on the road again (thunderclan patrol)

[HOWLINGSTAR]

// @Flycatcher @LITTLE WOLF @skypaw .
You can post before these cats!

The sun now rises closer to the sky's peak, all of the morning's dew now burnt off the grass. The greenleaf air is heavy, humid, and Howlingstar comments wearily, "I do hope we get a good rainstorm soon....it would make the air easier to breathe." Rains bring flowing creeks and lush foliage, and they break the suffocating moisture that hangs in the air. Frankly, she'd pray for a good pour right about now.

Her white paws dirty themselves in the damp creek-bed as she crosses the shallow water. The ShadowClan border had fortunately been quiet, not a warrior in sight on the other side. She hopes the WindClan border is the same...she hasn't seen a group of them since she'd denied them passage to attack SkyClan. Though she's apprehensive, she knows she cannot bend. She draws herself up to her full, unimpressive height, chin held high with dignity as they approach the twoleg path that marks their border with the moorland. Immediately, she gets to work, rubbing her body along the nearby clumps of fern.​

 

[Flycatcher]

The humidity feels stifling today. The morning had felt cooler but the longer they had patrolled the warmer it had become. They had been fortunate to not encounter any ShadowClan cats along their border and he only hoped things would be the same on the WindClan border. Things had been largely quiet since Howlingstar denied them permission to cross their land to get to SkyClan. He hopes tempers do not bubble over under the oppressive heat.

"I think we'd all appreciate some rain right about now," Flycatcher chuckled in agreement, lifting his head to rub his cheek against a bush. The deputy steps back and looks around to see if Shinepaw is close by, hoping that his apprentice is conducting his duties without issue. "Hopefully we won't encounter too much trouble here if at all." Flycatcher mused, speaking in a voice that would have only been heard by his patrol. ​

 

[Mouseflight]

Nose wrinkled as Mousepaw got close to the border, the strong scent of the forest already something he disliked, but the multiple bodies that smelled strongly of the trees caused him to lash his tail and pin his ears to his head. He'd been wanting to help mark the border for a bit, and had been excited to go when his mentor had gone with a patrol, but the fact that there were ThunderClanners here left a bad taste in Mousepaw's mouth. Of course they wouldn't leave the border alone - especially with what had happened recently - but they couldn't have waited?

Ears pinned to the top of the calico's skull as he moved closer to the path, eyes squinting as he sees who's there before continuing on, helping to mark WindClan's side of the path. He'd out-mark the ThunderClanners, he'd make sure of it.

OOC INTERACTION FIGHTING 彡⛧

• [ooc] text
  
• dislikes anyone outside of windclan
  if known to be a kittypet or skyclanner, will immediately hate
  is a bully
  -------------------------------------------
  friendly/non-violent powerplay okay
  tag if needed/wanted in a thread
• dirty fighter
  likely to attack first
  will "accidentally" try to kill character if skyclanner or kittypet
  mention when attacking please

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

The ThunderClan border is one that Scorchstreak has seen many times before, and the sight never gets any better. Trees blot out the sky—the sky that they had once shrunk away from, but now embrace with glee—and the calico cannot help but to wish that the neighboring clan’s territory would catch fire again soon. They step closer to the border, but stop short a fox-length away.

Their golden gaze flicks to the blue-furred feline at their side. "Stay away from the border," they mutter to their apprentice. Cottonpaw does not have a good track record with the borders of other clans, and though Scorchstreak would love to rip into the pelts of these ThunderClan cats, they know that WindClan doesn’t need any more fights until their warriors have fully healed. They do not acknowledge the ThunderClan cats, but they watch as Mousepaw approaches the path that marks the border between their clans. No apprentices will be snatched across the border under their watch.

// apprentice tag @cottonpaw​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw is not far from Scorchstreak and Mousepaw, and his gaze is as scornful upon the ThunderClan leader’s patrol as his co-lead warrior’s is. The tabby will not forget the choice Howlingstar made that night. His mate had lost a life because of her, though no one in ThunderClan knows this—and he’ll be damned if they will. The tabby gives each cat on the patrol a resentful look, itching to spring toward one of the stockier warriors and bowl them over. Perhaps a few well-placed blows would teach them to make better choices…

Of course, he does none of this. The tabby watches Mousepaw diligently mark, watches Scorchstreak murmur to his daughter to keep clear of the border. He twitches an ear with approval before turning to @HOLLYPAW. “This is a border you know well by now,” he mutters. “That may come in handy someday.” He does not speak this loudly, though a straining ear might have caught it; regardless, he does not elaborate, nor does he openly challenge the ThunderClan leader or deputy.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[HOLLYPAW---]

