border to make you press rewind } windclan patrol

[RATTLEHEART]

Thunderclan. One of the few other clans that Rattleheart found herself without much a problem with, mainly thanks to the seeming levelheadedness of their leader. Howlingstar hadn't - as far as their new leader had said - received Sunstride's news with vitriol or threats, a fact alone that was enough to endear the tunneler to her. Still, there were always threats at any other clan's border to worry about, and she refused to let herself relax too much as a result. Especially considering Sootspot was along with them, the tom seeming to have an uncanny penchant for putting his paw in his mouth even when he was trying to get on the good sides of others. His questioning about her father wouldn't be leaving her mind anytime soon, the memory alone enough to make her wince in confusion.

At least it didn't take too long for all of them to reach the line of trees in the distance, the towering oaks still barren thanks to leafbare but also painfully unfamiliar. She didn't understand how any of them could handle feeling so cramped all the time. Her attention then flicked over to the rest of her patrol, hesitating only momentarily to figure out the best course of action. "...Remember, we're not here for any trouble, just to mark the border and make sure things look alright. I don't want anyone picking fights. That said... don't be afraid to keep your chins up. Just because we don't want a fight doesn't mean we want anybody thinking Windclan would make a good target right now." They needed to be demonstrating pride in their own clan, not venom towards Thunderclan. That was what she left the rest with before she stepped forward once more to take care of the border, making sure to keep an eye out for any Thunderclanners.

// @redpaw @SOOTSPOT @downypaw @slatetooth
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[leafhusk]

thunderclan’s territory felt like the mouth of the forest to leafhusk. perhaps that’s a bias, but she found it beautiful how the trees appeared to spill out when you get towards the edge. she didn’t mind feeling cramped, the stray leaves and sticks are a bother, but the molly certainly feels safer than out in the open. she’ll never understand how windclanners can run out in the open like that, all the time. it makes her grimace just thinking about it.

speak of the devil and he shall appear, apparently. leafhusk brushes past the ferns to notice the windclan patrol. howlingstar brought the clan to speed last meeting, declaring that windclan was in better paws. but it didn’t mean they weren’t free from the politics. "windclan, hello." she greets, giving a small dip of her head. the colorpoint stands at a respectable distance; not too far, not too close. if things suddenly turned south, they’d have to really get close.

"how are you adjusting?" she didn’t see much reason to be that antagonistic. the tension is thick as it is, there’s no need to send it crashing down.​

 

[downyfur]

Downypaw finds the trees lining the ThunderClan border do not bother her as much as they do other WindClanners. She would be in shadow her whole life, it seems, from the nursery den to the tunnels to the barn and back into the tunnels. The ever-present rustling of the trees' leafless branches is not much different than the dry, light creaks of the wintering moorgrass in the wind.

Rattleheart's voice cuts through the smattering of shadow and sound, just as the musky scent of ThunderClan becomes apparent. They give him a nod, though they're not sure if he would catch it through Sootspot's body in the way. Continuing through the sparser brush on the WindClan side of the border, they find they necessarily have to keep their chin high to avoid being poked by the little scraggly bushes.

They're studying a particularly large tree on the ThunderClan side when a clump of ferns splits in half nearby, birthing a tall, neat-lookjng feline. She peers at them with eyes as green as her forest must be in Greenleaf, and Downypaw smiles instinctivelytowards her. "Hello." ThunderClan is markedly friendlier than RiverClan, to them at least; it lends a genuine note to their smile. As for her other question, they glance back towards either their mentor or Rattleheart, feeling like it would look out of place for an apprentice to speak for all of WindClan.​

 

[freckleflame]

leafhusk seems eager to greet the moorlanders that mill about their borders, eager to keep the trembling semblance of peace that constantly wavers over the grassy hills. a semblance of peace they had to harness, to cultivate. freckleflame is less sure, frowns light at the sudden aura of friendliness that permeates from them despite moons of bloodshed ; she approaches, scans briefly for blue striped fur and feels the dull sting of petulant disappointment once again. her gaze snags only once reaching a tom — older, a warrior, familiar from passing gatherings alone. he looked like her. the fallen moor queen, wherever she was, had mothered this one.

a tall ear flicks almost dismissively. almost. rubbing her cheek against the bark of a nearby tree, freckleflame trills an even, ” yeah, how are ya? i s’ppose runnin’ rabbits comes even easier now, what with all that weight off your shoulders. “ she’s unsure of how the clan would take it, but offense was far from her main concern. at least she could say she was cordial.

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

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  FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. SEVENTEEN MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING COUGARPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS --------------------------------------------
  
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! every part of her is broad ; wide in everything from her face to shoulders to her feathered tail, something reminiscent of her father’s kittypet heritage in the square of her chin and hulk of her figure. she appears illusionarily fluff - ridden at first, thickly pelted in shades of fire and soot, long & tangled, knotted with undergrowth — seeming soft and pudgy, and she is.. that figure curving into hard, hidden bulk along heavyset flanks and well - muscled limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers.
  

  prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.

  
  

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[slateheart]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Slatetooth can't remember the last time he's been on patrol, much less the last time he's seen another Clan besides his own fractured one. His nervousness spikes as they near the ThunderClan border; despite Sunstride's words of passivity from Howlingstar, he can't help but worry about the reputation WindClan has held for moons, and what it would spell for the cats left to pick up the pieces.

At Rattleheart's words, the black-furred tom gives a stiff nod in reply. Confident, but not arrogant. As if Slatetooth could be confident at all; though his chin is raised, his expression displays uncertainty. As he stops to mark a spot along the border, a ThunderClan patrols shows up to parallel them. To his relief, they don't seem unfriendly, aside from the pointed glance towards Sootspot. Slatetooth follows Freckleflame's gaze to the blue warrior, and finds himself sympathizing for him. He knew what it was like to be seen as a mere extension of his parent; he didn't know, however, if Sootspot wore that inheritence with pride or disdain.

