THROUGH THE IRIS OF STONE [patrols]

༄༄ From now on, there is no more sharing of duties with her fellow lead warriors. Standing alone as the clan’s deputy means standing alone each day to send out patrols, hoping that each patrol is balanced and capable. She is still unused to being a voice of authority, more comfortable taking orders than giving them. But still she steps forth, addressing the clan as she believes a clan’s deputy should. "WindClan. Gather for today’s patrol assignments." Her voice is dull yet authoritative, but her expression is one of certainty. WindClan’s warriors are tougher than ever—they have to be, after all that they have endured. She trusts them all to perform their jobs properly.

"Pinkpaw, you will come with me to patrol along our tunnel to the twoleg bridge. Bluefrost," she casts a glance in the younger tunneler’s direction—there is forgiveness to be offered, yet little trust lingers, "Marmotbite, and Sootspot. You will come along as well." No longer will she keep Sootstar’s miniature out of her sight, away from her authority. No, the best place for his slime-coated silver tongue is right at her side, where she can keep a close eye on him. "Periwinklebreeze, take Nightingalecry, Gracklestep, and Downypaw along our border with the horseplace. Check up on the barn cats if you happen across them." She does not worry greatly for the cats there, because the flames never strayed too close to the barn, but still she wonders whether they are able to hunt effectively in the surrounding areas.

The next order of business will likely be a more tense patrol; their marsh-dwelling neighbors have not yet forgiven most WindClanners for their actions under Sootstar. "Slateheart, I would like for you to take the dawn patrol along ShadowClan’s border. Take Snowglare, Goldenstrike, Sparkspirit, and Quietpaw with you." It is an inoffensive group, one that is unlikely to provoke anger from the ShadowClanners. The best patrol is sure to provoke anger no matter how they are structured and presented, however. "Bluepool," her gaze softens as she looks upon her mate, her greatest love apart from her clan. She does not want to send Bluepool to the border of a clan that holds so much disdain for WindClan, but she knows that the silvery lead warrior can handle it. "Take Dimmingsun and Redheart to the RiverClan border at dusk,"

The tom who she looks upon next is not a warrior whom she trusts completely, but she is sending two loyal warriors to keep a close eye on him. "Addervenom. Take Gravelsnap, Foxglare with you at dawn to the ThunderClan border. Take Rivepaw as well." She hates to force Rivepaw away from her father, but Sunstar is in no shape to be up and roaming the territory. "Cottonpaw, I hope it is correct to assume that you and Wolfsong could use some extra eyes to find herbs. We can spare Whitedawn and Webthorn to go with you. That is all for today’s patrols. If you were not assigned to a patrol, seek me out and I will give you something to do." With that, the calico straightens, scanning the crowd of gathered cats for any protests or cats who desire assignments.

 
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A sense of normalcy trickles into WindClan's day with Scorchstreak's presence. Finally, a deputy, someone Sunstar can call his equal and another to turn to in the face of adversity. His temporary disappearance had hurt and felt like one of the Clan's limbs have been severed, much like his own fate, and those sharp eyes were the ones guiding them to safety. Newfound respect has wormed itself into Dimmingsun's heart, even if he initially - and still - disagreed with her abandonment of Sunstar.

It's all in the past now, though. She's proven herself in more ways than one.

"We'd better get ready," he says to Bluepool and Redheart, eyes scanning the clearing for Celandinepaw. Her return had been a huge weight off his chest.

The same relief couldn't be given to poor Featherpaw.

He can only hope the patrol will go nicely enough, without RiverClan painfully reminding them of the past week's troubles.
 
When their name is called, Downypaw looks for Rattleheart out of habit before they remember his state. A small, peculiar feeling of aloneness creeps up their tail. Only a few moons have passed since Sunstar reassigned them from Sootspot to Rattleheart, and here they are again, bereft of a mentor for the next six moons while Rattleheart's kittens grew and Sootspot earned the clan's trust back—if he was even trying.

Sometimes she just wants Sootspot to shut up, not because she disagrees with him, but to keep already-suspicious eyes off of him. Especially with Snakehiss gone, exiled. They're careful about studying Scorchstreak's face when they say his name, then Bluefrost's and Marmotbite's in turn. Another lifetime, marked by Newleaf and ended by flame and death, has passed since Sootstar died. Still in her blood and ideals she lingers.

At least Bearpa-Bearflight wasn't killed by her? Another wave of grief rips through them, leaving guilt pooling in its wake. There were cats more suited, more deserving to grieve him. And she couldn't even grieve him properly. It seems with every too-often thought they had to correct themself on his name.

