border SWAM LIKE RATS ON FIRE | windclan dawn patrol

[SHALESTRIPE]

ShadowClan has their kits back. Snakehiss had told the lot of them to remain vigilant, and Shalestripe never intends to be anything else, but he supposes he can accept the extra bit of caution now. If Shalestripe were in their paws, he thinks he might flay the first WindClanner he sees alive, or maybe ambush their patrol, or something. Violence is often his first solution for getting rid of pests. But really, those kits belonged in WindClan — Sootstar would've given them a much better life than this murky swamp fit for little more than rotting in. Maybe they could noodle a few catfish out of the muck, if they were real smart, but Shalestripe has little intention of crossing their border. He's at least that smart.

Shalestripe coughs up something in his throat and spits it without care onto the thunderpath. The acrid stench doesn't bother him — he's used to much worse, really, and a little bit of tarmac won't spook him off his track. The only thing they'd have to look out for are angry ShadowClanners and monsters. Maybe if they could goad one across there'd be another Briarstar on the asphalt. Shalestripe lets out a kookaburra cackle at the thought. "Oo, alrighty," he finally rumbles, voice like oil-slick gravel. "Remember we ain't startin' no fights or whatever Snakehiss said. Keep yer wits n' whatnot." Though he says it, secretly Shalestripe would be happy for a chance to spark his claws against a ShadowClanner's. He misses the thrill of defending highstones against that ugly ThunderClanner, and he's eager for a chance to redeem himself against that failure — but really, he shouldn't, should he? Sootstar would give him other chances.

The rattlesnake tom presses a pad against the edge of the thunderpath, ratty tail flicking with anticipation.

/ @HARBINGERMOON @juncopaw @MOCKING-GRIN , no need to wait!

𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋!

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  — shale . shalestripe
  — he / him ; windclan moor-runner ; mentoring none
  — short-haired black smoke tabby tom with high white and amber eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, chibi by moonacre
  — penned by meghan; all opinions are IC!

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[MOCKING-GRIN]

Truth be told he is seething that Sunstride, a lowly worm returned the kits. The kits would have made fine Windclanners and were robbed of a better life than what Shadowclan had to offer. Unfortunately, it wasn't as if they could march into Shadowclan and drag the kits back to where they belonged. A nuisance. Sunstride ruined the lives of two kits. However, it is also because of his horrendous decision that all of them were able to cast out the rats among their ranks and become a better. A new deputy and new lead warriors to take over the seats those vermin once held. United under Sootstar and not Starclan would they prevail.

Disgust his face bore towards Shadowclan territory. He was thankful Sootstar deemed him worthy to go on a patrol, but he was dissatisfied that they couldn't just drag a shadowclanner over and claw at them. Something to release anger from a traitor's actions. Shalestripe's words are the only thing that keeps him steady. As much as he hates it, to go against Shalestripe is to against Sootstar's judgement. "Fine. No startin' fights, but if they raise a claw I hope you don't mind if I have at it." He would not be disrespected nor would his fellow clanmates. As long as Shadowclan played nice and kept their claws to themselves then this patrol should go smoothly.

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : —
  
• — mocking-grin / windclan moor runner / masculine pronouns / 24 moons
  — heterosexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — high white long haired chocolate smoke with heterochromia
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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chilledstar had a very high level of disdain for windclanners. it wasn't hard for that to be a thing. time and time again, they always proved to be such mousebrains, picking fights when they shouldn't have. causing wars. stealing prey. stealing kits. these cats are lucky, very lucky, that chilledstar had more sense about them than that of pitchstar. he would have gladly attacked this patrol without remorse, and though the thought it very tempting, they do not want to give starlingheart more to work with during leafbare. the season was hard enough without adding injuries to deal with, when herbs and prey were already so hard to come by.

their nose scrunched up with disgust as they looked over at the windclanners, looking at their apprentices with a huff.

"if there is one thing we've all learned, it's never to trust a windclanner. watch your backs, lest their claws be in it."

they growled, claws flexing protectively. they'd be damned if they let anything happen to their apprentices on their watch.

