the devil's pass & windclan patrol

[Juniperfrost]

It was a small patrol, but ThunderClan did not exactly have a proper border with them; Fourtrees was a clear divide between the forest and the moors and it was a sacred land of battle that no cat with any sense would dare cause a scene upon. As such, he opted for company that would make it even swifter and not cause him any duress. Spiderbloom was, well she was certainly something, but she did not grate his nerves as many did and accompanying them was his own apprentice and young Icepaw. The quiet little molly would hopefully, eventually, grow out of her softspoken demeanor and find her own place in the clan as a more esteemed warrior but young cats had a tendency to balk under too much pressure so he carefully balanced his misgivings. She'd be fine, eventually, but she was also a tunneler and not generally his problem.
Juniperfrost didn't have much an opinion of the tunnelers outside disinterest; it was a nonsensical rank for cats less suited to other duties but he supposed it had its merits. Icepaw probably would not get to go on patrols often with that sort of duty so when he sought her out he was surprised by her apprehension. Though maybe it was because he was talking to her.

He had that affect on cats and he knew it but if his lack of afflictions and expression was that offputting then oh well. Nothing to be done about it.

"Right, let's make quick work of this and be on our way." He would prefer they kept their social pleasantries to a minimum but would not begrudge the apprentices their introduction to other clan cats, so long as they behaved.


Apprentice tag - @WINDPAW
Patrol tag - @Spiderbloom & @icepaw
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[Spiderbloom]

Spiderbloom didn't care about thunderclan. She kept her relationships within her clan. Even then, she was distant. Easier to mourn when you weren't so close to the dead.

She followed Juniperfrost to the border and got to work. She didn't think much of him either, though he did look like he was fun to bother and Jasperglare was sick, leaving her by her lonesome.

Juniperfrost will have to do.

She rubbed her face on a patch of tall grass.

"Be on our way? And miss out on this gorgeous weather???" She asked, jokingly.

It was cold. It sucked.
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[Stormchaser]

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Out within the depths of the forest was calming to one used to being under the sacred protection of towering trees, they shielded ThunderClan through most of the ice-gripping winds and the fallen snow. Though, sometimes a mind does wander what it would be like living somewhere else besides under the shelter of the thick treeline. Stormchaser loved the clutches of the forest, winding between thick tendrils of underbrush and vines. The splotches of sunlight that dappled and danced along the forest floor, it was almost serene. But, what would it be like under an open sky, or wading in a rush river—or even beneath pines so thick that the sky was nearly always hidden from the naked eye?
The lean warrior had been out on a hunting patrol, split up in search of whatever scrap of food that could be caught. So far, he caught one measly mouse. One. Not to mention it wasn't even big enough to feed a young apprentice. But, he digressed, food was food to a hungry belly.
A shift in the breeze had his narrow nose twitching, his tall angular ears rotating as a scuffling sound was made. Sharp, golden eyes would narrow a scrawny hare was scavenging in the snow under the trees. He dropped low into a crouch, his shoulders flexing as he moved like a gray ghost through the underbrush. Food. His mouth watered uncontrollably at the scent. He had to catch it. He had to feed the others back home. A hare would feed at least two cats. With a monstrous leap, his powerful hind legs propelled him forward to a sprint. Although he chose to live within ThunderClan, his body was suited well for the chase. His lean frame and powerful limbs, he'd no doubt make a good WindClanner, but alas, he didn't know if living out on the open was for him.
A voice was heard not too far off, the hare had heard the footsteps of Stormchaser and the others—his prey was now on the highest of alerts. It took off at blinding speed, heading towards the safety of open moorland where it could hide within tall grass. Stormchaser pounded the ground, his heart thundering in his chest as he sprinted and growing closer to a cotton-white tail. It was close—too close for comfort. The ThunderClan warrior had to make a split second decision or risk losing it altogether. He leaped for it, ivory claws outstretched and ready to feel soft fur under him.
But he was met with the cold, frozen ground beneath him. He tumbled into a heap of fur and claws, the hare darting away from the treeline and up onto the moor away from the WindClan patrol that had been marking the border. "Damnit!" Stormchaser cursed, slamming a paw onto the ground before shaking himself off. Apart if him wanted to continue to chase it onto the moor and pay no mind to the border patrol nearby, but Stormchaser knew better. Emberstar would have lined her bedding with his pelt.
Instead, Storm turned to the small patrol with a half narrowed gaze. Apart of his failed hunt was surely due to their voices being heard. "Afternoon." He grumbled, taking note of the trio that stood a few feet away from him. His pride had taken a down fall after that failure, not to mention in front of cats from another clan who most likely watched the whole scenario go down.​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — The majority of the patrolling Icepaw does takes place underground, which they're generally content with; they have little interest in the other Clans, and it's hard not to worry about the risk of skirmishes when she's so small and feels so fragile. Combat's never been her strong suit. It doesn't help that WindClan and ThunderClan have such a bad relationship; even if their borders are separated by Fourtrees, sacred ground makes for a flimsy barrier against anyone hostile enough to disregard it.

