SAFETY OF DISBELIEF [ border scuffle ]

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】Scalejaw's eyes were narrowed on a piece of prey. A frog, seemingly unaware of the predator prowling nearby. It was far, and would be a considerable meal for anyone that fed on it at camp. Perfect. Her thoughts whispered to her. Scalejaw inhaled softly, then held her breath. She pushed off with her back paws, claws sinking into the frog's flesh before it made it too far. A quick kill, but not her cleanest. The hunger was barely nipping at her, but it was still throwing her off. Just as she pushed to her paws, the sound of a twig cracking caused her head to snap around.

For a quick moment, it was just her breathing, mouth clamped down on the fresh prey. Ears twitched and rotated, orange eyes wide and seeking of the source. Please, not a bear. Something black, but definitely not bear shaped, leapt from the undergrowth at Scalejaw. She didn't make any noise as she was collided into, sliding back for a brief moment before launching herself forward, diving underneath of the offender and surging to a standing position, throwing them backwards. They didn't fly away without dragging a claw down one of her ears- no matter.

And as they landed, staring at each other with heaving shoulders, Scalejaw identified the offender- well, at least what they were. A cat. A petty rogue cat. Through the frog, Scalejaw snarled, fur standing up. "Leave and do not return. I'll kill you if I see hide of you again." She threatened, and a slow laugh left the rogue, pushing to their paws and backing away from Scalejaw, never turning their back. The rogue didn't look too far off from well-fed, eyes wide and bright- advantageous. Confident, even. "You'll regret letting me live now." They purred. And with that warning, the rogue slipped off into the undergrowth.

When the trampling receded, Scalejaw swiftly turned on her paws, dodging undergrowth and twisted tree as she ran back to camp. Chilledstar was sick, Smogmaw was gone, Starlingheart was far too busy with the sick and now dead alike, so the only one left... Scalejaw padded into camp, ear still dripping blood as she dropped the frog on the freshkill pile. "Where's Ferndance?" Scalejaw asked aloud, eyes shifting and turning over the camp.

// @FERNDANCE no need to wait though!

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

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[FERNDANCE]

Lithe like a leopard and just as cunning (at least she thought so), Ferndance hadn't walked into responsibility, she had stuck to the shadows and avoided it as best she could. Any enjoyment from bossing about her clanmates in increasingly weird and wonderful ways had been snuffed out by the constant reminders of sickness and starvation that plagued the camp more frequently than good times ever had. Gentle mews escaped from the Lead Warrior as she lay supine across the Elder's tree stump - she doubted there were enough left to protest her choice of spot that day. Her song continued like the call of morning birds, eyes closed in an attempt to imagine anything but the slow deaths of those around her. She could picture the quick deaths of rogues instead, her claws finding targets both big and small to sink into. Subconsciously, Ferndance flexed the alabaster things, her imagination soon changing the cats to juicy morsels within her mind's view. Then, there was a call, and it all faded into a painful nothingness. The Lead Warrior blinked her weary optics open.

"Ferndance is... lying here." She tilted her head back, exposing her throat to the sky and narrowing her eyes towards the dark she-cat. Even upside-down, the tabby noticed an undeniable splash of colour on Scalejaw's face. She watched as Scalejaw placed the frog upon the pile and presumably walked closer toward her, slowly, Ferndance shifted to lay on her pale belly instead. Concern was absent from the she-cat's face, rather, her maw was parted slightly with intrigue and her pupils expanded with an attentive awe. "Oh wow..." she breathed, gaze looming upon the split in Scalejaw's ear. "I never knew frogs could do that, I didn't even know they had claws," Ferndance mewed in reverie of the amphibian that had (almost) bested one of their older warriors. The damp of the forest was all her keen nostrils could smell, that, and copper. "I shall tell the patrols to be more careful of the mires," she assured Scalejaw, quietly wondering if the sudden viciousness of their amphibian friends was the reason why so many good ShadowClanners were going hungry. "You should see Starlingheart... or don't, that den is a little crowded and we don't want anyone coughing on your boo-boo." The reason behind Scalejaw's injury, the true reason, was lost on the imaginative warrior with too much free time.

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[APPLEJAW]

Why would anyone ever look for Ferndance? The answer, Applepaw knew, was if the times were more than dire, with ShadowClan’s elite gone and the rest of the world seeming eager to fall right on top of that predicament. The lead warrior in question has apparently picked today of all days to be lazy. Whether she’s already hunted or not, her sloppy lounging across a tree’s stump did not improve her image, whatsoever.

