border SIMPLE TELEPHONE CALL ♡ SHADOWCLAN PATROL

[MIRESTAR]

"Here we go again," Mirepurr breathes into the warm air around them, slowing down to a halt by the thick strip of the Thunderpath. They know the borders as well as every nook and cranny of the camp itself. Déjà vu dances with them, a reminder that they managed to assign not only themself, but Snowpaw too to the same bit of land in quick succession. It had been only semi-deliberate.

No matter. After a while, every border and every landmark feels the same... with the change of seasons or with other touches of nature, they might shift a little to the left, but that's about it. Mirepurr learns to love the monotony of it all — though they can only hope Snowpaw is not too bored himself.

One wayward glance rests on Blackstrike. It lasts for only a moment, but it is enough for them to ponder on how he might feel within ShadowClan, now that the one who let him in is gone. Him, Lotusbelly and Shriketalon have admittedly not been the closest family... but Chilledstar had given them a second chance nonetheless, and now they will only get to see where that decision leads the trio from the stars above. How bitter.

Where there is negativity, Mirepurr can find something to counter it. The wind carries plenty of scents, from faraway scenery and cats, but one thing in particular stands out; there is a strong hint of fresh flowers, something that had been absent over at this side of the territory since the fire. Now that Mirepurr sees the moors in daylight, their eyes can bask in the pretty sights. "Look! The heather has started to regrow."

No need to wait for @Snowpaw. @BATCHASER @BLACKSTRIKE

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[Mossthorn]

Across the border are faces that grow less and less familiar with each generation. Mossthorn tries not to let it bother her, she had chosen this life after all, chosen to follow Sootstar out onto the moors and leave the marshes behind. It is not on her soul that others may have chosen differently. A part of her does find itself wondering what life would have been like if she had stayed. Would she be any different than the cat she was today? Would she and Coldbite ever have found their way together, or would she and Moltface still be mates, adopting every stray that wandered onto the territory and finding a different kind of family, happiness, than the one she had been expecting? She is uncertain she wants to know the answer.

As they approach the border though, she finds a smile lifting up the corners of her mouth at the sight of Mirepurr. They had been so young when the clans had split, but Mossthorn remembers them toddling about the marsh-lands camp with a certain fondness she is not quite able to shake and when she opens her jaws to greet the opposite patrol, it is with a friendly voice "Indeed it has!" She chirps from WindClan's side of the border, tail flicking as she rubs her cheek against stalk of it in order to leave behind her scent marking. Wind Clan's scent marking. "I dare say, soon the whole marsh will be right as rain. It's only a matter of time." time and patience. It would come back, all of it, just like it did for ShadowClan when fire raged through their territory moons ago. "Tell me, how fares ShadowClan? Everyone doing okay?" Her gaze flits over the other patrol members as she talks, but ultimately it settles on Mirepurr, the cat she knows best. She had heard of Chilledstar's passing, and her heart went out to the clan and the members they had served during their time as leadership. She just hopes the transition to Smogstar had been smooth, but then, ShadowClan should be used to it by now. What with the multitude of leaders who's paw-steps Smogstar now had to fill.

// @Grasspaw

( .ೃ࿐ ) watch what happens next

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• MOSSTHORN WINDCLAN WARRIOR ; SHE / HER; SISTER TO TBD ; MATE TO COLDBITE
  

  A feisty she cat with a heart of gold. Her appearance is befitting her tunneler status, as she stands shorter than most, and her sleek black fur excels at repelling the dirt that she shifts through. Her eyes are such a light blue color that they appear gray and upon her pelt she wears many scars, testaments to the battles she has fought in her lifetime.

  ✦ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, no killing, maiming, or injuring without permission
  ✦ Skilled & experienced in combat. Fights dirty.
  

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[BATCHASER]

Following after the chimera lead warrior, the lanky tom breathes in the warm air around him. Hidden half - lidded eyes gaze across the Thunderpath towards the Windclan patrol. He knows every nook and cranny at this point in life, it's the same thing except for the weather changes shifting everything to and fro. It’s a minimalist task — one that is an easy routine to maintain. Mark the border, Exchange greetings, Sometimes rude comments, and a small sliver of gossip here and there.

The wind carries a multitude of scents across the opposite border, he cranes his pale - splattered neck out to see that Windclan’s grasses and heather were recovering from that fire outbreak they had. The strong whiff of flowers hits his darkened nose. The moors are a pretty sight to behold, now that it is growing. "It’s very pretty." He flicks a large ear towards Mirepurr, agreeing with the plush - furred feline with a nod.

The lanky tom tilts his head to the side at the apprentice at the Thunderpath, before flicking his gaze back at Mossthorn. New apprentice? He hums as he lets himself roam over to the scent marker, and begins to rub mark it with a lazy flick of an ear. Whiplike tail sways behind him as he looks over the Thunderpath towards the moor-dwelling cats with a hum.

