MARK OF THE KING \ horseplace patrol

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw leads his patrol back toward his birthplace. His ears are pricked for dogs' grating barking, but the closest one he hears is yapping much further away than they need to worry about today. There's still its scent, fresher than he'd liked; he pauses and tastes the air, his brow furrowing.

"@sparkpaw. , tell me how long ago this dog was here," he says, raising his gaze to Badgermoon's. The look on his face will communicate, Not long, to the deputy, though he wants his apprentice to figure it out for himself.

Otherwise, he notes nothing unusual, at least at this section of the border... after Sparkpaw gives his report, Weaselclaw will tell his patrol, "Alright everyone, let's get to marking. Tell Badgermoon and I right away if anything is unusual. Watch out for dogs and Twolegs. You'll smell them and hear them before you see them." He flicks his tail, signalling the cats to spread out.

@SPARROWPAW. @crowpaw @Badgermoon @SNAKEPAW​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Badgermoon]

It was nice to patrol within WindClan's territory; though Twolegs and their wretched beasts were always a risk, and perhaps a more profound one than other Clans, Badgermoon had no patience for the typical insult-slinging and exchanges of sharp words, not today. Today he was content to allow Weaselclaw to guide the patrol, enjoying the steady beat of his paws against the soft moorland grasses, breathing in the scent of heather. Heather and ... dog? "Not this thing again. Isn't once enough?" muttered the black-and-white cat, slowing to a stop as the patrol was accosted by canine-stench. He met Weaselclaw's blue eyes with irritation at the intruder clear in his golden gaze, remaining silent so Sparkpaw had a chance to speak for himself. Could it possibly be the same dog? Stupid, noisy thing. he shook his head and began to drift away from his patrolmates, pausing to rake his claws along fenceposts, brush his cheeks against rocks, and snake his body past clumps of grass. How many times must we indicate that this is WindClan's land?!​

 

[SPARROWBREEZE]

It is yet another patrol that leads her closer to her old home and the final memories it'd held in her mind. Sparrowpaw is sure to stay close to Clawtail, the brown tabby quiet on their trek. Dark ears twitch at the yipping she hears in the distance. It's high pitch enough for the apprentice to know this isn't the beast, but distinct enough to have her ears threatening to fall, her demeanor faltering.

Another dog. Had the barns - the horseplace, as WindClan called them - been overrun with them, or had Sparrowpaw not known how many threatened her former home until it was too late, until she was removed from it?

And as the scent hits her, she can only question the same for her current home.

"Again?" she squeaks, eyes going wide. How many more times would she have to deal with these creatures? Why couldn't they just stay away?
​