STENDHAL SYNDROME ↷ [PATROL ASSIGNMENTS]

[smogstar]

The routine stream of patrols had admittedly gone dry during the moon prior. Between the lethargy brought on by Greenleaf and the clan's collective weariness because of their bear interlopers, what incentive the deputy held for devising them fizzled out entirely. Smogmaw, however, was not inclined to waste excuses on such a trifling subject. He'd dropped the metaphorical mossball, made a blunder of things. Should anyone so much as complain about missed patrols, then he was wholly equipped to own up to it—and yet, he didn't suppose this hypothetical to be a likely one.

Nonetheless, as the clan's combined masses would come to learn in a few short moments, ShadowClan found itself faced with a novel matter of concern. "If you've the claws to hunt, fall in!" The deputy's croaking voice sounds from beside the fresh-kill pile. That signature look of vacant disinterest of his is ever present, but as always, it betrays the fixed deliberation harboured behind those glassy eyes. Only when a seemly number of clanmates gather round (seemly for ShadowClan's standards, at the least) does he continue.

"I'm fixing to assign everyone a patrol," commences Smogmaw, who gestures in the prey pile's direction with an idle tail-flick, "though before I do anything else, I wish to remind everyone of the coming change of seasons. Prey has been unreasonably plentiful for ShadowClan through the prior moons. We've enjoyed fuller bellies and stronger minds for it, but know our good fortune will not last. Exert extra effort into prey-catching when you're out and about in the greater marsh. It's imperative that we fatten ourselves up before it starts going cold."

"To start, I want Sabletuft, Loampelt, and Rosemire to venture out to Carrionplace. There's been a paw-full of peculiar noises coming from there. Loud noises. My educated guess is twolegs, but I need you lot to conduct an investigation. Take Wheatpaw along, as well as your own apprentices. Report back with anything worth noting." Semi-lidded eyes flit to Sabletuft and Rosemire at those final words. The upwalkers' junkyard has historically proven to be a source of disturbance, and this latest development is an issue of palpable worry. ShadowClan could certainly do without the swarms of rats there getting any more uppity.

Next, his gaze scours the cats nearby for the silvery eyes of his apprentice. "This coming moonhigh, I will be leading a night patrol along our border with WindClan. Granitepelt, Clearheart, Honeyjaw, and Maggotpaw, you'll come with." By proxy, Sharppaw will be in attendance as well. It's simply embarrassing how she's proven incapable of earning a warrior's name. The others in his midst must be questioning his own aptitude as a mentor, too. "While we will walk in the shadow of the night, it isn't in our intentions to conceal ourselves from our belligerent neighbours. I'd prefer it if they saw us, in all honesty."

Already does he grow spent from this, speaking at length amid a sea of heedful eyes. All judging. All questioning his motives, his reasons. Smogmaw understands full well he ought to swallow these misgivings if he ever intends on forging a leadership which commands respect and loyalty. To shake one's intrinsic nature is easier said than done, with that being said. A heavy sigh precedes the next batch of names. "Ferndance, take Betonyfrost, Spiderfrost, Lilacfur, Ribbitleap, and Bonefang on a patrol out ThunderClan's way. Take Jitterpaw with you, and do try to practice decorum if you engage with the locals." ThunderClan needn't have shown mercy towards their bunch when they'd been holed up in the tunnels, and while no notion of gratitude had been officially expended towards them, it'd be foolish to trample over the steadier ground that both clans now stand upon.

"Lastly," he says, "our dear leader Chilledstar will be carrying out a hunting patrol. Let's leverage the bears' methods and engorge ourselves on fresh-kill before it's too late to do so. So please, please, please, please bring back nothing but mouthfuls. Bearclaw, Needledrift, Geckoscreech, and Spectermask, go along with 'em—and as always, bring your apprentices."

A sprinkling of wordless moments would come to pass, permitting the day's orders to settle in the surrounding minds. "That's all. Get your rumps off the ground and do something."