THE DARLING MOON ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ HIDDEN EYES AND SHARP GRINS

•  

• 

• ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ✦ cismale ; HE / HIM, fine with gendered terms. ; 33 MOONS & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking / open to crushes & romance
  ✦ a tall, shorthaired curly black smoke mix with gold/green heterochromatic eyes.
  ✦ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] Wasn't long ago that they were checking the borders that met up with Windclan, even if it had been during the time in which Smogstar had left to get his ninelives. Yellow gaze trained across the border as he noted green pstch growing from which it was grey, good to see that Windclan was finally healing from the recent fires. Even Mirepurr had pointed out the heather had began to grow back which the apprentice nodded in agreement before looking towards the warrior and apprentice before giving a curt nod in greeting.

"Good to see Windclan is healing" he said calmly, keeping the other part about how maybe now they won't attempt to steal again from their clan, of course he hope the last skirmish that he heard about taught them a lesson in which not to mess with them despite Sunstar's delusional anger and put blame that Shadowclan had refused to help when they had once already willingly shared during their frog pandemic. Eyes flicked towards Batchaser before turning his attention onto the patrol before them, having not much to say aside from what he said, sticking close to the side of their lead warrior. The last time the two wouldngo on patrol together as mentor and apprentice, an odd thought that came to mind.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You ve wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

• 
  "speak""Thoughts"
  
• 
  Snowpaw ❄ He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 11 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[BLUEFROST]

"Stay alert," Bluefrost murmurs to Brackenpaw as the two of them pick their way after Mossthorn and Grasspaw. Green eyes glimmer as she flicks her gaze from Mirepurr to the cats who accompany them. No doubt ShadowClan is still sore after losing a frog or two. Or an eye. She had not endorsed Firefang's brutality, but... ShadowClan had initiated the attack, and they had paid the price. Bluefrost harbors no regrets within her.

"ShadowClan." She greets the patrol with a level stare and a cool expression. "WindClan is strong as ever." She fixes her eyes on the white cat who'd spoken. And don't you forget it. She brushes her tufted cheek against a sprig of heather, leaving behind her scent and bits of silver-gray fur.

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

• ooc: apprentice tag @Brackenpaw
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

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[BLACKSTRIKE]

➼➼ Humid marshland gives way to blistering black asphalt, and the tom casts a short glance around. The thunderpath is a good source of prey, if one isn’t too picky—but ShadowClanners seem averse to eating the easy pickings left over from the metallic beasts that roam the path. He spots nothing, but he does see the enemy patrol that approaches from the other side of the path. WindClanners appear at their side of the border, and Blackstrike nods in response to Mirepurr’s observation.

The first moorland cat to speak seems friendly enough, though the tom knows better than to trust any of the WindClan codebreakers. The dark-furred warrior asks whether ShadowClan is faring well, but that’s not exactly Blackstrike’s place to speak. He’ll let that query be answered by the lead warrior—because in his mismatched eyes, ShadowClan isn’t doing great. The leader who allowed him to stay is dead, and the position has been passed to a tom who he can’t read. Smogstar might throw him back to the carrionplace any day. He doesn’t have the advantage of being a sibling of Chilledstar, not like Ripplestream and Shriketalon.

For that reason, he starts silent until Bluefrost raises her voice to address them. WindClan is strong as ever, she says—yeah, if strong means they’re doing good at thieving and lying. "Y’know, I thought clans that are strong as ever didn’t have to say that outright," he comments in a low voice—better that the WindClan patrol across the thunderpath doesn’t hear him poking fun at them. The blue-furred one, Sootstar’s daughter, is the definition of a buzzkill. She probably looks down on them as it is, even though she doesn’t have the stature to look down on anyone. "It’s nice, seeing things starting to grow back." He says louder, his voice clear enough for the WindClanners to hear now.

➴ i think i found a home

• ooc: —
• 
  BLACKSTRIKE ❯❯ he/him, shadowclan warrior
  ➼ thin black and white tom with mismatched blue and yellow eyes. calm and nonchalant, difficult to anger.
  ➼ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ➼ penned by foxlore

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[MIRESTAR]

Mossthorn's friendly voice is a pleasant one to hear, especially when Mirepurr has been expecting hostility after last moon's quarrel. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that the Clans are majorly made up of cats who had been divided into only two, not five — the way culture and law shape up pushes the days of the colony further and further away from immediate memory. Would things have worked out better, had everyone remained as they are? Surely not. It might appear the better alternative, but StarClan must have known better.

Regardless, Mirepurr allows themself to indulge in easy chit-chat. "I'm glad to hear. Just keep all that pollen over at your side," they snort, light, knowing full well that not every cat finds newleaf or greenleaf easy to deal with... plenty of achoos to last several lifetimes. "ShadowClan is finding its footing again. Smogstar has been doing an excellent job."

They peer down at the tabby apprentice, wondering if he is amongst the names Sunstar had called out during the Gathering. More WindClanners speak up before they can attempt to bring the question forth.

"Tough as ever then, too." The comment is aimed at Bluefrost, not letting their friendly stance wilt away under that icy cold exterior. A fitting name you've got. With Blackstrike, they speak only with their eyes to avoid anyone overhearing something; amusement peers back over to the tom. Mirepurr remains careful as to not let any of their plush fur get stuck on the dry bark of the tree they mark, not missing a beat to reinforce ShadowClan's own strength as they do so.
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