twolegplace SIMPLE AND CLEAN ✧ skyclan dusk patrol

Blazestar’s mind buzzes with all that had occurred after the Gathering, even as he skirts the Twolegplace border. His pelt blends with the sky’s soft orange inferno as the dying sun slips into a comfortable purple dusk. The air is cooler now, and night brings a nip to the breeze buffeting his fur. He had wanted to see how Tiggerbounce was getting along with Aspenpaw; he’d not been sure about the pairing initially, but he wants to have faith in the ginger warrior.

As for Sootspritespark… “Orangeblossom said you requested to be on this patrol.” He looks at the curly-pelted queen with a furrowed brow. “Your kits aren’t apprentices yet.” It’s a statement, flatly spoken, but there’s the hint of a question within it. A simple one—Why?


  • no need to wait, any loners/kittypets/rogues feel free to interact! @Sootspritespark. @TIGGERBOUNCE @Aspenpaw
  • djGoyK1.png
  • blaise . blazestar
    — he/him ; leader of skyclan
    — pansexual ; divorced ; single
    — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Mercibun
 
I KNOW THAT I'VE GOT A BIG EGO

sootspritespark & 38 moons & demi-girl & she/they & skyclan queen

It's nice to leave the camp when she can, to hunt and roam freely once more. The patrol is a small one, but blazestar himself is here, and so anticipation twists in her gut. The question he poses is not one she expects - but, then again, she is still growing used to the way these clan cats think. Tail flicks slowly, curls bounding, as she tries to phrase it respectfully enough, despite the fact the question is irksome. What right does any cat have to question her methods? They're hers and her's alone, now that Hound has made his choice.

"At their age, my littermates and I were already independent, living our own lives," she says quietly, smile bright and yellow eyes fond. They're happy memories, really, even if she has no names to recall and their faces have grown blurry with time. "They may not be ready for things like battle just yet, but I don't think they need to be coddled either - my kits are strong," it's a similar excuse to the one she'd given before - tradition. Her parents had done it this way, so why shouldn't she.

A quiet hum, and a glance at the younger apprentice on patrol. Her ktis aren't far behind - soon, that will be them. "They no longer need my milk, have already had their first taste of both prey and pellet. I came back to this forest in search of freedom, and I only wish them to experience the same," It's perhaps, the first anyone has heard mention of her past - of where, exactly, her skills had come from. She'd been well suited to clanlife after all - a kittypet already familiar with hunting and fighting, who's skills did not match her unscathed appearance.

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • a small and notably round molly with ink black curls and a white-speckled belly. she wears a bowtie collar with a bright white and lemon yellow plaid pattern, and always seems to be smiling. beyond the normal clan-scent, she smells heavily of milk-scent, dog, and twoleg.

    physically medium && mentally hard
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#ffff99]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

"Oh heyyyyyy, it's SkyClan! Hi, SkyClan!" Perched one on of the fence posts, though it was unclear how he'd even gotten up onto it with those short legs of his, the black and blue munchkin cat loomed down with orange eyes round and wide like tangerines. He hadn't caught the conversation being had but he'd noticed them passing by and had scrambled to get up onto the wooden gate so he could say hi from a safe little loft. Climbing was always a struggle for him, but a combination of very well placed crates and a tree let him get up without as much painstaking flailing about as he might have otherwise.
The floppy-eared kittypet knew the forest cats only in passing, most the stories he hears are from Grapejuice when he is taken for his monthly checkups at the clinic and everything else is from the daylight warriors who happen by his nest on their return to their own.
An odd bunch, this group was, but very cool as a concept. If he were any kind of cat he might be more inclined to join them and seek the freedom Sootspritespark was so adamant on being important, but he knew his limits. He wouldn't make it out in the wild, not with his tiny limbs and aching joints and head that was a little too big for his body.
"What's going on in the forest lately? Charlielight told me you had sick cats, I hope they get better!"
 
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chevy has heard of the sick cats. it’s all about the forest and seeping to the streets, a quiet ripple of speculative murmurs that has even him on edge when his dads open the screen back door to let him out into their yard to catch the rats and varmints hiding in the rusted beds of old, decaying trucks and their discarded, rubbery paws. when the back door creeeeaks open to allow him and his brother into the world, coors stumbles out first, all clunky, gigantic paws and wild snuffling into where the tall grass juts around their splintered porch. today, his belly is full of wet food, and the rats eating away at whatever they can scavenge beneath their project rubble can live to see another day. dodge chevy takes to the fence, splaying out along the thickest edge where he does not run the risk of his brother knocking him over in his excitement.

fizzy soda’s call alerts him first to their approach. he’s heard stories of blazestar — been at the outskirts of his camp on one far - wanderin’ day. he’s heard stories, but the golden pointed tom strolling up along their walkway was huge. chevy lifts his head where he’s lain haphazardly across the top of his fencing, a long tail dangling loose from chipping white paint. that was a.. big ol’ guy, walking alongside a lint ball of a dark molly, and a smaller, oranger tom with a scrunched nose. they murmur amidst themselves and.. his features shift into a blinding grin of welcome once he realizes that, yes. they are coming this way, further into the depths of twolegplace. it’s rare for him to be one of the souls they happen upon, seeing as they skitter real quick from the uprights, but chevy couldn’t imagine it — jack and ennis woulda lost their minds without him by now. charlielight told me you had sick cats, his neighbor calls, and his ears incline at him.

