slithered here from eden | thunder patrol


"Windy today isn't it?" Flycatcher commented, looking back at his patrol as they walked. "You can smell WindClan so clearly!" Although they were walking the border between WindClan and ShadowClan, there was no mistaking the smell of the moorland clan. It was like the scent of roses in comparison to ShadowClan scent. Flycatcher shivered slightly as the wind continued to howl, feeling oddly chilly despite the more pleasant weather earlier in the day. The sharp bite of the wind made him keen to return home and to the warmth and safety of his nest. "We'll redo our scent markers just up ahead," Flycatcher mewed, gesturing with his head to a tree a few pawsteps ahead. He glanced back at his former apprentice. "Roeflame, do you want to show us how it's done?"

/ tagging @Roeflame . @Stumpybounce @BURNPAW !
please wait for at least one of them to respond first! <3
 

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ROEFLAME — break the air to feel the fall.
The comfort of familiarity is one that is strongly overlooked, Roeflame only realizing as much when she finds herself more content on a casual patrol alongside Flycatcher and Burnpaw than she has been in the past half-moon.
There is no anxiety or unease that pokes or prods at her as the warrior walks alongside Burnpaw, snickering about something or other.
When Flycatcher muses about the wind, Roeflame only nods in agreement, the breeze felt nice though, oddly refreshing.
"Sure." She hums when her former mentor calls her forwards, "I am the border patrol master, after all." She adds humorously, as it’s no secret that border patrols were neither loved by the warrior or had a particularly good track record.
She makes quick work of the chore, finding a particularly faintly-scented spot. "The wind might make it more difficult to distinguish scents, so let’s hope it doesn’t pick up." She’d casually muse to the other patrol members.

"speech"
tags
 
"I'm afraid you get used to that, eventually!" came the call of Flycatcher's WindClan counterpart. Badgermoon appeared from behind a particularly robust gorse-bush, yellow eyes keen but not hostile as they moved over the ThunderClan patrol. The large moor-runner curved his dark tail over his back in greeting, pausing in the process of rubbing his cheeks against the shrubbery to greet the ThunderClanners. He had no quarrel with them, though he was displeased that Howlingstar had rejected Sootstar's offer of neutrality - and, truth be told, with their recent problems with rogues and RiverClan and ShadowClan, he had no interest in making more enemies unless they deserved it. Besides, Roeflame had a point - the wind certainly made scent-marking more complicated.

"Flycatcher," he greeted the green-eyed tomcat with a tiny smile, thinking back to the conversation he'd once had with the tom's mate. "How is Flamewhisker? And your kits?"

[ @SNAKEPAW apprentice tag! <3 ]
 
The feeling of wind carding through his fur is a welcome one. Gravelsnap wonders—if there were less crimson stains upon their kithood, would they have ever gotten to experience such a breeze at all. Would they still be drawn to the moorland, to the wide open sky, if they had been raised in the wetland they had been born into? They are grateful to their father for at least that much.

Gravelsnap basks in the breeze as they trot behind the similarly monochrome deputy and his apprentice, coming to a stop only when Badgermoon greets the patrol of cats who stand across the border. Truth be told, they would have walked right past the cats without a second thought—they do not like the other clans, and avoid interactions with them as much as they can. When met with the patrols of opposing clans, Gravelsnap would much rather observe from a distance, hidden away to avoid the stilted, tense conversation that always seems to come with border patrols. But Badgermoon doesn’t hesitate to start asking about the ThunderClan deputy’s family, of all things.

They roll their eyes, avoiding eye contact with any of the unfamiliar cats. "The wind is the best part," they remark, drawing a pale paw across their muzzle. Their mouth feels dry, the greatest downside of the strong winds. But still, they would never trade it for the absolute cover that ThunderClan is forced to live beneath in their forested territory.
[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]
 
જ➶ The wind almost looks like it is going to carry the young long limbed tom away. It causes ripples along his fur and he seems to be squinting against it every now and then. But the feeling and rush of it is so nice and he has been running along the moorlands, trying his best to catch any rabbits that he comes by. Of course he isn't on a hunting patrol but that doesn't stop him from trying. Galloping to catch up to the patrol after he has laggef behind the apprentice lets out a bright call. "Hi Thunderclan!" The young body seems happy to see the other clan and for all intent and purposes he actually is. The other clan he thinks is quite interesting and he has a question to ask.

