- Mar 11, 2024
- 103
- 22
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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Snakeblink had been right when he said that the freshkill pile could use more prey on it. This winter has been harsh to RiverClan, and the breeze that ruffles Crabchill's pelt only serves to expose his jutting ribs even more. He tries not to be frustrated with his clanmates over his own hunger—he's a warrior and he can hunt for himself, unlike the queens, elders, and kits who must rely on their clanmates to get them through this season. And now… he's been tasked with not only going on a hunting patrol, but leading one. It's odd, he can admit, padding along with Pebbletail and Ryepaw following after him. "Sorry Snakeblink told me to lead instead of you. I think you're… definitely better than me." He doesn't know why, exactly, the deputy had decided Crabchill was worthy of this kind of authority when a lead warrior is right there. Especially when Pebbletail is a RiverClanner without a muddied bloodline, while Crabchill himself has diluted half-ThunderClan blood; Lichenstar has made it clear that he and his littermate's are respected as RiverClanners, but there must be distrust elsewhere on her council. Surely not everyone in the clan agrees with the blue-pointed leader.
Casting his doubts aside, the warrior continues on with his search for prey—and out of the corner of his eye, catches sight of something moving in the cold river. "Did you see that?" He jerks his head in the direction of the water, then glances back to his companions to gauge their reactions. "Looked like a fish jumping—I didn't know they did that when it's this cold." Of course, it seems foolish in hindsight; why wouldn't fish jump in winter, when they do so in every other season? But in his own defense, Crabchill thinks, the last time it had been this cold, he had been a kit. It seems so long ago since he'd cuddled up beside his mother in the nursery, an entire lifetime away from the broad, strong patrol lead that he is now.
Casting his doubts aside, the warrior continues on with his search for prey—and out of the corner of his eye, catches sight of something moving in the cold river. "Did you see that?" He jerks his head in the direction of the water, then glances back to his companions to gauge their reactions. "Looked like a fish jumping—I didn't know they did that when it's this cold." Of course, it seems foolish in hindsight; why wouldn't fish jump in winter, when they do so in every other season? But in his own defense, Crabchill thinks, the last time it had been this cold, he had been a kit. It seems so long ago since he'd cuddled up beside his mother in the nursery, an entire lifetime away from the broad, strong patrol lead that he is now.
- ooc: @pebbletail and @Ryepaw were assigned to this patrol but anyone can also jump in :)
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CRABCHILL 𓆝 he/him, warrior of riverclan
𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. closed-off and unnaturally quiet.
𓆟 formerly mentored by cicadaflight
𓆟 son of iciclefang & stormywing ; brother to cragpaw & pinefrost
𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
𓆟 penned by foxlore