border WE'RE GOING ON A (fox hunt)

[Orangestar]

She knows better this time. Approaching the border at dusk had been their undoing, and so Orangestar takes steps to avoid the fate of death a second time. Her patrol is different; the warriors with her hadn't been a problem the last time, but fresh claws poised in ready would never go astray. They take to the trees when the sun is high rather than close to its daily retreat, claws digging into rough bark and the familiar sway of pine boughs beneath them.

Despite the tense atmosphere that emanates from Orangestar herself, it's a pleasant day. The clouds above them are fleeting, barely disguising the brilliant blue of the sky, and they're sheltered enough by the pines that the greenleaf sun isn't so cruel. The rustle of prey is promising, and ...

A russet shape weaves between sparse undergrowth. Orangestar stops abruptly, the branch beneath her creaking as her momentum drops off. It's clear what she's looking at: a lone fox, pointy muzzle marred by cat's-claw scratches, unhealed by herbs or cobwebs. She doesn't remember much of that night, dusk fractured by the muddling rain and lightning, but she has a vague memory of one fox being bloodied by a swipe when it left ...

"Drop down on it. We might be able to catch it off guard." As she speaks, barely a breath on the breeze, the leader gestures with ears and tail to convey her plan. "Ready in three, two, one ... now!"

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• While Orangestar's patrol is predetermined, this is an open thread! Feel free to jump in as part of a different patrol after at least two of the tagged participants have posted! This takes place at the loner lands border, nearby the ThunderClan end.
  @Howlfire @DUSKPOOL @Owlheart @edenberry ?! @CHRYSALISWING (+ apprentices, if their mentor would allow them)
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & fangs
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

Trailing after the honeyed drops of orange against cotton clouds, they wonder if this is how the birds feel... Fluttering through the tall pines in their green-prickled branches, talons tapping where they land for a beat or two before flying off again. Chasing the clouds... the breeze comforting beneath their wings.

Careful not to grow distracted by daydreaming, the daylight warrior flicks one of their ears in silent recall- Pay attention, with Orangestar here especially... and the only representative of their kind, Edenberry is stubbornly insistent on making a good impression. Few could credit them for any great skill in combat but they were plenty competent with climbing... had held their own well enough to graduate. There is the reassurance of Owlheart's presence, though they are sure that she's more fixated on the task of keeping her mom safe than anything.

The pin-straight raise of a tail followed by swiveling ears and a fixated attention says they've arrived... they've found their target. Emerald eyes squint towards the ground, wobbling slightly as the earth shifts in and out of focus below. A bobbed-tail shakes nervously, a bid for catching their balance as they hunker down to watch... to listen. "I see it..."

"Drop down on it."

Vibrant gaze flicks towards their leader, offering her an affirmative nod, bunching their muscles in preparation as the countdown begins. Three... Their ears fold back, preparing for the feel of wind ripping through them as they crash down from the canopy. Two... Their claws unsheathe, digging into the thin bark of the tree. One... They wiggle for the leap, calibrating their aim and judging the distance down, how they might need to spin their body to better land.

Now!

The hesitation only sits in their belly for a heart-beat and they can see the fur of clan-mates diving down below- unwilling to forsake them, they lunge down too, plummeting with paws outstretched the way they'd been trained to do a hundred times. Auburn fur gets closer and closer, faster than they expect- practice feels nothing like the real thing. They land with a shaking sensation vibrating up their legs, claws dug into thick fur along its back in the bare minimums of success.

The rush of knowing they'd done it right is almost blinding- almost. A snapping mouth whirls to grab at them and they swat at its open muzzle with a hiss, preparing to jump away as soon as someone else could snag its attention long enough for it to be safe. "Surprise dung-for-brains!"

---

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 i can still hear you sing

• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 13 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back / filling out where previously skinny
  -- color #728c69​

​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

The shadow of a russet flame caught Chrysaliswing's heterochromatic gaze, like the umbrage had puked out flame and folly, something utterly repugnant to the tomcat. Gaze narrowed as he zeroed in on the white-tailed canine, of which had not detected the Skyclan cats in the trees just yet. Flame-brushed hue weaving through the woodlands, he did not know if it searched for something or simply wandered about. Regardless, Chrys could not stop the distaste from working upon his twisted countenance, as though bile rose farther than his throat and settled upon his face. The longhaired warrior rustled through the gloom-dipped boughs, like a ghost casting no foot nor tendril in its wake, as silent as a settling pall. The pine-dweller's pride was that of stealth above the ground. Silent footfall twined along the tangled branches, careful not to make too much noise. Scars lined the fox's reddish pelt, as though an evening sky beclouded by streaks of flesh-cloud, exposing the predator beyond its notably-scarlet coat. Wounds burned fresh, though draped by the shades around it. Good. It's vulnerable. Claws curled along his perch upon the trees.

