border So I trade licks with the muddy waters ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TC mentor&app

[roaringsun]

〔✦〕If he concentrates, Roaringsun can still hear the yowls of battle and feel the wounds burning beneath his pelt. The battle at Sunningrocks had been anything but fair, a showcase of cowardice from RiverClan and ShadowClan both. His whiskers twitch irritably as they arrive at the landmark that had been taken from them after the fight was over, after they were forced to retreat because of a cruel trick. "This is the border with RiverClan." The bluntness and bitterness in his voice comes as a shock even to him. He wants to leave here as soon as possible, doesn't want to run into any gloating Riverclanners; he might be the one to attack someone if provoked, and that would put Berrypaw at risk. "They can swim and mainly eat fish." So they don't need Sunningrocks at all is a thought he doesn't voice.

"If we meet a patrol of theirs stick close to me and just say hello and we keep moving." Roaringsun instructs, staring at the river, recalling Raccoonstripe's bloodied frame floating in the water.

I took a little journey to the unknown ( Ive come back changed, I can feel it in my bones ) //

• ooc. @Berrykit no need to wait!
• ROARINGSUN —— warrior of thunderclan , mentor to berrypaw . npc x npc . littermate to npcs ✦ penned by nocthymia
  ✦ male / he/him / 14 moons & ages every 14ᵗʰ
  ✦ single / orientation & poly or mono / open/closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— combat details here / battle notes
  
  ✦ "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ✦ tags — msg on discord (hypmic) for plots — toyhouse
  
• reference image here
  

  a longhaired flame sepia with low white and amber-brown eyes.

​

 

[LAMBLEAP.]

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Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Lambleap cared not for politics, quite frankly. All he cared was that he and the people he cared about were safe and had enough to eat. He had not taken part in the battle, so he did not understand most of what had happened. He figured it was not his place to ask. If it was important or needed, he would have been told. Nobody liked a snoop.

The cream tabby watched Roaringsun and his apprentice, his face deadpan. No emotion, no hate, no joy. He nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Hello, and good luck." His voice was soft, and calm. ​

 

[shellpaw]

patrolling the area around sunningrocks is nervewracking at best . . hostile at worst. thunderclanners breathe contempt from snorting noses and clumsy, stomping paws in the wake of their devastating loss. shellpaw, despite her gaunt frame and aching belly, feels a pang of pity for them as they pass by. the rocks had belonged to them long before her birth, so long that it feels odd to have their smooth, grey - white surface chilling the pads of her paws as she peers for hiding water vole.

she hears them long before the tomcat speaks. a heavy, curious crunching along the frosted snow that betrays a lumbering stature and graceless paws twitches her ears back against windruffled skull — this is the border to riverclan.

they are close. at least, closer than shellpaw would necessarily like to be. the cat that veers from the rotten undergrowth is a heavy, gold - threaded tom with a bitter, pinched expression layered upon broad features. plush, lilac tail twitches at the tip with a quiet curiosity ( they don't look like they're starving . . it does little for her guilty heart ). aside her, lambleap speaks a gentle hello — bids the tom and his striped apprentice good luck, " be — be careful, looks like theyre still sore from the battle. "

not like they'd do anything, surely, but . . it was never good to prod a wounded bear. besides, the apprentice was hardly a scrap! familiar, dark stripes like their late leader, she can only assume he was one of the lead warrior's blood. she can't help but smile, wraithlike across rosen maw . . tentatively, shellpaw tries a gentle, " is — is this his first time out of camp? that must be exciting . ." she doubts it'll smooth the big one's fur, but she cannot help but give the wandering apprentice a quelling blink, " hello, little one. i promise the rivers spirit will be far calmer than this come newleaf . . " for now, it is crusted in shattering frost and ice, scuffed ugily upon its thinning top. come it's thaw, he would be grateful to behold it . . even from a distance.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
• 
• SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. FOURTEEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENSTAR ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing and coughing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

​

 

[MIDNIGHTASH]

જ➶ Hunting within the crevices of Sunningrocks feels as easy as breathing. Afterall, it belongs to them again and has been a place they used for hunting long before Thunderclan stole the rocks from them. Her paw digs within one such hole and the sudden squeak lets her know that she has indeed grabbed something. A mouse. It dies quickly but she drops it as she hears the telling pawsteps of others, smelling the rotten and withered undergrowth on their pelts. Thunderclanners. With a turn she is quick to pick up the mouse and she steps casually over to both Lambleap and Shellpaw. She can agree, they are still sore about their loss much like how Riverclan was when they decided to steal the rocks from them before. Though she finds humor in the situation. Karma. Whatever it is called. Starclan look upon the river cats with favor and with the rights to what is theirs.

With a flick of her tail she nods to Shellpaw's words. "Yes, come the warmer air the river thaws. Then it becomes a rushing beast." She smiles lightly, carefully as she gently moves the mouse to Shellpaw's feet, yawning slightly before flexing her own claws against the rough stones.​