border NO RIVERS, NO LAKES [windclan patrol]

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The marsh clan’s territory sits in stark contrast against the bright color of the moorland. A tinge of disgust warbles through the calico as she slinks along the edge of the seemingly endless black road that separates the territories—how unfortunate the wetland is, without the gifts of springtime that WindClan has received. Though she supposes, at least the ShadowClanners don’t need to clean pollen from their pelts after each patrol. Her own pelt is laden with the yellow-tinted dust, her muzzle wrinkled in an attempt to ward off a sneeze. Being reduced to a victim of allergies in front of the neighboring clan would be an embarrassment she would not soon recover from.

Her golden gaze remains trained on the space across the road from them, awaiting the arrival of a ShadowClanner or two. Surely a patrol will happen to pass by while they check on the border; she rubs her cheek against a stem of tall grass to mark it, and then addresses her own clanmates. "I trust that you all will remain civil," she states, though she does not bother to take her eyes off ShadowClan’s territory across the thunderpath. She feels no need to worry for her own patrol’s civility; Dimmingsun and Slateheart are both levelheaded toms, and Pinkpaw is normally nothing but a positive presence at the border. If ShadowClan’s warriors decide to start anything from across the thunderpath, though, Scorchstreak does not intend to play into any of their dramatics.


// @PINKPAW @DIMMINGSUN @slateheart​

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

WindClan's border was perhaps the cinnamon tabby's least favourite, but it seemed the most common one for her to patrol for whatever reason. It was not a land that could bring mischievous joy to her as ThunderClan's had been, instead, Ferndance felt wary poking her head out from the dead plants close to the Thunderpath. Though it didn't stop the air of whimsy and recreation to her words, it did make them more serious, aware that the consequences would be her own children if the enemy decided to take issue with them. Making herself known at the very edge of the Thunderpath, the slow-blinking warrior offered an unreadable look to the four WindClanners who chose to grace their borders that day. They were calmer than the ones she'd known, but even the toughest bears reacted when pricked by a thorn. She chirped in greetings, alerting the WindClanners to her presence, before both of her ears fell to the sides of her skull. It'd only been a day or two since she'd last been here under the cover of darkness, but with the WindClanner warrior alone then, she doubted any news had been sent back to the camp.

"You know one of your warriors threatened to kill us the last time we were on border patrol, don't you?" She tilted her head like an owl, sincerity pouring through the lighthearted tone. Perhaps the WindClan warrior would be unabashed, prove that their nature was down to themselves and not their leader. Either way, she stared, curious how the creature would react. "Do you want to threaten us too? I can put on my mean and scary voice if it'll help you." The corners of her maw twitched as she smiled.

​

 

[slateheart]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Behaving on this patrol should be easy enough, considering they were without Sootspot and Firefang for once. Dimmingsun and himself seemed to have an ability of holding their tongue when needed, though he wouldn't really put it past the other tom to speak with a bit of fire when needed. Slateheart, himself, was uninterested in politics with other Clans. He thought himself a boulder, shouldering whatever insults came their way. It would be worth it if it would prevent a skirmish. StarClan knows WindClan didn't need more blood on their paws.

Ferndance a curious thing, a cat he knows only to be unpredictable and mildly inconveniencing. But for once, there is sincerity in her words as she speaks about a threat. Slateheart's brows furrow - he is shocked and displeased at this information. "I wonder which cat did that," he muses sarcastically. Sootspot? Firefang? Mintshade? Why was WindClan cursed to endure Sootstar's followers if they would not accept change? Slateheart points his look of disapproval towards Scorchstreak and lowers his head towards her. "Does Sunstar know of this?" he mumbled lowly. He hoped their leader, too, would disapprove of blatant antagonization towards their bordering Clans so soon after their inner battles. Assuming it was unprovoked, that is.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I SEND HIM A SMILE ⋅❁⋅ HE TELLS ME LOOK DOWN ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• SLATEHEART ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 19 moons.
  ⭃ a short-furred black tom with low white markings and green eyes.
  ⭃ son of LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE // brother to GRAVELSNAP, ASHPAW
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[smogstar]

There lies a discretion in the wetlands' rustic appeal that eludes those outside its borders. From the outside looking in, it is a damp wasteland of bracken which cannot support much more than the hardiest weeds and the occasional sparse shrub. Humidity plagues it throughout all seasons, as fog rolls thick over its surface, leaving everything in the territory's grasp wet and hazy. The land cannot be mastered like RiverClan does its watercourse and WindClan does its moors.

