NON PHOTO-BLUE — river

[BUCKFIRE]

"Whew!" The former loner exclaims as he unwarrantedly parts from the border patrol and pounces into the shallows of WindClan's border with RiverClan. Water showers outward in the wake of his dive and the brown tabby now stands to nearly his belly on the bank, the force of the rapids not yet strong enough to pull him into their depths.

It had been a long time since Buckfire had immersed himself in a body of water; there were streams and swimmin' holes where he grew up and he'd flock to such locations to escape the greenleaf heat. One of life's greatest pleasures was experiencing the feeling of cool, rushing waters cascading around one's legs. The breeze that rode upon the roaring currents whipped Buckfire in the face, spraying tiny droplets upon his nose every so often.

Looking over his shoulder at the patrol, Buckfire calls, "Jump in, the water's fine!" It was a bit on the cooler side, actually, but he didn't need to tell the rest of 'em that. It was comfortable after a few moments, at least. Didn't they want to cool their paws off after a long trek out here?

𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✹ . + ˚ · 　 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋

• mentor tag @SCORCHSTORM

• 

• 

  a new warrior of windclan, buckfire is thirty-two moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells of cotton grass and gorse.　✦

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[MIDNIGHTPAW]

Midnightpaw was perpetually tired. Being a moor-runner was hard for her, harder than it was for most. Her little lungs were fragile as glass, and she lost her breath quite easily. She really should have become a tunneler, or perhaps nothing at all; but she couldn't stomach the idea of being anywhere other than beneath the open sky. So she had pleaded to become a moor-runner, and now here she was. Panting, sore, and struggling to keep up with her patrolmates as they remarked the borders for the hundredth time. And now, of all things, the loner wanted to take a break to swim.

Disgust pulled Midnightpaw's petite features into a frown, eyebrows wrinkling as she quickly backed away from the water's edge. What did Buckfire think this was, Riverclan? Moor-cats did not swim. Her chest was still heaving with the effort of running behind her clanmates; Starclan forbid, if she were to fall into the water now, she probably wouldn't have the strength to pull herself back out. "Mmnn... No... It's not," she mumbled with disdain, cornflower eyes wide as saucers. "Water is not fine. Water is dangerous."

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‎‎ooc ♡ info

• [ mentor tag @REDHEART ]
• 
  

  

• MIDNIGHTPAW ✦ she / her, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 8 moons
  ⭃ short-hair black tabby with low-white, vitiligo and blue eyes. petite and fragile
  ⭃ hollowcreek x harbingermoon // littermate to whitepaw and grasspaw
  ⭃ adopted by nightingalecry // adopted sister to frightpaw, witherpaw and deathpaw
  ⭃ single, crushing on no one // currently mentored by redheart
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted // underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by limerence ↛ @limericks. on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The deputy watches a brown tabby form suddenly depart from her daughter's side, and for a moment she thinks the worst of Buckfire. Running off, disobeying orders, starting fights with the clan across the water... Scorchstreak can only think of the worst reasons for the tom to be rushing in the direction of the river. And the last two times a WindClanner had gone across the border with the neighboring clan, they had met their ends. For a moment, the tom is striped in blue, and then patched in black and white. Her paws move without conscious thought, driving her across the moorland at a pace not normally seen from the deputy. It only takes a few moments for her to reach Buckfire, coming to a stop a few tail-lengths away as she realizes that the tom is in no danger at all. Instead, he seems to be... enjoying the water. Peacefully.

At her side, Midnightpaw seems hesitant—contemptuous, even—in the face of Buckfire's fearless dip in the river. Scorchstreak wants to do the same. Yes. The water is dangerous, yet not as much so as the cats who build their lives around it, she wants to say. Instead, she forces her flame-streaked form closer to the bank with short, hesitant motions. Once, she had enjoyed the water. The wetland territory had been her home for a short time, so long ago now, and she has not yet lost the ability to keep herself afloat. But the loved ones she has lost to this river and the cats who call it home... lingering memories, stinging at her eyes like the haze of smoke from a wildfire, are too painful to ignore. "Water is dangerous if you do not know how to traverse it." Water is dangerous if those who live amidst it would see you drown and feel nothing. "RiverClan has been territorial over the water in the past. If they take issue with us, let me speak to them." She may loathe the wetland-dwelling cats, but she will not deny her clanmate the experience. If wading about brings him peace, then so be it—even if it makes Scorchstreak's entire pelt prickle just standing on dry land near the border.

