To the sound of drums {Windclan Patrol}

[Moonshadow]

ALL THE KING'S HORSES​

---

If she spoke truthfully, Moonshadow does not mind the boggy scent of Shadowclan territory. Eyes of smoldering dark sapphire would remain trained straight ahead as pillars of onyx and alabaster carried her and her patrol toward the border. There were here to mark it, nothing more or less, and while Hyacinthbreath had warned them against causing mischief, Moonshadow had enough respect for the three warriors behind her than to bother repeating it once they were there.

If any cat caused trouble, she would handle it as was her duty as the leader of this unit. She would stop a tail-length away from the scent markers, and wave her tail for her clanmates to begin the process. She would remain still, watching the pine trees with ears alert in case any shadowclanners came to greet them.

//
@WEASELCLAW @ravensong @Bunnyhop

feel free to post before those tagged!
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[Bunnyhop]

I-I-I've got a migraine
And my pain will range from
Up down and sidewaysS ✧​

Dappled paws moved across the grassy ground beneath them and they bounded up beside that of Moonshadow, "WEll this will be exciting! Seeing our new allies and stuff," He said brightly to the smokey she-cat. Bunnyhop hadn't been to the feast and had just learned of the alliance, they were often too air headed to remember such things, and he was always up for new friends! ​

 

[BOARJAW]

boarjaw, in all honesty, doesn't care for the alliance pitchstar has made with windclan. he thinks pitchstar is a fool if he believes there is true good intention behind sootstar's promises; no one cares for enemy groups. it's all a fight for survival. alliances are nothing more than mutually beneficial relationships, purely transactional in nature. and boarjaw would prefer to keep all of shadowclan's assets to themselves.

but, hey, at least they'd gotten a good meal out of 'em.

stumbling upon a border patrol from the moorland clan, boarjaw goes to ignore them in favor of checking the border. one ear twitches in the direction of the perky one, but aside from that, he offers no indication of a greeting. however, his attention does not divert from them, observing the patrol closely as he works.​

 

[wolverinefang]

♠ PALMS UP, CATCH THE LIGHTNING ♠​

Alliance-shmyance. He's sure it'll be up in smoke sooner than later but who would turn away a meal right before leaf-bare and at least the feast was an excuse to get to look at girls he doesn't see everyday. Here's another one now with some green-eyed shrimp but for all his ponderings, its hard for him to actually talk to ladies properly. Wolverinefang comes to stand beside Boarjaw, smiling enthusiastically with a hefty frog leg sticking out of the side of his mouth like a big cigar.

He slurps it down, coughs a little. He can do this, he can talk in the direction of a female and not die. "Hey... Welcome to the marsh... What's Windclan up to?" Nailed it.​

♠ ♥ ♣ ♦​

 

[Smallstorm]

LOOK OUT, THEY'RE CLOSING IN ON YOU NOW
WAKE UP, OR YOU'LL WAKE UP SIX FEET DOWN
NOBODY'S GOT YOUR BACK IN THIS TOWN
KNOCK 'EM IN THE TEETH NOW

---

Smallstorm was like a dog who'd caught the scent of a rabbit whenever he happened across the scent of a cat that didn't belong to Shadowclan. Morbid curiosity always seemed to drive him forth, the promise of being able to tease or taunt or fight- to establish that it was Shadowclan that was truly in charge around here- was always to tempting to pass up. And so, when the scent of Windclan met his nose while out with his border patrol that day, the short, chaotic little tomcat was quick to stride forward, falling into step behind Boarjaw as they began to remark their own scentlines.

As Bunnyhop spoke though, vibrant amber eyes would shift to land on them, and his lips would pull into a big, sweet smile. To the Windclanners it would seem entirely innocent and well-meaning, but Wolverinefang and Boarjaw would know it for exactly what it was- his 'I want something' face.

"Yup, we're all allies here!" he would agree with a nod, stepping toward the border with a flick of his tail. "Say friend, now that we're all on the same side here, what do you say me and you work out a little deal to celebrate our newfound friendship? Like... oh, maybe.. a prey swap?"

Smallstorm may have been born in the marshes and would die in the marshes, but that didn't mean he had to like the food. "I'll bring you two of our yummiest prey, and you can bring me two of yours- how about it?"

​

---

shadowclan warrior - male -22 months - single - a short, wiry brown tabby with amber eyes

 

[smogstar]

Allies, sure. Friendship is a wholly different matter.

Smogmaw pads along on begrudging footfalls, trailing after Boarjaw and Wolverinefang. His archetypal expression of mixed dissatisfaction and fatigue is omnipresent on his features, with added traces of disgust thrown into the mix.

The taste of the hawk yet hangs in his breath. By all means did he appreciate having a full belly for once, but the feast carried little value in the long run of things. If anything, it was simply a means for Windclan to rub their lavish prey stockpile in his clanmates' faces. Nobody with a sound mind would ask for frogs in return for such a large creature - and yet Sootstar did just that.

Along with many of his fellow Shadowclanners, Smogmaw held his own skepticisms about their ally's leader. And seeing how this alliance is hardly kept afloat, it wouldn't surprise him if it were to crash and burn within the coming moons.

"Wasn't your lot just here?" asks the mackerel tabby as he makes the scene. He scans the faces of those present, recognising one or two from the feast. "Can't say I blame you for returning so soon," he continues, now grinning sardonically, "it sure is beautiful here in the swamp."

His gaze shifts to @Smallstorm, eyeing up the shorter tom with dubious resolve. "A prey swap sounds just peachy," Smogmaw drawls on, "how's about you bring us another hawk, and maybe we can score you a few more frogs?" ​

[ AND THE BASTARD WALKS BY ]​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Weaselclaw wrinkles his nose, as he always does, as they approach the ShadowClan border. The Thunderpath emits vile black fumes, and just beyond that, so do the ShadowClan warriors. He follows Moonshadow's cue to begin marking their territory, silent as she is until the swamp dwellers begin to call out to them.

The brown tabby snorts. Unfortunately, his immediate response is, "What, you lot can't catch your own prey?" Belatedly, he realizes he isn't meant to cause problems, and that his words may be a touch abrasive. He sighs and swipes a paw over his face. "Sootstar might appreciate the frogs, if no one else," he says, forcing a smile at an attempt to remedy his harshness. "We'll discuss it with her."

- ,,​

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