Therein resides the elegance of it. In a land that does not cater to whoever lives there, its occupants must adopt hardiness which befits a life lived at a disadvantage. Challenges can only be met by compromise and cooperation. In return, nature yields to them shelter and safety unlike any other clan. Smogmaw yearns to witness an invading force, if only to see his home defend itself from all corners, not a solitary claw unsheathed.

On another similar-though-not-quite-related tangent, Smogmaw puzzles over why his ruminations drift towards warfare whenever his eyes rest on moorland soil. ShadowClan's deputy lingers in Ferndance's shadow, reeds obscuring his sight for a smattering of moments before his burly form walks beyond the brush, stepping into open ground. As is standard, the cream-tinged warrior opts to engage with the neighbouring patrol, but Smogmaw is flummoxed when he hears sincerity in the exchange, no sarcasm or sharp edges.

Yes, he remembers it well. It was Firefang, should his memory serve him proper, who libelled his patrol in a manner that was a smidgeon out of date. "Don't go tattle-tellin' now," he speaks up, clearing his throat to make way for a louder voice. The remark is meant more for the WindClan patrol than his clanmate, though it could be construed either way. "She'd only vowed to rip out our throats and drink our blood. Pretty standard procedure. Worse has happened along this border, anyhow."

// apprentice tag @ASHENPAW ​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ ShadowClan’s warriors arrive, led by a familiar, volatile she-cat. "Ferndance," Scorchstreak greets the she-cat opposite the border, but the customary dip of her head does not make its usual appearance. There is no respect owed to the former lead warrior, not when she greets them in a tone filled with what the tunneler can only assume is derision. This has always been the way of the marshland clan, she thinks with a flick of a dappled ear. Mockery, to go alongside their thievery. Chilledstar’s actions do not even begin to scratch the surface of Sootstar’s, but their clan is not a likeable neighbor in the least. "We are only here to check on the border. Feel free to put on your scariest voice anyway, if you wish."

As she expects, the tabby-striped figure of the deputy pushes its way into view next, and Smogmaw’s voice speaks loud and clear. It is concerning to hear that a warrior would threaten ShadowClan in such a way; she’d thought Sunstar’s wishes were to remain unantagonistic in the face of the other clans. "WindClan’s standard is not what it once was. If you could name the warrior at fault, I would be glad to ensure that she performs her duties with more respect from now on." A list of seversl potential troublemakers runs through her mind, and fiery eyes narrow as she looks to Slateheart. He is a smart tom, though young. He is no troublemaker, unlike whichever warrior has supposedly taken it upon herself to threaten their marsh-dwelling neighbors. But he, like Scorchstreak herself, does not know the full tale of what had transpired—if ShadowClan had thrown the first stone, then she will always stand up for WindClanners acting in retaliation. No warrior of the moors should be expected to simply lie down and take disrespect from ShadowClan, of all clans.​

​

 

[dimmingsun]

-

And here it comes. The breeze carries the scents of the marshes towards the patrolling WindClanners, and from amongst the shades behind pine trees emerge sharp-tongued cats. Dimmingsun hadn't bothered to assure Scorchstreak about keeping his maw shut; he's not one to pick unnecessary fights and she knows it. Even so, he allows a bit of frustration to show through as Ferndance immediately takes the opportunity to yap away. Why can't meetings at borders go smoothly for once?

Smogmaw himself comes to her aid somewhat, and even though he is nowhere near Dimmingsun's radar of cats to listen to, a deputy's presence always makes itself known. It sits on their shoulders like some sort of owl, watching and waiting. Behave, it says, though nobody in this patrol needs to be reminded. Except for maybe Pinkpaw.

