MARCHING WEST || shadowclan patrol

[FLICKERFIRE]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Flickerfire hasn't been back to ThunderClan since Pitchstar had started shit with Emberstar about her medicine cat. She isn't particularly excited about this border patrol -- she knows ThunderClan, especially Emberstar herself, isn't pleased with her Clan or her leader, and she can't help but feel torn. Resentful. There's no reason she should be torn, and that makes her even angrier. Pitchstar is her leader. Chilledgaze is her deputy. Bonejaw is her medicine cat. That's it.

And yet...

She shakes herself, irritable and twitchy. "You heard Chilledgaze. Start shit and I'll kick yer ass right in front of ThunderClan. Then you can explain yourselves to Pitchstar." Her mood is decidedly foul, but it's only because of her internal conflicts -- she can't decipher her feelings, and her only method of dealing with it is lashing out at her Clanmates. She gives them all a moody orange stare and states, "That bein' said. Don't let them talk shit without consequence. If they start it, well..."

// @Siltcloud. @ebonyfall. @BOARJAW @BONEJAW feel free to post before them

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[ebonyfall.]

☽ EBONYFALL ☾

---

Ebonyfall could feel a slight apprehension coiling within her, but it was only enough to keep her sharp and alert—ThunderClan was nothing like WindClan, and yet the tensions still shivered in the air between the two territories. The presence of the Thunderpath, no matter how daunting, was substantial enough in and of itself to quell any thoughts of a true battle taking place.

It was a shame that her apprentice's first patrol would have to be done without her mentor, but Ebonyfall would get to catch up with Lavenderpaw later. For right now, ThunderClan.

"If they start it," Ebonyfall interjected, "They will be the ones sorry for it." Her words were outstandingly cold, and yet if one found themselves personally acquainted with the flower-scented molly, it might not seem so outstanding after all; as reluctant to incite a political confrontation as she was, Ebonyfall was not one to show mercy if the other party had started the ordeal to begin with.

And yet, she still maintained her better judgement, and kept her claws sheathed as she tread along the ice-cold, scorched marsh ground. ​

shadowclan, she/her, penned by cuzn, tags​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Cobwebs, cobwebs... somewhere they would be hiding, though he knew not where quite yet. How easy they were to walk into when you were not searching for them, silk spluttering in your maw, but once you wished to wind them around your paw- elusive. Fascinating, really, that they could hide- perhaps their many-legged craftsmen could detach them, conceal them? Not likely. He had simply not yet learned where they typically hid themselves- and perhaps there was a dash of misfortune stirred in the pot, that no spiders occupied the mid-air, revealing their silver-string creations.

Nearby- voices, and not familiar ones. Or at the very least, not voices he heard daily. Hooded eyes lifted up from their search, peering through the foliage- through it a fire-speckled form, dark pelts, that scent of what was once home. ShadowClan, unsurprisingly keeping to their side of the border. To overstep would risk inciting fury... something he doubted either side wished to spark. Berryheart himself certainly did not, much more inclined to watching from afar- though in his searching route, he realised passing them was unfortunately inevitable.

A hobbled gait carried him past, flame-flecks upon his fur peering bonfire-bright from the camouflage of his shadowy pelt. Green eyes scanned them- two he recognised from life in the marsh, Fire-eyes and Magpie. A nod of greeting was all that he offered them- he had not much interest in conversation with a mission at hand, and he very much doubted they desired niceties either.​

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​

 

[BOARJAW]

patrols... a necessary evil. boarjaw wouldn't find them so exhausting, if it was not for the social aspect of them. small talk of the weather, how prey is running... it's draining in the worst ways possible; boarjaw thinks he would be less bone-weary after running a full lap around shadowclan's territory.

no matter his misgivings about patrols, when chilledgaze calls his name, boarjaw accepts his fate with little more than a huff.

they arrive at their shared border with thunderclan, the foul stench of the thunderpath stinging the large tom's nostrils. it's as gross as he remembers it being. flickerfire reminds them of chilledgaze's warning to not start shit, threatening to kick anyone's ass herself if they break that rule. boarjaw blinks at her, unphased. "no butt kickin' needed on my part," he rumbles, already turning to do his business so that he could leave as quickly as possible.

at her following statement, boarjaw snorts. sure. if the ones across the border start trouble, it's always a different story. and boarjaw himself wouldn't hesitate to snap someone's spine like a twig if it comes down to it. but for now, he has a job. and that job, is to mark the border and get home.

movement from across the thunderpath catches his ever-watchful eye; a young tortoiseshell with a crooked jaw and a hobbling gait. boarjaw can't say he remembers the sleepy-eyed tom's name, if they have ever even met. he could say, however, that he appreciates the other's disinterest in starting a conversation. the less distractions they have, the better.​

 

[emberstar]

"AND THOUGH THE EMBERS ARE NEW, WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T LET THE FIRE DIE"​

Emberstar stalked through the forest, parting her jaws to scent the air. Her ear flicked. She had thought she had smelled squirrel earlier but now it had vanished into thin air. A shame too, her clan could use that prey this leaf bare. She'd just have to stay out hunting a little longer today. For a moment she paused, considering where to take her hunt next.

Then, toward the Shadowclan border, a familiar pelt caught her eye through the trees.

"Flickerfire!" The Thunderclan leader called out cheerfully as she burst unceremoniously from the underbrush. Giving a wave of her tail to catch the other molly's attention. She bounded as close to the thunderpath as she dared. Which was closer than most cats would probably consider wise. Her smile was wide. "How have you been?" she asked eagerly.​

⁎ ✦ ★ ✦ ⁎​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

TO FAR AWAY TO HOLD ME​

siltpaw | 04 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally easy | attack in bold #ddadaf​

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Siltpaw follows along behind her mentor dutifully - head down and gaze averted. She's still not used to this - to leaving camp, to the expectations, to having such a feiry tempered mentor. She wants nothing more than to curl back up at the warmth of her mothers side, though she knows she will never get to do so again. A quiet sigh as they pause upon the border, and greetings are exchanged, and the dust hued molly risks a glance up - catching her first sighting of any cat not from her own clan. They look not much different, though there scent... she wrinkles her nose, dull gaze quickly returning to her pale paws.