Applepaw looks up, both to see what could’ve possibly happened to make anyone seek out Ferndance, and curious as to how the warrior herself would react. Of course, it is with no urgency whatsoever. She moves slower than those sickened with Yellowcough, and Applepaw only grows more irritated the longer she watched her for. Applepaw found it a bit worrying, that she was more concerned for Scalejaw than Ferndance seemed to be. " A frog didn't do that. " she huffs, as if Ferndance needed to be told that. She is still relatively kind about telling her, at least. Sure, patrols could be more careful, but not because of frogs.

Applepaw looks to the warrior, and she suddenly recalls the unfamiliar scent that ShadowClan had caught at WindClan’s border. " Your ear– was it a rogue? " she asks, whiskers twitching with hopefully only a hint of worry.

ooc ༊ 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

• 
  

• 

• ( I'M OBSESSED WITH THE MESS THAT'S AMERICA. ) APPLEPAW. kit of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 6 moons old as of 9.27.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

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[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】Ferndance's... inaction was worrisome, to say the least. And at this moment, where adrenaline just began to fade from her body and the sting in her ear was apparent, her eyebrows drew together. Lazy words slipped up to the warrior, and she flared her nose the longer Ferndance spoke. Scalejaw had pretty much forgotten about the frog by the time the lead warrior was speaking to her. Her fur gently bristled. "Boo-boo?" She repeated, almost in disbelief.

Scalejaw knew damn well that Ferndance would rather be napping then hunting, but not all of them had that luxury. With Smogmaw gone, Chilledstar down, Magpiepaw gone, and Starlingheart with her paws far too full (which now included semi-orphaned kits,) Ferndance was the only one that could supposedly take the reins. Before Scalejaw could pin words into Ferndance's hide, Applepaw spoke up. Her ears twitched, glancing towards the apprentice. One of Halfshade's kiddos- one of her friend's children. A part of her softened as she looked at the apprentice.

"Yes, a rogue." Scalejaw finally spoke. Her gaze flicked over the apprentice, as if to ensure the other was alright, before her vision shifted back towards Ferndance. "Rogues are becoming more daring, Ferndance. They've attacked me, and I'm sure you've been out to the borders to notice the scents are off, right?" Scalejaw's tone wasn't accusing, but her motives definitely were. She hadn't doubted her before, but standing here now? Maybe she should be doubting the lead warrior.

"Regardless, I now know I'm not the only one who knows of these rogues. Is there anything we should be doing? Patrols? Hunts for these cats?" The warrior spoke, orange eyes glowering as she focused on the lead warrior.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

Applepaw chimed in, assuring that it was not a frog that had caused Scalejaw's ear to split like a bird's beak. The Lead Warrior cast one look towards the torbie and mouthed a disappointed 'oh', eyes blinking with a hurt that could've only been reserved for the finest of betrayals. On the cusp of discovery, it was frustrating that the answer was as simple as a 'rogue'. She ran over conversation after conversation with her mother about them, how they were the only ones worth swindling because they were the only ones that had too much to give, and found her tail lashing. 'They only have too much to give because they are willing to take anything'. She looked past Scalejaw, deep in thought, little dots connecting as a picture began to form in the tabby's head. Realisation hit at the mention of scents being off, realisation that her family could be amidst the rogues, or realisation that it could be the rogues that had divided them. Her focus went back onto the older warrior, emerald eyes wide, perhaps looking as if she was concerned about the other's words - the truth was a lot more complex than it had any right being.

She sought guidance and Ferndance didn't know what she could give. "If it was up to me, I would find out where they are based and turn their insides into outsides." But, it wasn't up to her, was it? She gave Scalejaw a look that tried to reflect as such, a furrow of a chocolate brow or a slight twinge of a vacant smile before she shook out her coarse fur. Chilledstar had a way of saying 'no' whenever she offered anything, as easy as it would be to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, she had no intention of being the willful hero who sent her clanmates to death alongside her on a whim. Sick or not, it was their leader's call. If they wanted ShadowClan to act with confidence, they should've not gotten sick. "We can hunt in pairs or around the Carrionplace if you don't have any friends. We like shadows, if you smell anything, use them to investigate without fear of getting bit in the neck. Oh and... hurt any you see... except for maybe a black cat that says funny words and a cat that looks like me with a white mask. Murder is a friend to all except them." She would hate to think that her family could get mistaken for those who'd attack clanmates, her family only stole and nothing more.

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