Two of the warriors, a fawn point first and a tortoiseshell second, extend their greetings. After a moment's hesitation, Slatetooth dips his head in return. If he had to practice his friendliness and sociability, now was as good a time as any. "Greetings, ThunderClan," he replies in greeting. "We are adjusting well." He gives another polite nod towards Freckleflame, though is unsure how to respond to her comment. Was that.. humor? Or a genuine inquiry into their hunting? "Uh.. yes. Rabbit hunting is going well," he responds awkwardly, giving an uncertain glance towards Rattleheart. Am I saying the right things?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I SEND HIM A SMILE ⋅❁⋅ HE TELLS ME LOOK DOWN ──┐‎

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• SLATETOOTH ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 19 moons.
  ⭃ a short-furred black tom with low white markings and green eyes.
  ⭃ son of LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE // brother to GRAVELSNAP, ASHPAW
  ⭃ 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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[SOOTSPOT]

There is a dreaded familiarity to ThunderClan's territory, the trees towered over them and the smell of oak still plagued his nostrils moons after being chased from the land by rogues. The trust he'd had in their neighbour had been tentative back then, built on appreciation for their gesture and calm leader (though he'd loathed they hadn't given them the camp to share, seeing how a united front would've destroyed the rogues much sooner). He wasn't sure if he expected grief for a fallen leader to reach their eyes, the idea seemed absent, save for a glance from another as he were Sootstar himself. Pride caused him to tilt his head to the sky. How are you adjusting? A head tilt, followed by a smile twisting in confusion. It must be a weight off of your shoulders. His tail lashed. They were taunting him under the guise of small talk, asking about WindClan using the words they did. Rattleheart had to see it too, but he doubted the other Tunneler would defend him, only if he could shed his coat to become their leader did he think she'd ever raise a paw for a clanmate. Claws came out, hidden by the knots of grass that made up WindClan's border.

"The ghosts are still a heavy presence, I am afraid," he replied to Freckleflame in a rasp, dipping his head in greeting. Many specters had found the chimera this moon, many of his own making, some powered by the deceit and treachery of those around him. Honesty was a policy forgotten moons ago by his home, but each new lie stung like a bee, each false justice reminded him no one had ever fought for his own - they hadn't even let him see his own mother before she was put to death. A glance to Slatetooth and Rattleheart, before he puffed his chest out like a crowing rooster. "But the Stars blessed WindClan when they made us closest to them, prey has been no less eager to fall into our maws despite everything."



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[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — There's a certain amount of relief to be found in the fact that they're not immediately greeted with hostility, Rattleheart silently letting out the breath she had been holding as Leafhusk appeared. There was no hostility radiating off of the colorpoint, and though her companion seemed more wary than she was, it didn't seem as though any violence would be erupting between their two groups. Sootspot even seemed to be on his best behavior, in spite of the somewhat pointed look leveled in his direction. That was the one thing that the tunneler could give him - he'd never be able to escape the association to his mother through looks alone. Not, at least, until every last soul aware of her crimes had gone to be with Starclan. That alone had to be a heavy burden, even if she had her doubts about Sootspot himself seeing it that way.

Giving a brief nod to both Downypaw and Slatetooth - a gesture of reassurance to both of their unsure faces - she offered both Leafhusk and Freckleflame a smile, tail held high behind her. "As Sootspot said, the moors have been kind to us. Leafbare is cruel to every clan, but we've at least been able to recover from the troubles that we've been through." That was all she considered Sootstar to be now, thank Starclan. A trouble to be left behind in the past, and for Windclan to grow from. Rattleheart could only hope that the other clans would feel similarly, and be able to give all of them a second chance in the same way that Starclan had. She didn't exactly expect any of them to be buddy buddy anytime soon - it had been many moons since she had even seen a true alliance formed between clans - but there could, at the very least, be a sense of peace for them all.

A first step to that would be mutual kindness though, so she didn't hesitate in flicking her tail off towards the towering trees that stood out behind both Thunderclan warriors. "I hope that these last few moons haven't been too harsh on Thunderclan, either? The trees themselves may be barren, but surely the prey that makes homes of them haven't completely run off?" She was being genuine as well, not just wishing them well to try and patch over old wounds. Howlingstar had been kind to Windclan in the past, and she saw no reason to want them to starve and suffer through a harsh Leafbare - especially when it would provide no benefit to her home if they did.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

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  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 48 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

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[leafhusk]

venom is missing from her words, but her stare contains a thin layer of ice. it’s only mutual, thunderclan may be one of the more softer clans, but the molly won’t make the patrol think differently. the windclan patrol should consider themselves lucky, because leafhusk is a trying diplomat. she’ll match their civility if it means teeth won’t be bared today.

her tortoiseshell companion was cordial, as far as leafhusk could tell. she’s not sure she could handle them alone, despite the neutral conversation, the air is still tense and it’s difficult to ignore. a small puff of air slips through her maw, the cold air from a dying leafbare floats away. each cat is glossed over for the most part, save a few polite smiles. if the glares from the blue tom bugged her, she didn’t let it show.

leafhusk’s attention turns back to the moor cats, "it’s good that the moors are plentiful. hopefully, with newleaf approaching, it only continues." small talk, this is easy. she rubs her shoulder across some bark, before she speaks up again, "the prey in the forest is plentiful, as always. we’ve had struggles with deer lingering about, but they’re harmless and should leave as it warms up."​