Three, two, one... Now!

At Orangestar's cue, the chimaeric tomcat leapt from the trees, claws outstretched to blot out the meager blue of the empyrean. A screech of triumph erupted from a brimstone maw, as the thrill of the hunt blazed through the half-toned warrior. They would not be the prey, not this time. He had positioned himself for the hindmost section of the flank, with needles attempting to pierce through the saccharine layer behind rough fur, anything to make this pathetic excuse for a predator suffer. Gravity dragged him downwards, along with his raking talons - and though his maneuvers were sweeping at best and imprecise at worst, he hoped to at least draw sanguine from its wells. He then clamped at the anklebone of the canine, tough tendons an emersion from mange-ridden skin. Edenberry had already distracted the brute, and now he would assume the role of the fool, almost like a baton passing of stageplay characters. It was only fair upon the dance of war, where the tides could change as quickly as a wingbeat.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC:
  
• 
• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Rough bark pressed against his hide, digging uneven divots into pliable flesh, breath fluttering past parted jaws, Duskpool laid in wait, wooly plume twitching. Unlike the others, the older warrior remained stationary, calloused paws pressed firmly into the ground — not even a ghost of a breath escaping a swiveling ear, waiting for Orangestar’s call to attack. It’d been simple enough, just a matter of executin’ it without the loss of life or spilled ichor.

Unfortunately, it never went the way one hoped.

He surged forward at Edenberry’s appearance, followed by Chrysaliswing bite to its ankle, sneer plastered against a scarred muzzle. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He rasped, low, guttural rumbles emitting from the back of his throat, black pupils constricting at the firey dawn-kissed pelt tipped with inky pitch and powder.

Mind like rolling thunder, yet bubbling calm like the dead sea, Duskpool snapped at the beast, teeth finding homage, tasting rotten ichor on his tongue. He’d grown used to the taste — insensitive to its foulness, repetitive like clockwork. Its jaws snapped, reaching to tug at a muscular shoulder only to grasp air, peeling himself away to land a hefty swipe to its forelimb, Duskpool maneuvered himself away in seconds to slam into it full force. A ripple beneath obsidian fur, muscle straining against the force to stun it, and if successful, should allow a clanmate to sweep in while it was distracted. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Sorrelsong]

Tired. Frightened. Determined. She would be a warrior today.
Though she hadn't been Orangestar's first choice, the molly volentered to face the beasts. Her claws felt weak in her paws, her teeth felt like they might fall out, her pelt a bit to tight before Duskpool's name was called. Her brother. If not for her clan, if not for her, she could do it for him.
The ground felt far away as Orangestar calls to wait. Grass against chest, she wasn't sure she could press herself further into the dirt. Her plan? Not be a coward. Slice it open. Easy as that if not for her lack of fighting experience. That was where Duskpool resided. Bravery and guts. That was all him. She would follow his lead.
Springing after Duskpool, the huntress fumbles. She trips. Landing hard on a branch, the molly is left with little choice but to retreat up a near by tree. Her ankle hisses and sputters under the weight. The forest blurs. This was stupid. What was she doing. She couldn't fight! She could watch - be a stand in until Fireflypaw got here, but she was useless besides a warning call. This is why Orangestar didn't pick her.
Chest heaving, Chrysiliswing finds something good. A call goes up, one not cat in nature. Bark juts into her flank as she spins to look. Nothing. She couldn't see anything but bloobs. The whole world seems wet again. Covered in something she can't touch or fix. Her brother's scent. Duskpool. She should be more like him. But she wasn't. She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a warrior. Her name was a farce. A lie shared with everyone. A lie everyone knew but her. She wasn't a warrior. Sorrel. It was a plant, a useless green stalk that meant nothing. Just food for prey. That is what she was, food for the foxes. Maybe a distraction, just one more lethal and permanent then the one Edenberry supplied. But did that mean she could save her clan if she did so? Did it mean she could save Duskpool.
Another cry. Her pelt jolted. Her brother. His scent. She couldn't protect him. Any confidence left her body. She slips further down the tree, claws weak -were they still attached? Her ankle screamed. She could smell blood. On instinct, the molly reposistioned herself on the tree, easily manuvering the dance of gravity and bark. Squirrelpelt she was afraid they'd called her. Maybe they should. Maybe this isn't a fight. Maybe this is a hunting patrol.
At the thought, the bark stiffened. The veil lessened. She could see them. The fox. Her clan mates. The birds calling, fleeing. She could see all of them.
Her brother. Maybe it was because of the time spent looking for him, but she could pick his coat out the easilest. Ankles. They were going for the ankles.
So what? It couldn't move? It couldn't climb? Foxes didn't need that, they just needed their sharp teeth. And they couldn't exactly... kill it like a mouse. It's fur is to thick. The world blurred slightly again. Stop thinking. Do!
Heart thudding, slamming against it's boney restraints Sorrelsong lets out a cry not unlike a cry for help as she launches herself across the ground, through the beats's legs and slams her good paw on the creature's belly, attempting to unprofessionally slash at the animal's inners as she brings her paw down.
With her claws, she was a writer. And she would finish this story.