// apprentice tags @SCREECHPAW @APPLEPAW
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[Frostbite]

Frostbite stalks along the border when the scent of Windclan hits him, joining up with Chilledstar and his apprentices. His frigid gaze settles on the Windclanners at the border, his lip curling in disgust as he looks at each of them. Wretched little things, liars, cowards. He wants to rip them apart for what they did and he hopes that a reckoning is coming soon. He hopes it is a war, and he hopes it ends with the spilling of Windclan blood.

"Wretched little things, cowards and liars all~" He speaks his earlier thoughts, a condescending grin crossing his maw.

He keeps Poppypaw close to him, tail protectively drawing her close. He leans his head down to speak to her. "Remember their faces, Poppypaw. These are what the faces of depravity look like. You will never meet a cat more vile or corrupted than one of them." He says, looking at the Windclanners.

He almost wants them to come over here. He thinks its a possibility, considering their behaviour with Riverclan at the last gathering.

@POPPYPAW appwentice tag))​

 

[juncoclaw]

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- Juncopaw trailed behind her mentor, almost missing what Shalestripe said about playing nice and whatever as her eyes trained across the border into ShadowClan's depths. Yeah, yeah. No trouble. Why are you so boring? she wanted to spit back - though, truth be told, if there was trouble, she'd be one of the first to turn tail. Juncopaw was all bark, no bite, and border spats were a common example of this. Her demeaner makes this clear - with the conniving look spelled so clearly across her face, she was definitely trouble incarnate; but the way her paws carried her lightly, tail hanging so close behind her hind legs it could almost be hiding between them, she was ready to flee the moment things turned physical.

Even with the orders given, she could barely hold her tongue at the comments the ShadowClanners made. But, her reaction was not that of anger; it was pride in the descriptors that Frostbite and Chilledstar spoke of. Distrustful. Vile. Corrupted. The deeper insults of depraved and vile flew right between her ears. Before the mass exile of WindClan's most disloyal, she would have scorned such words - but Sootstar had said it herself. WindClan was to be feared. Kits were to be warned. The other Clans were to shudder at the mention of them. To see the patrol, even Chilledstar himself, warn each other about the treachery of WindClan, to watch their backs - it meant that WindClan was fulfilling its true purpose.

Remember their faces, Frostbite said. Again, the insult flies right past her - she ignores it, favoring the good over the bad. At that comment, Juncopaw lifts her chin, training her gaze on the other apprentice against the border. Indeed, they would do well to remember WindClan's faces, for they would be passed down in stories for generations as the strongest Clan in the forest. Of this, Juncopaw was now certain.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I AM THE ANGEL ⋅❁⋅ SENT DOWN FROM ABOVE ──┐‎

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  JUNCOPAW ✩ she/her, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, seven moons.
  ⭃ an antagonistic silver tabby she-cat with green eyes.
  ⭃ mate to no one. daughter to former gin rogues. apprentice of mocking-grin.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[APPLEJAW]

Anything but peaceful, is the only thing this patrol could possibly be. She thinks it's a feat to get much of a rise out of Chilledstar. A feat that WindClan has accomplished, perhaps more than once, now. Most of ShadowClan could not stand to glance across the border without a wrinkle in their nose. Applepaw can only find it in herself to stare blankly, eyes long past the patrol of WindClan warriors that greet them; going into the moors beyond. She wonders if her mentor— if Granitepelt sat across this border, nestled comfortably within Sootstar's camp, relishing in prey that wasn't stringy and running across fields that did not want to muddy your fur.

If there is one thing we've all learned, it's never to trust a windclanner. Apparently, WindClan was not even all it took. You could be any miserable cat, and someone worse could still dig their claws into you. ...Was that what she was?

Applepaw pushes the thought away, nodding stiffly.

She thinks Frostbite may be laying it on a little thick, but perhaps that's what a traitor would think. The sigh she gives is through her nose, long and deep.

