SING TO ME ✦ CARRIONPLACE PATROL



They all smell the Carrionplace before it really comes into view, past the ever-present foliage of trees. Even the most experienced ShadowClanner has to brace for the stench — and with greenleaf now in full swing, the heat and humidity only adds to it. It acts as the birth place of sickness and disease, but if you know where to look, there's the blessing of prey that no other Clan could ever hope to come near enough to steal.

The silver mesh that separates it from the rest of the territory has plenty of openings to get through; warriors know each one by heart. Mirepurr is small enough to fit through any, but considering Orchidbloom's height, they choose a wider one for their entrance.

"Alright, alright. You've heard Smogmaw: it's time to scavenge. Anything that looks like we can eat, catch it. Just avoid crow-food. We don't want to add onto Starlingheart's to-do list."

Whatever strangeness Mirepurr would feel regarding the position of a patrol leader is lost on them. A hunting patrol is nothing new; it's as natural as the sun's cycle every single day. It's comfortable enough with this specific set of Clanmates, anyway.

Scuffing can be heard from the corners of the Carrionplace when the patrol gets overshadowed by the building's walls. Rats make the most sense in terms of what to fatten the fresh-kill pile with, but they're so much more dangerous than mere mice. "We could all work in pairs. One drives the rats out, the other waits at their exit." Mirepurr presents their idea and looks over the others; compromise is the name of the game.
 
*+:。.。 Although Bonepaw's expression was as chilled as usual, his chest burned hot with feverish irritation. He wished he'd been assigned to go on patrol along Riverclan's border. Instead, he was trapped following behind his older clanmates, each one as far removed from his interest as one could possibly get. He hated this. If he could, he would've rather skipped this whole ordeal and snuck his way, no matter how, into the riverclan patrol anyway - but the risk was too great that doing so might expose his knowledge of Snowypaw's whereabouts. The skin under his fur itched with discomfort, but onwards he traveled.

His bored eyes gave nothing away.

"My job?" he finally speaks, voice soft only in volume; cutting sharp to the point. He wasn't familiar with hunting in the carrion place yet, so he didn't think he should offer to be a 'chaser'. Still, if the warriors around him wanted to teach him, he didn't mind the knowledge. If they preferred he practices his ability to lie still and wait for the best opportunity to strike, then he was just as equally alright with that option, too. Being the youngest here, it felt impolite no matter what to voice an opinion on either possible role. So, quietly, he waited for an assignment.

He wondered if Snowypaw missed the carrion place...





  • GENERAL:
    Shadowclan — apprentice
    DMAB— He/Him — Unsure
    6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Son to Ferndance x Needledrift
    Littermates with Bloodpaw, Shadepaw, Snowypaw
    Half-brother to Gigglekit, Morelkit, Branchkit
    Apprenticed to Nightwhisper



    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #738171
    injuries: None currently
 
Flintwish does not stray far from Ashenfall as the patrol makes its way towards Carrionplace. It's one of his first patrols as a fully-fledged warrior, and it feels... about the same as any other. It isn't strange; it isn't difficult; they are going scavenging, and though Flintwish is not as much of a scavenger as he is a hunter, he has done it all before under Scalejaw's and Forestshade's careful tutelage. Mirepurr leads them as a new lead warrior, and the gray-furred feline doesn't mind that, either. They're apt, they're kind, and they have a good sense for directing others. All things considered, the patrol feels extremely normal considering the amount of life changes that Flintwish has just gone through.

Not that she's complaining. Her shoulder occasionally brushes Ashenfall's as they trot through the stinking garbage heaps. Slipping through the metal fencing is easy with a frame made small and willowy by illness. Eventually, they pause, and Mirepurr makes their suggestions for how they should go about hunting. Flintwish's first instinct is to look to Ashenfall — but her attention is drawn towards Ferndance's kit when Bonepaw speaks with that same focused sharpness that he himself often voiced.

He remembers his conversation with the pale apprentice, and his tall ears flick backwards just slightly, placid frown deepening into a truer grimace. Not that he finds Bonepaw detestable — rather, Flintwish's empathy is a strange and anxious creature, one that may appear as distaste more than anything. Maybe it is because he finds himself a rather ugly thing. To be like him is to be marked, cursed in some way. That is what Flintwish feels when she pads towards Bonepaw, head tilting, offering Ashenfall only a parting glance. "We can be partners...?" the granite-pelted warrior suggests to the apprentice, brows knitting together ever so slightly. "I can chase the rats if you can catch them."

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    flintkit . flintpaw . flintwish
    — he / they / she ; warrior of shadowclan
    — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
    — "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by sixbane, signature by dreamydoggo
    — penned by meghan