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: apprentice tag @BILBERRYPAW @Brackenpaw
• 
• SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[Brackenpaw]

Brackenpaw isn't prepared for the sudden uptick in pace from Scorchstorm, she stares at the deputy with an unreadable expression then turns to look at Bilberrypaw with something a little clearer, confusion. They're annoyed that they have to exhert themself in such a manner to catch up to her, lungs heaving to collect air greedily all the while she tried her best to mask that exhertion. Maw clamped shut to avoid the obvious signs of panting, her tail raised in annoyance as she surverys the scene in front of her. All of that running (which wasn't really much running at all) was just because Buckfire was having fun in the river?

Unlike Midnightpaw they don't show disgust, their brief time in RiverClan had made them curious about the water, even if they absolutely loathed the clan itself. Though they had to admit that she was right, water is dangerous and she wouldn't think about debating her on that. While Scorchstreak began what felt the start of a lecture the younger calico creeped closer. Sitting comfortably on the land that was damp from the water, not comfortable enough to simply prance through it like the older cat seemed to enjoy doing. "How come they're so territorial over the water?" she finds herself asking as she extends a paw to bat at the water.

Their usual scowl is something softer, a pleasant neutrality that should be the norm for an apprentice. They have no desire to try and swim, they do have the desire to cause some kind of ruckuss though. a white paw attempts to scoop as much water as they can in an attempt to splash Buckfire. They smirk and resume their slow motions of tracing shapes into the water afterwards "so did you swim often before winding up here orrr?" There was always a little bit of mystery surrounding new faces and they would be foolish to not try and solve it a little bit with WindClans latest joiner.

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‎‎ ‎┌── Im just a dog ⸙ with no bite ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  ooc.
  
•  
• Brackenpaw
  ✩ they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 11 moons (ages on the 22nd)
  ⭃ a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
  ⭃ Speech, thoughts, attacking
  ⭃ NPC x NPC, mentored by Scorchstreak | Formally mentored by Bluefrost
  ⭃ easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ⭃ All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
  

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[BILBERRYPAW]

Bilberrypaw watches Buckfire with an expression akin to wonder. He had never considered that the river could be something WindClanners enter and enjoy, but when he turns his attention towards his patrolmates, they don't share in his happy discovery. Both Midnightpaw and his mentor speak of danger, but a glance at Buckfire confirms that he hasn't abruptly come to some terrible harm.

"It doesn't look dangerous," Already Bilberrypaw is pressing ahead, peering down at his own mismatched eye wavering in time with the motion of the water. It looks rather inviting, if Buckfire's joy is anything to judge it by.

"Am I allowed to...?" Before even finishing the question, Bilberrypaw is placing his forepaws into the water, only to immediately recoil with a grimace. The feeling against his paws is colder than he had expected—too cold, too fast—and now that he has removed them from the river, too heavy. As Bilberrypaw backs away in an awkward shuffle, he shakes his wet paws in turn in a poor attempt to dry them.

A look leveled to Brackenpaw is tinged with more suspicion than what one might consider warranted, given the circumstance, "How do you just touch it like that?"​

windclan apprentice | black and white harlequin | seven moons | tags​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Without even trying, Buck seems to effortlessly make himself the complete antithesis to every good, sensible WindClanner. Sedgepounce can't help but respect him for it in most instances. He's always chafed against his countrymen's tendency toward backhanded insults, or gossip, or haughty sneers—always holding everyone to an unattainable standard of which they only ever half-explain. Buckfire's ignorance toward all of this can sometimes land him in trouble, but Sedgepounce thinks it does wonders for expanding the clan's horizons. At least Buck doesn't have a stick up his ass all the time.

The hickory-furred tomcat lands in the water with an unexpected ker-splunk, and the instantly waterlogged look of him draws a startled laugh from Sedgepounce's throat. "Hah! You're probably the only WindClanner who actually likes the water, dude," he calls, stuck to the shore with the rest of their meadow-bound menagerie. He's grinning, but Sedge can't help the way the current draws his attention downstream, toward where the river disappears past the Twoleg bridge. He remembers the cold rush of it. The flooded banks swollen with rain and sharp with ice, the current strong enough to drag a cat under and keep them there.

Hazy eyes drift back to his clanmates before he can get too lost in thought, landing on Bunnypaw hunched at his side. "You, uh, wanna try?" Sedge wonders. It's safe, he thinks, at least in the shallows. He'd even brave the water with her if she wanted.

// apprentice tag @bunnypaw
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[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchstorm hates this border. She hates the river, greedy thing that it is, and she hates the Clan that subsists off it. Too many WindClanners have died at this threshold between what's theirs and what isn't. For each hill she crests, she expects to see a black and white and red, red, red pelt shuddering in the valley. Perhaps that is why she startles so terribly when Buckfire departs from her.