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

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• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 8 moons old as of 11.17.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applepaw is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. Naturally talented, and a rule - follower to a T, she thinks herself better than the majority of her peers. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

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[SCREECHSTORM]

Another patrol stuck alongside Chilledstar and Applepaw is upon him, only void of oak forest scent and stupid questions. It is the moors that engulfs his nose this time, a warning filling his ears. Never trust a WindClanner — Chilledstar tells him something he already knows. They were kit stealers, but, then again, so was Granitepelt; so was a ShadowClanner.

He thinks Applepaw doesn't have to be told either, thinks she doesn't have to hear Frostbite's words that follow suit. Vile traitors; her mentor was one too. Split-green eyes look to his mentor, looks to their unsheathed claws. He unsheathes his own too, believes he's prepared for a fight part of him hopes only stays in his imagination.

" Right, " he says with a flick of the tail, confirming to Chilledstar that he was at least sort of listening, as his gaze peers across the way toward wavering hills, a home opposite in nature to his. What lies there, other than thieves and murderers? He can't help but wonder, as claws idly dig into the soil beneath him. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  SCREECHKIT ‣ SCREECHPAW
  ── Apprentice of ShadowClan
  
  ── Forestshade x Vulturemask
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A black/red tabby chimera with mismatched green eyes.
  ── Mentored by Chilledstar
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

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[SERPENTSPINE]

” drooling beasts, the lot of them. “ he speaks, gazing out over the windswept border with a gaze of undisguised disdain — as if looking at something rotten, feels the ick in his eyes like a pocket of maggots. his arrival had been unstated, accompanied by nothing nothing more than a breath of undergrowth as he pulls himself from its shadows to take his place aside chilledstar. he is ghastly aside them ; something long and stretched, bulbous where his joints knot against thin limbs. his tail aims to flick easily against frostbite’s side. there were some that would condemn shadowclan for granitepelt’s actions, condemn their home and peers for not knowing the intricacies of scum and disloyalty that made up the tom’s brain matter.

windclan had manipulated him ; it was clear as anything else was, how far sootstar’s talons sank. there is a child on the opposing side, grinning as if receiving motherly praise at frostbites snark. embarrassment twists ugly in his chest ; for the apprentice, for the moor queen that whispers these things in her ear until she looks for them in the faces of other clans. what a pitiful life to lead. screechpaw unsheathes his claws, like many of them had, prepared for a fight with eyes flicking upwards towards chilledstar, imploring. waiting, he thinks, and the black tom can only appreciate that the unruly apprentice had taken the time to look. the man cranes his neck down, speaks to him and perhaps frostbite, their bodies tight and wound with the urge to rip those proud expressions from the wind rat’s faces.

” but a kept dog will not bite without permission. “ a rumbling growl, flat as his lowering ears, ” and their master is nowhere near. “ a step out of line for them meant punishment he couldn’t fathom. let them be proud of their imprisonment.

𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 . ⊹ . ࣪ ˖ 𓄒 ࣪ 𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒

• i.
  
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  SERPENTSPINE ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𓆦 HE / HIM, YOUNG WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN. JAGGED xx SHADOW, YOUNGER BROTHER TO CHILLEDSTAR. FIFTEEN MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE BRACKISH WATER & COPPER. PENNED BY ANTLERS ---------
  skeletal black tom with ghost rosettes and blood orange eyes. oil - slick rot & buzz of hungry horseflies crowding sloughing meat, he is born of his surroundings, forged black like the writhing insects that permeate his homelands. shaped in strands of shadow, long and bony ; a coat of scruffy, rosette - splotched obsidian feathering messily over his gaunt form. maned like a viper in shades of salt and pepper, splintering fur cast in a mock hood along a slim, vertebrae - bumped neck. his name has suited him since birth, eased into the world a long, writhing thing, with limbs of stretching shadow pawing blind at the shadowclan muck. his ears and eyelids are thin - membraned, thick - veined and stark against the darkness of his face. a strange, spidering thing ; broad - shouldered and tall in his maturing age, poor posture bringing his serpentine muzzle to a low, drooping hang.
  
  

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