ON YOUR MARKS.. | windclan patrol

[slateheart]

Secure our territory. Sunstar's decree rings through Slateheart's head as he leads his patrol through the moorland and past Fourtrees. Perhaps he should feel special leading this patrol as his new rank - a lead warrior. But it feels no different than last time. Unlike Dimmingsun, he finds he does not easily lose his level head to the power he now holds. Instead, he feels almost.. lethargic.

At least his first task is to lead a border patrol, and to ThunderClan of all Clans. The one Clan he held the least apprehension for, and received less all the same. There was nothing quite like meeting an opposing patrol at the borders of ShadowClan and RiverClan to hear the hatred spew from their mouths meant for someone else. As the head of the patrol, it all fell to him; and stars, was it draining. At least ThunderClan, save for their apprentices as of late, had the decency to hold their tongues.

Slateheart does not tell his warriors to mind their own like he had in the past. He does not expect trouble out of ThunderClan today, but will not stop his fiery warriors from defending themselves in these times. As they near the path that separates the two Clans, however, distant voices ring through the air, nonsensical and ear-grating. Slateheart, after his time in the Twoleg encampment, knows it all too well.

"Here," He hisses to his patrol with a raised tail to signal their stop. Creeping forward to investigate, sheltered by the slight slope leading up to the path, he can make out the Twoleg figures about. A small group of them - some up and chattering around a white, four-legged surface cluttered with a stack of red cylinders and water, and a few lounging in the grass on checkered pelts. The path, once plain and defined, has been marked and scored by lines and odd scribblings, and is now lined by sticks and what he assumes to be brightly colored vines.

Slateheart grits his teeth at the sight. Of all the ways a group of Twolegs could spend their time, this was the hardest to wrap his head around. But yet, unlike his first encounter with a Twoleg at this same border before the fires, he senses no urgency in their voices, and no confusion for their being here. They seem relaxed and energetic, especially so as he sees a Twoleg or two jog down the marked path.

"We'll mark further back today," he mumbles to his patrol. While the Twolegs are distracted, giving the cats an advantage, he knows the strength of their paws and the terror they bring when they see a cat they want. Though Firefang and Goldenstrike may be able to escape their grasp, Beepaw and Mouseflight - small as they were - would not stand a chance.



// patrol tags: @Beepaw @Goldenstrike @Mouseflight @Firefang (+ @HEATHERPAW )
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CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
  ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 24 MOONS,, ages every 6th
  ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
  ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH​
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  
• 
  
  
• speech is #bbbb88​

 

[Mouseflight]

Monotony, though boring, was appreciated. Every day borders were to be checked, every day hunting for what little they could find was to be done, and every day Mouseflight participated in this quietly without fuss. It was simply part of clan life and he was a more than willing participant no matter how much he found himself injured or starving, it was his home and his choice and he chose to stay here. Despite knowing the dangers of the borders though, he hadn't been able to help but be slightly relieved at the idea of a border patrol to ThunderClan instead of RiverClan or ShadowClan, not wanting today to get into arguments or fights at the border caused by the recent attacks on the other cat's land. He knew why it had been done, but was one of the silent few who had decided that it had not been worth it, for all the trouble the two patrols had gone through nothing had come of it except pain and death, and WindClan's favor to the stars seemed to be breaking more and more with each little misstep.

The other clans didn't need to believe that WindClan was favored by the stars for it to be true, for Mouseflight was sure each clan believed that of their own, but truly WindClan had been the only one that actually had their favor and whether or not they still had it now was debatable. Sootstar, the fire, the code breaking, he wouldn't blame the ancestors if their favor had faded in any way.

He was thinking about this as they walked, ears pricked as they moved closer to the border only to be stopped due to the twolegs in the way. A look of annoyance flicked across the tom's face before he nod and began marking where the patrol had been told. At least they might not have to worry about too many ThunderClanners, especially since the territory that was meant to be marked was still in WindClan's own territory.

⋆｡°✩ threw my voice into the dark

•  
• 
  ⋆ mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
  ⋆ amab - he/him - 20 moons
  ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
  ⋆ tunneler of windclan
  ⋆ attack - speech - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

​

​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

"We'll need to watch this border carefully for the next few moons." Raccoonstripe turns to look at Thistlepaw, his expression grave. "WindClan is desperate, but our mouths to feed come first, always." He tastes the air, and sure enough, there is moorland warriors' scent on the breeze, but he's distracted from his musings when an indescribably loud yelp shears the forest air. His pelt begins to spike. "Twolegs. Quiet."

He lashes his tail to signal to his patrol to follow him quietly, then crouches until his belly crushes the undergrowth. Raccoonstripe slithers forward—if a WindClanner looked hard enough, they could see burnished eyes gazing back at them, a white-splashed tabby face. To the clueless Twolegs, though, he remains hidden.

"What in StarClan's name is all of this..." He forces the fur on his shoulders to lie flat. Twolegs are running up and down the path, which has been adorned with eye-blinding colors and marked with something white. There are cheers, ear-numbingly noisy. "So much for hunting today," he mutters sourly.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: apprentice tag @THISTLEPAW
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — "speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 37 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.
  
  

​

 

[leafhusk]

⚘ the assumption is heavy, but leafhusk doesn’t expect windclan to venture over the border. last gathering’s unfortunate end felt like enough of a warning, for the moor dwellers to tough it out until the flowers bloom again. unfortunately, it didn’t mean she had to slack on double checking the borders- duty comes first. her maw parts to taste the air, and before she can say something, raccoonstripe beats her too it.

a hoard of them, on land they just burned. how sick… they should feel ashamed. she should be angry at them, and while she does, it’s merely a faint buzz in her skull. windclan isn’t her home. neither are the twolegs.

small, tawny ears perk at the incoherent babbling up ahead. twolegs stake their claim on the moorlands with colorful objects, she watches as a pair of kits chase each other around the vines. leafhusk sinks her body further into the ground, the molly’s pale fur helping her blend in with the undergrowth. eventually her eyes peel away from the sight, nostalgic ebbing from her mind as she refocuses on some bushes.

"hopefully they’re gone by tomorrow." she mutters, not excited to venture back to camp empty-pawed.​

 

[BLUESTRIDE]

જ➶ Being no stranger to the twolegs and their strange ways he isn't shocked to see them here. What in Starclan's name are they even doing? Honestly he had hoped that this patrol would be easy, knowing well the things that Windclan has done he was going to be vigilant in watching the border. Yet now they have to wait another time to mark it strongly. The twolegs are doing ehatever it is that they do and muck up everything. A frown pulls at his muzzle as watery blue eyes narrow slightly on the gathering. He slips along the undergrowth, keeping his body low as he glances across toward the Windclanners that are also observing the strange antics. At least they aren't harming anything. Or anyone for that matter. A soft sigh leaves his muzzle and he nods his head in agreement with Leafhusk. "Surely they won't stay overnight." If so then that will be the strangest occurrence yet.

Dipping his tail against the ground he frowns at the idea of hunting being ruined. Debating on the prospect of moving further into the territory. "We could just stay deeper in the forest, right? Hunting should be better there." His soft but low voice is questioning as he looks to Raccoonstripe. ​