seen lately || hunting patrol

[betonyfrost]

Dawnlight falls over the rising fog with the same gentleness as a scattered leaf to a pool. They meet, but neither pierces the other. In time, the sun will ease the fog from the ground completely, just as it will gather dew from stems and stalks alike. In time, Betonyfrost will stop squinting in barely concealed agitation—such weather, mild as it is, does not bode well for the sight-dependent while hunting.

"Dawn patrol," Betonyfrost whispers in a tone that suggests a shout for what is perhaps the third time since departing from camp. She pauses her trek through the mud to squint back at the other unfortunate souls who have been assigned to dawn patrol, and then continues: "Here seems to be a good spot to spread out."

She makes a vague gesture, meaning roughly the same thing as the words she had spoken—ideally this patrol will be done with in as few words as possible, and whatever humiliation Betonyfrost faces when she inevitably misses her catch will be short lived.

//patrol members: @APPLEJAW @Willowburn @Scorchedmoon

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 30 moons | tags​

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[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
Willowburn found himself struggling to stifle his latest yawn. Normally dawn patrols didn't bother him but today he found himself genuinely struggling. His jaws shut with a resounding clack before he shook out his bushy coat to help stir himself further into the realm of wake. Straining his ears forward he then peered at Betonyfrost as the instruction was given, then with a shrug he picked a direction and slinked away in order to make a start on the hunt. His whiskers quivered as he tried to sniff out anything of interest.

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[APPLEJAW]

The patrol is her first as a warrior— and its no exciting one at that. Food was important for her clan, she knew, but they've already been growing fat for once, off of frogs. Here, they still chirped and croaked, and the sound of food was never a bad one, she knew... But it felt agonizingly similar to how it had only a couple sunrises ago, as an apprentice. What had changed? Besides no longer needing Chilledstar over her shoulders at all times. Perhaps that was all, and perhaps that would be enough to most other cats... but it wasn't to her.

She did not consider herself an instigator, not in the way that her brother was. But she was unafraid to, if it benefitted her. Claws itch for something more than frogskin. They scratch for a purpose, a way, a will. A distraction is all that the chirping is. Enticing, is what they try to be. Cause wasn't ShadowClan tired of starving? Wouldn't they be happy to hunt frogs day - and - night, to have their bellies full?

It wasn't a real solution. The next thing would be toeing their border any day now, even if Applejaw wouldn't be there to see it. Perhaps this would keep some happy, but it wasn't enough for her.

The patrol was quiet, as it ought to be. Applejaw was no chatterbox, or at least, not anymore she wasn't. But maybe only in absence of those that didn't know how to shut their mouths— Basilpaw or Ashenfall come to mind— Applejaw does not confine her thoughts to her mind alone. " We'll be bored of this soon enough, " she mutters, her crouch well - practiced.​