due to the greed of another. it hardly seemed fair. "i would say the lot of you could come take a look, but you wouldn’t want to come over the border, i’m sure." the moor runner apprentice eyes the thunderclanners as they came around, his eyes narrowing. he wasn’t starting a fight, nor was he trying to be aggressive — it was just a fair warning.

———————---***LIKE A TRAIN ON A TRACK***———————---​

✧ STUCK STILL — NO TURNING BACK

•  
• — lilac / red tabby chimera with low white and green eyes
  — 6 moons old; ages the 15th every month
  — unknown orient. ; currently not looking
  — son of npc and npc
  — windclan ; loyal to windclan, doesn't understand why sootstar is gone
  — slightly difficult to befriend ; not quick to trust these days
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

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