☽༺♰༻☾​

the patrol drew close to the thunderclan border, this time it seemed their party was filled with cats much less lively. a tabby stood pridefully, chin tilted, marking the border quietly. another thunderclanner was not far behind. blue and white, he bore such a resemblance to juniperpaw that hollypaw found herself checking again, just to make sure it wasn't her brother.

her mind wandered down a path that would only serve to torture itself. one that questioned if this tom looked anything like her father, if witnessing flycatcher would allow her to create a fuller picture in her mind. juniperpaw was always remarked for their likeness, but he was a child, boyish in so many aspects she struggled to imagine him seasoned and grown into star filled pawsteps.

weaselclaw speaks, and green lasers cease fire from the moorlands. tufted ears twitch as she leaves something akin to a dreamy state, blinking and forcing a nod, unable to conjure words. hollypaw suddenly felt silly for her thought, she scolded herself for even momentarily comparing the greatness of juniperfrost to a thunderclanner. shallowly, the apprentice nods at her mentor's words and follows his stride to mark the border. her eyes did not wander again, forcibly held on windclan's side.
​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

In the ideal world, Sootspot may have ignored the pitter-patter of paws above and carried on with his tunneling duties, but the world had not been so ideal as of late. Following the moor-runner patrol, the long-furred tom brushed away the earthy remains on his paws by dragging them along the tall grasses as he moved. There was a polite smile at first, keeping the peace when so many threatened it but, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a chocolate tabby with eyes angrier than any dog's. It was confusing, so many times whilst he was on patrol underground, Sootspot would run through different scenarios in his brain, trying to connect any missing dots and make sense of things that seemed nonsensical. Feeling ThunderClan's gaze upon him, however fleeting, Sootspot struggled to figure out what had caused his... not-father to react so negatively to the mere sight of the forest-dwellers. Were secrets being kept from him again? He imagined the younger brood would know, as vexing as it would be to get his information from them. The male observed Weaselclaw's expression and subconsciously mirrored it, offering a dismissive flick of his tail to the ThunderClanners before continuing on his way.


​

 

[LITTLE WOLF]

"SPEECH"
She had been quite touched to have been chosen for this patrol, it was nice to be by her mothers side, to watch her kit train under her, and to be with a friend. At Howlingstar's words she would nod her head. A nice storm would be very welcome right now. The rain would be warm, there would be respite there she knows, but it would still feel good to let it wash the dust away and wet the land that was quickly drying under the oppressive green-leaf sun. Like the others, she is grateful for the quiet at ShadowClan's border. With their own recent troubles it was likely that they were busy with rebuilding. Her heart goes out for the cats that inhabit her old home but she does not allow her mind to dwell too long on it. There were other, more important, things to be worrying about after all.

As they approach WindClan's border, she finds herself tensing. These cats too were once friends, colony mates for those who once lived in the Marsh Group alongside her and her family. But all that has been forgotten in favor of shedding blood. Her eyes flicker to the apprentices first, one marks the border while one keeps her eyes on Flycatcher, and then she turns her attention to the adults present. None of them address ThunderClan directly so she says nothing to them either. Instead she goes to stand next to her mother, Howlingstar, giving her a gentle flick of her tail before going to mark another part of the border.
​

 

[Flycatcher]

It doesn't take long for WindClan cats to appear from their side of the border. Flycatcher instinctively looks across the cats who arrived, noting a few familiar faces and a few younger cats he does not. He's slightly disappointed not to see Badgermoon on patrol, finding WindClan's deputy to be far more tolerable than the majority of his clanmates.

Although WindClan does not say anything to them, Flycatcher at least gives them a dip of acknowledgement, before returning to the task at hand. He was usually happy to share pleasantries but given the stares his patrol was receiving he didn't quite feel like conversing with the WindClan patrol and getting an earful of snide remarks back. "Do they think staring at us is going to hurt us?" Flycatcher asked his patrol in a low voice. He was careful to keep his tone low so the other patrol wouldn't hear them, but it was hard to hide the humorous glint in his eyes.​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