” ain’t that right? “ he says, to both the forest cats and his neighbor, despite the furrowing of his brow in fizzy sodas direction. sunny eyes shift back towards where the ragtag group approaches nearer, ” if’n yall don’t mind the question, what kinda sickness? my pa’ll swear by what they call, uh — ool, for the mange, but i’ll keep it honest w’ yall, that boy ain’t got the sense god gave a goose. “ a leg lifts to scratch at his neck. ‘sides, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of old ratrod since his fur started patching that one time. smells something awful, too.

the fence creaks suddenly as coors draws close, nosing loudly at the wide plats allowing small, hazel eyes to peer out where the scent of wild cat permeates. the fencing suddenly rocks with the force of a large, chocolate paw coming to scrape at already - rotting wood, low whines of interest lifting from the enclosed space. chevy’s perch shakes beneath him, and lazily, he aims a flurry of lazy, widely missing swats towards a blocky head, watch it, now! g’on, get somewhere! anywhere but there, he’ll scare off the neighbors.

  • i.
  • DODGE CHEVY ——————— the visiting kittypet ⠀ 𓄅 . ׁ
    ✪ . BISEXUAL AND NONCOMMITTAL, FLIRTATIOUS. SMELLS LIKE WET DOG, OLD BEER AND MOTOR OIL. TWENTY FIVE MOONS. FUTURE DAYLIGHT WARRIOR OF SKYCLAN, PENNED BY ANTLERS.
    m. he / him, future daylight warrior of skyclan. scruffy chocolate smoke with sunlit eyes. young and wild, colt - like in all but age ; he is forever exuberant, all boisterous laughter and crooked smiles from gapped teeth. his limbs are sleek and leanly muscled, though not quite long enough to rival the size of his clanmates, leveling him quite a bit shorter than skyclan’s majority. deep mocha tones lightening at the elbows where his short fur feathers messily, surprisingly glossed and well - kept by the haphazard diet his owner offers him. oft coated in strong - smelling soot and something chemical, dodge chevy is an oddity amongst the clans — if only for his.. unique kittypet life.
 
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So a SkyClan patrol was passing nearby? It wasn't hard to miss the scent carried on the wind, nor the din of conversation taking place. Ultimately Sharpeye opted to keep his head down and to remain obscured behind the fences and bracken, safe from trouble with his former clanmates as he carried his catch home. However, it was what the kittypets said that caught his attention. The messy furred tom let his paws carry him closer before he clamoured up onto the top of the fencing so he could get a proper look at the SkyClan patrol, Fizzy Soda, and Dodge Chevy. Once balanced he then set the mouse down with a protective paw placed atop it. "Sickness? What's this about a sickness?" If something was spreading then he needed to know the details so he could report back to Gale. Their group needed to be kept safe at all costs.

Being there was a risk, but it was one he decided to take for the sake of gathering information. Though as his single good eye found Blazestar's familiar form he began to feel the old familiar prickle of something creep beneath his pelt. It hadn't felt it in some time, and he wished that he wasn't feeling it now. With a wrinkle of his nose he forced his gaze elsewhere as a way of escaping the old emotions that had once been so warm, despite having never been shared.

 
Yewberry allows his heart to grow cold on a daily basis. Compassion, his sense of right and wrong, and being nosy have only bitten him time and time again. He wanders twolegplace regularly, sticking to familiar paths and things he's designated as landmarks. The place was vast, and he wasn't going deeper than he needed to. He wanted to keep the forest nearby, if only so he doesn't forget what it smells like, what it looks like. He had followed Sharpeye, not exactly joining him on his hunt at first, more....Passing on the idea and then changing his mind and following him to hunt too. He wasn't as lucky, though.

He hears word of a sickness spreading, and the moment he feels worry bubble inside, he crushes it. He hops onto the fence beside Sharpeye and the others, looking down at the Skyclanners for a moment

"It's nearing leafbare, sickness is....Common." He says, remembering the greencough outbreak. "They'll be fine, I'm sure." He adds. He knows Sharpeye was a former Skyclanner, but he wasn't sure if he held any feelings for his old home. He doesn't know the other cats and decides to leave it that way for now.​