Holding their breath, they quietly pad over to Periwinklebreeze and the others. A dip of their head hides the rapid fluttering of their eyes. "I'm ready," they mew levelly.

windclan apprentice | "speech." | tags
 

Surprise flickers behind smoldering amber eyes, well hidden beneath neutral stoicism. Hesitancy and mistrust flare within his core as he holds the deputy's gaze. His tongue swipes across ivory fangs, dispelling the pressing urge to question her intent. His demand to ask why lingers, hovering until the calico's attention drifts elsewhere. Was it a test? The thought of being scrutinized riled his prideful spirit, making his pelt threaten to prickle with irritation. The bridge of his nose nearly wrinkles before smoothing over once more. "Let's hurry up and get this over with." The chocolate tabby voiced as his head turned to those meant for his patrol and with a lash of his tail he prowled off.
»»———- windclan warrior / sixteen moons old / he/him ———-««
 
AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — She's still adjusting, it seems, to many things.

To her sister being the deputy of Windclan, a position that Scorchstreak certainly deserved but felt like such a monumental change nonetheless. Especially after moons spent with each of them trading the duty of patrol assignments, standing before everyone in turn to announce what they would have to worry about for the day. Then, of course, to the fact that her named hadn't been called alongside all the rest. In spite of her nest in the nursery and the growing swell of her stomach, she still found herself rousing from her slumber at the sound of their new deputy's call. Bright-eyed and attentive, waiting to see which border she would be sent to, and with who.

It was only after Downypaw's name was called out after Periwinklebreeze's that things finally seemed to sink in. Rattleheart was suddenly abundantly aware of how limited she was, knowing she wouldn't be of much help on any patrol at the moment. Hunting was out of the question with how clumsy she felt at the moment, and a border patrol was an enormous risk - what if a scuffle broke out, or worse? An herb patrol was about the only thing she was qualified in her current pregnant state, and even then she would be worried about trampling atop an important sprout.

Though it was hard for her to hide the disappointment from her expression, she seemed to bounce back fast. Her paws carried her quickly over to Downypaw's side, touching her nose to the top of their ear as she let out a mutter. "Good luck. Sorry I can't come with you, for now." Would she even be able to return to her training, before it was time for Downypaw to receive her warrior name? Such an event didn't seem likely, but Rattleheart still found herself silently wishing it would happen somehow, if only for their sake more than her own. They didn't deserve to feel abandoned by another mentor, not after Sootspot's way of doing things.


  • 75034712_8183RsjuzqJmQXv.png
    longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    51 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    currently mentoring downypaw
    somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
    all opinions are ic
 
OH, WHAT IT MEANS TO BE SOMEONE
THAT EVERYBODY HAS TO TALK TO
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periwinklebreeze 21 moons demi-boy windclan lead warrior
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78467824_a4pzKBESfsRFBod.png
Periwinklebreeze is tired - of everything really, but mostly just sleep deprived. Mismatched eyes blink slowly, before at last the tom nods - in all honesty, he hadn't quite expected to be graced with any more responsibilities, not now at least. Still... perhaps sunstar hadn't yet spoken to the council, or intended to make it official at the near meeting. Whatever the case, the boy stretches wearily and gets to his paws - nodding along to his deputy's orders. Downypaw is first to approach, and though for a moment he cannot tear his eyes away from the eerily familiar blue that shies away (surely, he's just hallucinating again) he speaks quietly to the eager apprentice. " W-we'll leave as soon as th-the others get here then, "

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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H EH ADN OO N ET H A TH EC O U L DT A L KT O
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// rushed & mobile
 
˚₊⋅───────── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ─────────⋅ ˚₊

At the very least he could take solace in another month of a life well-lived... He'd done his duty (even gone a bit above and beyond really, letting a whole ass dog chance him like a chew toy) and had been rewarded with not-death. Aurum eyes linger on Scorchstreak with an amused sense of pride- she too had been forced to make a hard decision and Sunstar had taken well to that quick thinking... Now if only she would've offered him a little bit of a reward himself for his hard work, he might've been more elated to do it.

Periwinklebreeze is not insufferable though... And he is more and more thankful that those that make him want to rip his ears off are tunnelers rather than moor runners. Stretching out lengthy urchin-like limbs, Gracklestep is as bothered with this as any other menial task... He wanders towards his shorter patrol members with an easy smile, glancing about for the straggler that has yet to wander over. "Should be a lot easier to patrol without the Twolegs getting in the way."
 
Pinkpaw was up, of course... A bit sleepy, but up. Would she have to get up extra early all the time now since Scorchstreak was deputy? That'd be a bit blegh, but maybe it's the tradeoff for getting to be the deputy's apprentice — she thinks this as she glances around the clearing with a very self - satisfied look. She already thought Scorchstreak was the coolest ever! Now everyone else had to think she was too! To the twoleg bridge... maybe they were gonna beat them up because of the fire. She heard a theory from someone that they started it... ugh.

" Yayy, Bluefrost! " she cheers. She hopes cats weren't mad at Bluefrost for being a little weird the other day. She makes sure to cheer extra loudly for Bluefrost, so she'd know Pinkpaw isn't mad at her, and so other cats would hear Pinkpaw and think, hey, if Pinkpaw isn't mad at her, then I shouldn't be either, huh?