border UNAVOIDABLE BATTLE | watching the borders



The call to travel to unclaimed borders had come from someone amidst the clan and the patrol leader was happy to oblige, missing the little bits of authority she could get with such responsibilities. Even with Ferndance's days full of hunting and splendor, tragedy had buried within her home like a parasite, so numb to it all that it had mostly been business as usual for the cinnamon tabby. Loyalty to the clan came with a healthy dose of apathy, but even that could be tested. First alerted to something wrong by a scent on the borders not belonging to a ShadowClanner, the cinnamon tabby had led her unwilling minions along until they'd reached the very outskirts of marshlands, her paws a near-inky black from the mud she'd brazenly trodden through.

A brown shape moved across the distant lands, four-legged and broad-shouldered, with a belly as white as cream. Suspicion and recognition glinted in equal parts within the emerald eyes of the tabby glancing briefly to the patrol, Ferndance's gaze soon settled once more upon the loners' territories as she realised she was irritatingly partnered up with others. Every instinct told her to run ahead and see if her impression was correct, but ShadowClan's borders were a prison she had not earned the privilege to escape. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment and she lashed her tail; it wouldn't be long before others caught wind of someone sniffing too close to their lands too. "Do my eyes deceive me.... or is that a bird flying on the horizon...."

 
THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
The pace set by Willowburn was certainly slower than that of the others, and so much slower than the one set by Ferndance. Every effort was made to evade the worst of the mud as he was dragged along with the patrol that headed towards the border connected to unclaimed lands. The only thing that stopped him from turning back was a deep rooted sense of curiosity. He had always been enamoured by the unknown, so he partly hoped that they would get the chance to sneak outside of ShadowClan's territory in order to glimpse new grounds.

As he finally caught up with the patrol leader he found himself pricking up his ears as he heeded her words. "Hrm? What are you on about?" His focus shifted to the landscape beyond as he tried to search for whatever bird was flitting about. Though his sights picked out something else and it prompted him to tilt his head. "Well, that's certainly no bird."

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Willowburn was right, it was no bird, it had not been a bird since the day it was born, no matter what anyone else had called it. "They used to be... then they wanted to change, and so, they changed." It used to be as simple as that, to act upon whatever whim or desire fell upon someone - there was a shuffle to her paws as she realised how much she had changed, how many rules and regulations she had agreed to follow when a part of her heart still desired the freedom of the wilds. She knew the outsider would recognise her if they turned their head to the marshlands once more, but whatever she was the same cat they'd grown up with was a different story. Her blinks fluttered as she turned her sights towards Willowburn. "Oh... um... surprise, I know that rogue." Never as social as her mother and never as quick to deceive as her father, the rogues of the outside world were a mystery to the cinnamon tabby. "We could go say hi..." She suggested quietly - she wouldn't mind talking to her brother again after all this time.

 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Snowpaw had lagged behind a bit, yet when she approach and the mentions of meeting up with the rogue that stood a bit further down made her eyes narrow slightly. Even if Ferndance knew who they were could they even be trusted? "How do you know a rogue, and wouldn't be dangerous to meet with them" he asked calmly glancing over at Willowburn who had pointed out that what Ferndance had been looking at was anything but a bird, and yet here she was also wanting to greet the rogue? The tip of Snowpaw's tail twitched a bit before she settle herself into a dry spot, yellow eyes trained on the two warriors. "I'm staying here, a rogue is a rogue, not to be trusted" he stated coolly.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 8 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 


Umbral-streaked forelegs planted in the dewed soil, claw tips idly shear loose clumps and flick them away. The deputy loiters in this border-bound patrol's company, blandly, among the extraordinary assembly of Ferndance, Willowburn, Snowpaw, and whoever else the former lead had brought along to show off. From the peripheral, the tawny she-cat surveys the wider world beyond, and even engages in a healthy dose of bird-watching by the sounds of it. His initial reaction is indifference, paying nonexistent heed to the words spilt from her maw. When Willowburn opens his, and discredits Ferndance's ability to identify an animal species correctly, the interest spikes abruptly.

A compulsion emerges in his throat like bile. To raise his voice, call the rogue over, summon them to the border, all on the basis that they were a known individual to his clanmate. He swallows it down. Discreet observation is supposed to be ShadowClan's modus operandi, keeping their eye on the outside from the sheltered shadows, inserting themselves only when it is necessary, unavoidable, or advantageous. Lately, though, it has also been the ShadowClan way to pluck whichever rogue or loner catches their eye, and drag them back to camp with a swish in their tail. So, he isn't so sure where he stands on the matter.

"How do you know 'em?" he posits, mimicking Snowpaw's inquery in an equally demure tongue. Curiosity thrives in his tone, not the need to interrogate. His vision turns solely onto Ferndance then, giving her a cursory mulling-over. "If they come near," he says, half-addressing her soft-spoken suggestion, "I'll prepare for a conversation, s'well as a claw for their neck."

 

Border patrols are exciting enough when you want anything but the possibility of a trespasser. Mirepurr pads after Ferndance without slowing, but dread sits like heavy weight within their belly as they get closer to the edge of ShadowClan territory - each step taken brings them closer to confrontation, because there's always something to confront nowadays. Self-proclaimed keeper of peace often clashes with the instinctual desire to protect what is theirs.

Ferndance speaks of a bird even when she looks down instead of up. It only takes a moment for Mirepurr to catch up, to see the flightless and featherless bird padding along on four legs, close enough to raise some hackles.

The soft undergrowth shifts under Mirepurr as they crouch, whiskers twitching. Smogmaw asks what they don't want to ask but wonder nevertheless.

"I doubt they'd venture close like this." Their tail flicks from one side to another before laying still; a motion to point towards the entirety of the patrol, packed with not only numbers but authority, both past and present. And if they do, they merely think as to not turn that glimmer within Ferndance's gaze into anger, they're surely mouse-brained.
 
THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
"Friend or foe, that is the ultimate question." To say the very least but Willowburn was intrigued about Ferndance's supposed acquaintance. There was the flavour of mystery and the promise of answers from one of the clan's more unusual warriors. Finally life was looking a little less boring. "You know, if that offer of going over and saying hello is still available then I'd be open to humouring it." He would use the excuse that they would be better taking a closer look than letting some rogue wander too closely to their border without attention.
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