Stepping close to the border he waves his tail in greeting, glancing to his Windclan companiosn for a moment before turning back to the other clan. "How do you catch a squirrel? I tried once but they are super crafty. Like they stay near the tree and skitter right up it. I'm fast but not that fast." He giggles warmly as he leans down and sniffs at the border.
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"

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Perhaps it was the fact Thunderclan was in his old home or maybe it's the fact they're another clan, but Houndthistle wasn't very favorable of Thunderclan. Of course, they weren't the level of Riverclan or Skyclan, but it was still a clan he wasn't particularly fond of. Houndthistle came from behind his current and former apprentices to stand by Badgermoon, standing beside the fellow large cat as his amber gaze flicked up and down the patrol, silent, as he observes them. It's not until Mirepaw starts speaking to them and toeing the border does Houndthistle speak. "Enough, Mirepaw," He growls lowly, stern but not mean. An admittance to any sort of flaw to Houndthistle was an admittance to weakness and, given how Sootstar claimed Shadowclan to be behaving, Windclan couldn't afford any weakness to be shown to the other clans.

He glances curiously at Gravelsnap, a smile quirking his lip at the tom's remark to the Thunderclanners, adding, "It carries scent just as well as it hides it. Makes it easier for us to know what's on our territory." He brushes his pelt against a few particularly tall pieces of grass.


"speech"

  • text
  • Physical Health
    100%
    ⤷ no current wounds
    Mental Health
    98%

  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

 


It is days like these that soothe the troubled toms heart. Running through the forest with Roeflame and Flycather, it reminds him of not too long ago when he was still training by his friends side. His mentor makes a comment about the chill, but Burnpaw's thick black pelt keeps him nice and warm so he barely notices it, though judging from the deputies shiver it must not be a great feeling. Inwardly he remembers the cold moons of leaf-bare and he thanks the stars that it is nowhere near as cold as that anymore.

When his friend declares herself 'patrol master' he smiles and rolls his eyes good naturedly. "More like patrol loser" he says, a teasing inflection in his tone. He is about to comment on the wind when suddenly the voice of a cat who is not a clanmate pipes up from the other side of the border. Instantly, he shuts his mouth and looks to his mentor as the other tom addresses him, asking how his mate and kits are doing. He recognizes the other cat as the deputy of WindClan.

He listens quietly as the other cats talk among themselves, conversing, teaching, all their comments lead back to the wind, however, He leans close to Roeflame and conspiratorially he murmurs "Have you seen how small some WindClanners are? Im surprised they don't just get blown off the face of the moors in wind like this!" his eyes shine with amusement at the thought of a cat being swept away by a strong gust.
 

Flycatcher watches Roeflame go with a smile. Despite the humour in her response he knew Roeflame to be a capable young warrior who could handle herself well on these patrols. She had a fair point about it possibly being hard to distinguish scents, so Flycatcher made a note to be extra cautious. It isn't long before WindClan cats begin to emerge on the opposite side, the first cat to speak being Badgermoon, who was Flycatcher's WindClan counterpart. There are two other warriors and a WindClan apprentice present with Badgermoon, and Flycatcher sweeps his gaze over all of them and gives them a cordial nod. "Flamewhisker is doing fine. She has recovered well since the incident with RiverClan. And my kits are shaping up to be fine apprentices, they made me prouder with each passing day," Flycatcher finally responds, a wistful expression on his face as he thinks of his family. An ear twitches as he hears Burnpaw whisper something regarding the size of WindClanners and smirks a little before returning to the conversation at hand. "How fares WindClan?"
 

Contrary to Burnpaw's remark, he would find himself seeing a cat who did not fit WindClan's usual brand of small and compact. Mintshade strode forward next to Houndthistle at the scent, her fur bristling at first until she realized it was only a border patrol and not another clan coming to cause them problems. It was bad enough every other clan had deemed WindClan an enemy without hesitation over their shows of force and unity, if ThunderClan joined them then what hope did the moorlands have of peace. Not that she cared for peace at all. The tall, lanky black cat with the acide green eyes wanting nothing more than a return to the glory days where she could kill Pine Colony cats without anyone batting an eye, but the new structure and borders kept her on her leash like a two-leg dog; constantly pulling at it to escape. Woe be the day she snapped the chain and set herself loose, but for now she was well-behaved enough. Her eyes rolled to Badgermoon getting friendly with them, but she turned her focus instead to her apprentice and gestured forward with a paw.
"ThunderClanners hunt in the forest, quite the farcry from how we chase rabbits over the hillside. I don't imagine there is a lot of space for running fast there without risk."
Mintshade raised that same paw to scratch at her cheek and then behind her ear with a swift lick to smooth her forever prickling fur back, "When we lived in the Marsh Colony, there wasn't room to run either. WindClan will always be the swiftest with the advantage of the moors. Remember that."

[Ooc]
Apprentice Tag - @Azaleapaw