Howlingstar hums in agreement with her deputy. The last thing she needs is further tension at the border. And for a small while, she thinks they may complete the entire border without seeing a single WindClanner. But as soon as she spots the apprentice's face popping out from the grass, that hope diminishes. She easily recognizes the lead warriors that arrive next and pauses, returning their gazes with a neutral one of her own. Little Wolf and Flycatcher remain by her side, and she acknowledges the gray tom's words with a flick of her ear. Did they plan on having a silent staring contest all day? "Scorchstreak, Weaselclaw," She finally breaks the silence with a greeting, ignoring the glares tossed at her. She is nothing if not professional when she needs to be. "I hope the greenleaf heat isn't too unbearable on the moors." Civil, short. She doesn't want to draw any more of WindClan's ire than she already has by denying them passage.​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Flycatcher mumbles something Weaselclaw can’t catch, and Howlingstar seems to agree—she breaks the tension, her words cordial but devoid of warmth. The tabby only stares at her for a moment, extending the silence. “Nothing WindClan can’t handle, Howlingstar,” he finally says in a voice cramped with stale aggression. “There is nothing WindClan cannot handle.” It’s not a threat, exactly—but there’s little left to the imagination. The tension in his muscles, the ruffled quality of his fur, the cold glint of blue eyes, all of them communicate the same message: Watch your back.

He flicks his tail against Hollypaw’s shoulder. “Come. We have other things to do than breathe in that forest stench all morning.” He turns to go, letting Scorchstreak take the tunneling portion of the patrol as he scatters back upward toward the moor.

// out :)

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

While Weaselclaw responds to the enemy leader’s words with short, clipped words, his tone bleeding tension into the air between them and the ThunderClan patrol. He’s right; WindClan is a busy clan, and should not be dawdling in such a way. And these ThunderClanners do carry with them quite the odor, even from so far away. The calico does not deign to answer Howlingstar’s greetings or her attempt at civility. Her gaze hangs over the leader for a few sharp moments, and then she turns away.

Scorchstreak jerks her head to the side, gesturing for the other gathered tunnelers to follow after her. "Have a nice patrol, Weaselclaw," she calls to her friend, tail flicking as she stalks off. They have more work to do underground, and standing around entertaining Howlingstar’s self-righteousness will not help them to perform their tasks.​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

The tone she is met with from Weaselclaw earns a slight narrowing of her eyes. The meaning behind the words is evident. Her attempt at being cordial is all but thrown in her face as the brown tom turns to head back up the moors, and the other lead warrior says nothing. What else should I expect from WindClan? She thinks, green eyes watching the patrol leave. Not every clan will strive for peace like her own. A sad truth. Once they disappear, she turns to peer at Flycatcher and the rest of her patrol with a quizzical eye. "I want more border patrols along here," She utters to her deputy, already feeling the cold claws of apprehension trailing down her spine. Their neighbors' coldness only furthers the belief that they could attack at any moment - if they found out ThunderClan warned SkyClan of their attack, she fears they might be next.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Border patrols have become something of a luxury for Cottonpaw lately, most likely due to her behavior recently. She supposes she cannot blame Scorchstreak or any of the others of their rank - better to limit conflict than to risk it, right? The young she-cat even sees it in herself, her paws trotting ever closer to the border to casually greet the ThunderClanners before her mentor calls her back. Her paws stall with obedience and she gathers her gaze directly towards the tortoiseshell tunneler.

She lingers behind the joint patrol, tail twitching. Howlingstar makes small talk and Cottonpaw finds comfort in her father's reply. Weaselclaw signals to split up, and Scorchstreak wishes him and his a farewell. The blue furred molly looks again at the ThunderClanners, spying the young apprentice with them. Her brow furrows as she thinks of Magpiepaw for a moment, and how being friendly across borders nearly ruined her status in their home.

She stands and leaves without saying a word to the forest dwellers, for once holding her tongue.​

 

[skyclaw]

Skypaw knows to stay close to his well trained Clanmates, especially as they pass by more hostile borders. Of course he feels relief with the uneventful visit to the ShadowClan limits, unwilling to listen to the mud-wanderers for more than a few moments. He almost wishes the same could be said for the WindClan border, however. The grass-runners (or whatever they're called) are arguably worse. He feels safe, still, standing behind his mentor and leader, the deputy, and with his mother nearby.

The opposite patrol is massive, tense, and borderline aggressive. They almost skate by without conversation, though his grandmother is ever the polite socialite. He glances towards Little Wolf briefly before resigning to a similar standing - though his expression remains tight lipped and disinterested. "It's more deadly than their claws, didn't you know?" Skypaw posits to Flycatcher, standing away from the border to be free of immediate conflict.

The brown tabby is sharp with his words, splitting their patrol in half and guiding his few away. The calico does the same, bidding their partner a farewell. He spies one of the apprentices staring at him, her expression morphed with disgust. He curls his own lip back in a snarl, watching her walk away. "What an ugly lot..." he mutters under his breath, looking towards his mentor as she makes her demands. They make their leave shortly after.​