Juniperfrost's daunting presence and combat prowess make her feel more secure, at least, which is ironic considering he's partially the source of her current anxiety. She's always found him intimidating, but her apprehension toward him has skyrocketed since the whole Yewberry incident; he takes absolutely no shit, and she's not confident in her ability to meet his standards. They have to keep reminding themselves that this is just a border patrol — it's not like there's much they can even do to mess up, so this is probably the safest way to try and earn his good graces. Unless we have to fight. But they probably won't, realistically speaking. It's just hard to believe it when her paranoia's running a mile a minute. But, to be fair, when is it not?

The worry that she'd accidentally, reflexively expressed when she was first recruited for the patrol is ostensibly subsiding; she makes a point to carry herself as confidently as possible, trying her best to look strong and sure of herself in front of Juniperfrost — and the others, but that's a bit less urgent in her mind. Her body still betrays her nerves, though, with ever so slightly prickling hackles, a twitching tail, and pale eyes darting this way and that in search of trouble. "Right," she murmurs in response to the patrol's leader, more than happy to comply and get home as quickly as possible.

She's in the process of marking a large, flat rock when a commotion suddenly snatches her attention. Jumping back a bit from surprise, they look up to see an angry heap of fur and a streak of white, the latter of which darts off into the moors. Icepaw's too caught up in her shock to really process that it's a hare, and that it might be a good idea to tear off in pursuit of it; all she can do for a moment is just blink down at the warrior and watch in tense silence as he collects himself and rises to his paws. He's evidently not in the best mood — and who can blame him? She would be mortified if she were in his position. At least he seems to be alone, but for all she knows more ThunderClanners are lurking close by. She hates how difficult it is to see into their territory, so densely packed with trees and undergrowth, and how comparatively easy it is to observe WindClan's open moorland. "Uh- hi." She refrains from saying more, and simply looks to the warriors accompanying her for guidance. It's definitely better to just pretend that fiasco didn't happen.
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[LITTLE WOLF]

Little Wolf followed the rest of the patrol through thunder clan's territory, her black fur standing in stark contrast with the white snow that blanketed the ground. She is sniffing the air for prey when all of a sudden one of her clan mates take off like his tail is on fire. A gray blur streaks past her and heads right to the Wind Clan border. Little Wolf watches with wide green eyes, fear for Stormchaser making her heart pound wildly in her chest. She relaxes though when he stops himself right before crossing.

She lets out a breath that she hadn't known she had been holding and moves to join her fellow thunder clanner. Wind Clan was not a group she was fond of. She had seen their "warriors" they were all children. Not to mention the self-mutilation and their leader who seemed to be set on the path of war at all costs. She remembers when Soot had lived in the marshes with them, Little Wolf, and her family. And she remembers how much she had pushed war with the kittypets of the pines. Her opinion of the blue smoke had not changed much since then.

"You'll get em next time Storm" she says with a sympathetic glance cast in the blue-gray toms direction before she turns to the moorland patrol "How's the prey running?" she asks. She loathes small talk but these meetings were always so awkward, what else was she supposed to say?

// apprentice tag @RAGWORTKIT
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