"Buckfire!" she bellows, limbs pinwheeling as she tries to chart a course after him. The small animal in her mind leaps one thousand times to a single conclusion: when she next spots her apprentice, he will be dead. But when Scorchstorm does get near to him, her heart a flurry of wounded hawk's wings, he is... fine. Upright. Smiling. Inviting her in, in fact. She makes no attempt to hide the suspicion in her glare — not of him, but of the thing he stands in.

It is a long time ago, now, that she had sat on a foreign bank with Iciclefang at her side, showing her the darting minnows' shadows, teaching her to fish. She had never quite gotten the hang of it. She certainly has less of a hang of it now, and has zero desire to ever gain that skill back. To have something in common with them twists her stomach; they are as cold and slimy as the fish they hunt. Beefang's spiteful giggle echoes in her skull, and Scorchstorm finds the urge to scold Buckfire has swelled exponentially, an uncomfortable rock in her esophagus.

Still, she cannot begrudge him completely. She has never had the most traditional interests — the journey had not helped her, either, introducing her to skills that she had never fathomed needing. Still, the anxiety needs an escape. Scorchstorm forges an arrow and looses it in even, measured tone, "Running off like that is not befitting of a warrior." But even before her words are freed from her teeth, she finds herself losing steam. Buckfire's excitement is pure and kittenish; unlike a warrior, indeed, but... refreshing, in a sense.

Like her mother, though, Scorchstorm cannot bring herself to near the water's edge. She finds a seat alongside her mirror, not noticing the way she dwarfs the other molly in height, and finds herself content to watch her shadow from a distance, eyes occasionally flickering to the sky for any dark silhouettes. "Hopefully they do not give us too much trouble," she rumbles to her deputy, gaze combing the opposite bank for any approaching shadows.

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ✧

• ooc.
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— lead warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 18 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[BUCKFIRE]

Buckfire did not expect to meet such apprehension so quickly; he knew that WindClanners were not known for a love of water, but surely they were not little fraidy cats when it came to gettin' their paws wet for a change. One of the apprentices voices her disgust at the idea of water, visibly shrinking away from the edge of the bank. "This? Dangerous?" Buckfire scoffs in amusement, lifting a paw and letting liquid beads roll off of his pads and fur. Scorchstreak was right; it could sure be dangerous if one didn't know what they were doing. Buck, obviously, was an expert.

The tortoiseshell deputy mentions RiverClan and their history of exerting defensiveness over their namesake. He snorts, "They can kiss my behind, if that's the case. Are they really gonna throw a hissy fit over a river?" Buckfire supposes it makes sense, but then again, WindClan should have access to it as well. It was a large source of fresh water; it wasn't as if they were interested in eating their precious fish ( Buckfire personally liked the taste of some types but he could also do without it if needed ).

When a sudden splash of water batters his tabby features, Buckfire ducks his head and lifts his paw to wipe the droplets from his eyes. "Hey!" The moor runner in training exclaims in amusement before aiming to send a spray of river water back at Brackenpaw with a scoop of his paw. To answer their inquiry, the brown tabby meowed, "Mostly in swimmin' holes 'n lakes. There ain't a better way to beat the heat in greenleaf." Some of his best memories from his youth and young adulthood were created at local bodies of water. He and his siblings would always have to sneak away from the barn during the day, otherwise Mama would worry herself sick. She never found out where they'd spend their time, thankfully, or else she'd tan their hides. "Weather ain't so ideal now, but who cares. Y'all should come dip yer paws." The male encourages, especially as others like Bilberrypaw, Sedgepounce, and Bunnypaw curiously perch themselves at the water's edge. The former had been brave enough to literally test the waters, though he didn't seem to find it appealing.

When the black and white apprentice asks how Buckfire interacts with the river so easily, the edges of the tabby tom's lips quirk into a grin. "What d'ya' mean? Like this," Suddenly, the moor runner in training ducks his head down, submerging it against the current and utterly drenching his face. The cool temperature sent shivers down his spine, his pelt prickling in shock ― a good kind of shock. The kind that made him feel alive. "Brrrrrrr!" Buckfire exclaims after he raises his head, streams of river essence pouring off of his slicked muzzle and cheeks.

Turning his attention toward Scorchstorm, sending her a mischievous look as he wiped his tongue over the tip of his nose. "Is this befitting of a warrior?" The tom aimed to splash his mentor, encouraging her to engage in some harmless fun for a moment.

𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✹ . + ˚ · 　 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋

• 

• 

  a new warrior of windclan, buckfire is thirty-two moons. he is shadowing scorchstorm. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells of cotton grass and gorse.　✦

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