//
CARRIONPLACE PATROL - @S A B L E T U F T , @loampelt , @Wheatpaw ! , @rosemire , @COMFREYPAW
MOONHIGH WINDCLAN PATROL - @SHARPPAW. , @GRANITEPELT , @HONEYJAW , @clearheart , @Maggotfur.
THUNDERCLAN PATROL - @FERNDANCE , @betonyfrost , @spiderfrost , @lilacfur , @JITTERPAW , @RIBBITLEAP , @BoneFang
HUNTING PATROL - @CHILLEDSTAR. , @BEARCLAW , @Needledrift , @TADPOLEPAW , @GECKOSCREECH , @spectermask , @EERIEPAW

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[FERNDANCE]

It seemed that placing her on the ThunderClan patrols was a favourite of Smogmaw's - not that Ferndance particularly minded, it was fun to make mischief with their uptight neighbours without it escalating into another war. But this time, they were under direct orders to 'practice decorum', and the cinnamon tabby's muzzle curled into an upright smile. "I am very good at decorating," she promised the Deputy with an assuring nod, her tail swishing in a rallying gesture towards the cats that had asked to accompany her. ThunderClan had either been super kind or super dumb to offer ShadowClan support in their time of need, regardless, she supposed it was only fair to return the favour by not acting as combative as she had done with WindClan - perhaps she could even make a fairweather friend, should those across the borders be appreciative of her sense of humour the same way some ShadowClanners were. Turning to her patrol, the ticked tabby mewed, "We will leave when it is most quiet, at dusk. Wear your best smiles, everyone! Practice on the way there with a buddy." Seven patrol members meant someone would be left out - how fortunate it was that Betonyfrost, the only other cat apart from Smogmaw allergic to smiling, would be with her.
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[COMFREYPAW]

Comfreypaw’s ears swivel as Smogmaw speaks, commanding and resolute. The young charcoal tabby trails close to Rosemire, listening with an ever-so-slight widening of clear amber eyes. The Carrionplace. Their deputy speaks of the season’s change. Comfreypaw had been born near the tail-end of newleaf, and life had always been warm for her. She’d heard about ShadowClan’s perilous winter before her birth, the winter her mother had lost the tips of her ears, but it’s always been some far-off thing to worry about. She gives Rosemire an anxious look, but the smile she offers is tremulous.

The Carrionplace. She does not know what beasts reside there, but she’s heard stories of rats pulling at the flesh and fur of hunting cats, of Pitchstar—some long-gone cat she’s never known—losing a life to their poisonous teeth. She puts on a brave face. “I’m ready when you are,” she murmurs to the pale figure looming beside her on long limbs. She thinks, StarClan forbid a bear has gone to sleep there… Smogmaw had told them about the loud noises, and she remembers the roars they’d emitted, like skin tearing beneath claws… She keeps her smile placid and warm, though, even though nightmares tumble behind her face.

✧ INFO.

•  
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  — comfreykit . comfreypaw
  — she/her, apprentice of shadowclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — short-haired charcoal tabby with amber eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meadowllark

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[Ternfrost.]

🕱 NO I DON'T MIND YOU ARE A BEAUTY 🕱

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maggotpaw & 09 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan apprentice​

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Tail swishing slowly, the girl hardly pays attention to the deputies call, too busy grooming her paws. That is, until her name is called - and mind slowly catches up to the fact that yet again she will be upon the windclan border. She wonders how many times fate will carry her there, how many times she will tread upon this twisting path, how many times she will see them, meet them. "Sure," she says dully, an absent minded sort of agreement - because really, he's not asking. The downside of being an apprentice she supposes - she has so little choice in the matter.

— not temptation, you're my creation ♛

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a massive tabby she-cat with striking turquoise eyes, there has always been something not-right about her. cold and apathetic, and more than a bit unhinged, the monster that is maggotpaw is a volitile presence within shadowclan. she seems strangely taken by magpiepaw, putting herself in role of both tormentor and protector.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=mediumpurple]action here[/color][/b] and tag account