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  — A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
  
  
  
  — 44 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  
  
  
  — aro/ace. ; currently not looking
  
  
  
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
  
  
  
  — Mentoring Flora
  
  
  
  — Sky Clan; warrior since 3/11/24 ; loyal to Orangestar, Flora, and Duskpool
  
  
  
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  
  
  
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  
  
  
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[Howlfire]

Howlfire was well aware of what had happened the last time one of these patrols lead by Orangestar had encountered foxes. Of course, Howlfire was not expecting something similar to happen today, but she still kept a watchful eye.

Howlfire finds her place in the branches with ease, climbing up the tree at Orangestar's signal, and then perching comfortably on a branch as they awaited their target. Despite the uneasiness that fills the air, the day had proven to be quite pleasant, and Howlfire hopes that is a sign of things to come. The sound of rustling draws her eye to near to where the fox appears but it is Edeberry's comment that truly gets her looking. Drop down on it. We might be able to catch it off guard, she hears Orangestar whisper, gesturing with her ears and tail about the plan she was formulating. Howlfire nodded silently, knowing what was to be done.

Ready in three, two, one ... now!

Like the rest of her clanmates, Howlfire lunges down, claws outstretched in the same manner as she has done so time and time again. She can hear her clanmates fighting with the vulpine enemy now, clawing. biting and hissing and their shared enemy. She does not hesitate to throw herself forward, aiming to rake her claws down any exposed part of its body whilst it was potentially distracted by any of her clanmates.​

 

[Orangestar]

Like a flock of descending birds, SkyClanners dive from the trees. They all land upon the startled fox in a clashing, snarling pile, bouncing off auburn fur in waves to better allow their Clanmates to connect. Orangestar lands nearly at the same time as Edenberry and Duskpool, knocking it off balance one after the other with an unmistakeable creak of bone, directly into Chrysaliswing's outstretched talons. Sorrelsong appears - where in StarClan's name had she come from? - to rake her claws along its belly.

The fox itself, bleeding profusely and with yips turning to feral wails with each claw that meets it, turns to snap at @Howlfire - but provides the tortoiseshell molly a golden opportunity as it does, baring its throat to her for a heartbeat. Its eye seems to widen with a sickened realisation. Would she seize the moment and finish the fight?

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• // please wait for howl<3
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & fangs
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Howlfire]

Howlfire had not expected such an opportune moment so soon. Her clanmates' relentless attacks have left the fox bleeding and vulnerable. Perhaps because she was close to it at that moment, the fox turns to her, intending to snap at her face.

The moment is brief, fleeting even, but for a moment the fox bares its throat to her. Like the fox, Howlfire is quick to acknowledge its mistake, recognising a golden opportunity when she spots one. Before it can back away or try and snap at one of the other warriors, she lunges forward, lips curled back to expose pearly fangs. Howlfire dropped down slightly, angling her head carefully so the fox could not bite her, before sinking her teeth into its throat. She fears to fox try to pull away but Howlfire's grip remains solid, and relentless, refusing to let go despite the fox's attempts to free itself. When the fox ceases to scramble and gradually goes limp under Howlfire's grasp, she finally lets it go, letting it fall limply to the floor. Dead. "It is done," She mewed softly.​