"Do we look like we wish harm upon you?" Dimmingsun asks without even a hint of deceit or mockery in his tone... quite unlike the ShadowClanners, he thinks. It's not a question he wants answered - those who want the slimmest of chance for a quarrel would look for them without prompting - and Scorchstreak makes her point anyhow. It rings true, and Dimmingsun easily slips into the nearby tufts of fur and sparse undergrowth to leave his scent and make a point.

˗ˏˋ ᴀ ꜱɪɴɴᴇʀ, ᴀ ꜱᴀɪɴᴛ / ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ´ˎ˗ ᓚᘏᗢ 03.17.24

• 
• ✦ OOC -

• DIMMINGSUN ⸝⸝-- WINDCLAN -- HE/HIM -- 32 MOONS

  ✦ Large golden-brown tom with green eyes.
  ✦ Penned by ˏ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙣 ´​
•  

​

 

[PINKSHINE]

" I'm the civil-est! " she tells Scorchstreak, even though she totally hates the ShadowClan border, because for some reason all the ShadowClan cats were like, "Um, know all of the worst things ever? We want ALL of those in our territory," So they have the entire world's supply of mud, and stink, and gloom, and even the Thunderpath too... Or maybe the Thunderpath belongs to ThunderClan and—

Her eyes suddenly go wide at this revelation. Is THAT what they're named for? The icky black path and not the scary sky stuff? She doesn't think that's so fair, ThunderClan already owns like, sooo much stuff. Why couldn't they be ThunderClan? Or something prettier like... FlowerClan! Or PollenClan, like her secret auntie Pollenfur! Maybe she could bring this up to Sunstar, or Featherpaw could carry a message for her...

Since she's so generous and nice, she's about to pass on this important information to ShadowClan, that, like, technically, there could be THREE ThunderClan's if they wanted there to be, but the ShadowClan cat opens their mouth first, and it's not even to share, like, equally interesting facts... It's just to be totally rude... Pinkpaw puffs out her cheeks. " Umm, that doesn't sound like us, " she says, even though maybe it would like two moons ago. But it wasn't two moons ago! It was now! Scorchstreak's response is very nice and stuff... so she should be a little sassy to defend WindClan! Yeah! " I bet my mean and scary voice is meaner and scary...er... than yours! " she boldly declares.

Do we look like we wish harm upon you? at the question, Pinkpaw looks to ShadowClan for their answer. If they said yes, they'd know for SURE they're lying. Either that, or Pinkpaw doesn't realize just how terrifying she is... She'd have to be put away for her crimes of looking so vicious... Luckily for ShadowClan, she has a friend in there!

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• 

• 

• 
  ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW: APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  

  SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  CURRENTLY 8 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH

  
  Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  
  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

​

 

[THORNPAW]

Generally, the wily-tufted she-cat could keep her temper well mannered if not void of animosity. Except when it came to the stench of Windclanners. Sure, the fox dung of a former leader was gone but a part of her could never truly forgive them. The many nights she had spent as a tiny kit weeping for the return of her littermates would not forgotten. Begrudgingly the blonde tabby prowled beside @Bonerattle and her father. Eyes trained on the ground and muzzle crinkled in dismay. Thornpaw hated patrolling this side of the border. Even if there was still a stretch of stinking path separating them there was always a chance to spot outsiders. Soon enough her worries are answered as Ferndance strikes up an uncomfortable conversation. Great starlight, can you just be quiet! Her ears flatten as the patrol halts to mingle.

Bi-colored gaze practically staring holes into the ticked felines side. Thankfully, her father's presence brought a small sense of relief but the thought of her last interaction with one of Sootstar's goons laid heavy on the apprentice's conscious. Slowly, she turned her wide-set face to the opposing border where the Windclanners stood. Yacking about serving justice to the cat in question and finally the annoyance prickling her pelt shined through. Yeah, right! Thornpaw's eyes roll at Pinkpaw's childish claim. Oh yes it does, do you forget your clan harbored the worst of the worst not even a moon or so ago? Biting their cheek the paw' forced the growl brewing in her chest back. She knew better than to stir up trouble, especially after last time. For now the barbary Shadowclanner would let the older of the patrol handle this nonsense.​