TO KEEP THE LINES FROM DOUBLING !! ⚠︎ !! shadowclan hunting patrol

[Swansong]

Soft paws pad across the Thunderpath, onto that cursed strip of land. Blood soaks the soil, every blade of grass a reminder of what has been lost. It hangs heavy in the air, the knowledge. The ghosts that claim this earth are vengeful ones, and Swansong breathes a shaky breath into the night.

She carefully avoids looking at the cat that lost them this precious spot. Now is not the time for grudges, it is the time for making things right. "Keep quiet..." Ghostlight eyes sweep across the endless rows of trees, ears perked. "And be swift," she whispers. They are downwind, for now. They will know if a patrol seeks them out, though she prays that the lateness of the night will spare them. The stretch between moonhigh and sunrise is not long, but with luck it will be enough. A flick of her tail, and the hunt begins.

Creeping through the undergrowth is not so different from the reeds of the marshlands, especially so close to the border. Their ears quickly sift past the scent of crickets to find a soft snuffling, and she does not need to see to know where to pounce.

Claws catch on the soft feathers of a nightjar just as its companion takes flight, and her movements are swift. A bite to the neck, then an outstretched paw to catch the straggler before the same blow is delivered.

She heaves a rattly breath of exertion, hunger panging at her stomach. Time will only tell if this prey rots the same.

// patrol: @SHARPSHADOW @jitterbug @SCREECHSTORM @Snowlark. @promisepaw
(apprentices may be brought at mentors' discretion, feel free to tag)

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆

SWANSONGㅤ BIOGRAPHY ㅤ/ ㅤTOYHOU.SE
★ demigirl ( she / they ) ㅤ& lesbian, mate to poppyglow (npc'd)
★ㅤ 24 moons old & ages realistically, every 17th of the month
★ㅤ warrior of shadowclan for 12 moons
★ ㅤhalfshade x smogstar ㅤ& littermate to applejaw, ashenfall, garlicheart
★ㅤ ㅤmentored agaterain, swallowflutter & mentored by skunktail, sabletuft
★ㅤ penned by saturnid & ㅤmessage saturnids on discord for plots!

"SPEECH"

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] Breaking the warrior code was not something Snowlark was truly fond of doing, yet Mintkit and Frigidkit's health was something that drove him to agree to such a risk, for them, for the clan who most are becoming sick, their food spoiling quicker than they could dine. This was much different fron last new-leaf where the land had been overly plentiful with frogs that it drew predators too close to their camp and Snowlark took a soft breath in and out.

He wasn't going to drag Frozenpaw into this, not after constantly reciting the code to his apprentice, the paw didn't need to know his mentor was breaking the code, out of desperation of course, but nonetheless he knew it wasn't right despite how hunger knawed at his stomach. Yellow gaze fixated onto a plump squirrel befors swiftly taking it out, nof allowing it to alert to the hunting Shadowclan was up to, he guess they'll see if they truly were cursed to die with whatever they hunt on this land.

❄

SnowlarkㅤBIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
✦ Trans FTM (he / him)ㅤ/ㅤBi-sexual/Demi-Romantic
✦ㅤ18 moons oldㅤ/ㅤAges on the 3rd
✦ㅤLead Warrior of Shadowclan for 5 moons
✦ㅤHailfreckle x Mudsplashㅤ/ㅤN/A
✦ㅤmentoring Frozenpawㅤ/ㅤmentored by Mirestar
✦ "Speak" ❄ Thoughts
✦ㅤpenned by Rynnarooㅤ/ㅤmessage Rinnaroo on discord for plots!

A pale blue sepia lynx long-haired tom where the majority of his body is covered in white, pale yellow eyes that are normally unreadable by most. His sole blue ear was nicked from an accident that happened to him as an apprentice, something he carries with honor. Snowlark is considered strange by most due to his usual "stoic" tones underlined by his immaturity at times, be it pulling pranks on others, to making out-of-pocket jokes or moments of outbursts of anger, Snowlark is strange but isn't one afraid to be blunt and tell one how it is.

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

SCREECHSTORM

HE / HIM | SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR

Though there is a thrill in this, in something different to do on this border, it's not excitement that outways his wariness to step foot on the thunderpath, but the hunger that's begun to claw at his stomach. Screechstorm's learned from the last time his paws hit the asphalt — he remembers bracing himself, remembers tumbling back at his brother's efforts — and is sure to double, triple-check that he's not within starlight's glow before following after Snowlark and Swansong in the endeavor. Though StarClan might curse them further for this, he doesn't want to anger Sweetpaw, doesn't want his littermate to think he doesn't remember.

Is this right, this, to steal? Probably not. Screechstorm knows, as someone who already toes the line, that it breaks the code in some way. In normal circumstances, his sister might never let him hear the end of it, but StarClan has led them to this point, has poisoned their fresh-kill pile and tainted ShadowClan's efforts to replenish it. Would Briarthorn hail him a hero now, if he brought something edible back?

His mother would've done the same, he convinces himself, as a night-dark form slips under oak-branched shadows. His mother would've fed her clan at any cost, he believes, as a parted maw catches hold of squirrel scent. A red-rimmed gaze is quick to find the form, silver-flecked fur standing out in the moonlight, and he surges forward to deliver a killing blow to the rodent.

Thank you, StarClan, he silently shares his gratitude to his ancestors, a taunting glance sent toward the sky — as if daring them to take his hard-earned catch, this hard-earned meal for his starving clan.

Screechstorm is a lithe, scruffy-furred tom, who appears almost as a shadow, save for red tabby markings appearing as light filtering through branches and the scars at his sides. His eyes, each a different shade of green, carry a mischievous glint — often in tandem with his crooked grin.

- Forestshade x ???⋅ Single
- Sibling to Briarthorn, Sweetpaw †
- Mentored by Chilledstar † ⋅ Mentor to no one
- Penned by Abri

 

[jitterbug]

Jitterbug doesn't believe in ghosts. Ey doesn't believe in curses, either, but ey knows better than to trust the land beneath eir paws. There's something wrong with it—the taste of rot lingers too thick in the air, the ground feels too still, like it's waiting for something. But none of that matters. What matters is that eir clanmates are starving, and sitting around waiting for StarClan to fix things won't fill anyone's belly.

Ey moves with quick, precise steps, body tense with the anticipation of sound. The others creep, hesitant, haunted, but Jitterbug is not haunted. Ey is hungry, and hunger is louder than any lingering dead thing. Ey doesn't hesitate when ey hears the shuffle of prey, doesn't let the weight of superstition slow em down. Eir body reacts before eir thoughts catch up—an explosive leap, claws latching onto something soft and warm. The struggle is brief, and then there is silence.

Eir nose wrinkles at the scent.Eir tail flicks sharply, irritation rising like bile. This shouldn't be necessary. Ey shouldn't have to be here, risking being attacked by the other Clan for a piece of fresh-kill that might turn to poison in eir mouth. Eir eyes dart to the others, watching them move, watching them hesitate. Some of them still pray. Ey doesn't. Ey doesn't waste breath on questions that won't get answered. What matters is the hunt. What matters is bringing something back. Jitterbug grips eir catch a little tighter and moves forward. Whatever ghosts haunt this place, ey won't be lingering long enough to meet them.​