where feet may fail | thunder patrol

[Flycatcher]

Flycatcher has never been particularly fond of ShadowClan since the prey-stealing issue a few moons back. Whilst he had never been overly fond of them before then, his opinion had only soured afterwards. Leading patrols along their border was always something of a mixed bag Flycatcher found. He never knew if he was going to come across any ShadowClan cats that would pointlessly goad them from across the thunderpath, or whether he'd come across a more polite patrol.

As he led his patrol along the border today Flycatcher was being extra cautious. Not for ShadowClan cats, but the boars that plagued their territory and the bears that plagued their own. "Looks quiet today," Flycatcher mused as they approached the thunderpath. The stench of monsters was still quite strong but otherwise, it seemed quiet. "Let's get the borders marked and continue on to WindClan."

@Tybalt [Stagstrike] @WHITELION @BURNPAW ! @Shinebug ​

 

[Shinebug]

Of all the groups that weren’t Thunderclan (the best one), Shadowclan was
doubtlessly the one that gave the empty-headed child the biggest case of the heebie-jeebies. Could you blame the cat? Just the name: Shadowclan. It sounded like a pack of demons that would strike from the safety of darkness, picking off their puny patrol one by one. Just that thought alone was enough to make flame-tinted fur stand on end.

As Shinepaw walked, sky-blue eyes frantically flitted from side to side, sticking much closer to his mentor than usual. Every few steps the shaft of sunlight would attempt to taste the air, only to retch at the acrid odor of the thunderpath. His first time out of camp, the cat was struck with wonder at the realization that the world was so much bigger than he could’ve imagined. Right now, though, he was overwhelmed by confronting the fact that some smells were so much worse than whatever he could dream up.

Sky-blue eyes shifted to Flycatcher as his mentor spoke, muscles relaxing ever so slightly at the reassurance. “Don’t jinx it…” he muttered, glaring across the black glass before him. Still, the suggestion to move on to Windclan wasn’t the most welcome either. “Who’s worse?” Shinepaw began, hoping to pass the time with talk. “Windclan is run by that crazy lady, but Shadowclan has the scarier name.” ​

 

[BURNSTORM]

The feelings that Burnpaw held for ShadowClan was a rather mixed bag. The marshes is where his family came from, according to his mother. They had once all lived there together, under Briar's rule. But in the aftermath of the battle they had decided that the oak forest would be safer, better for their futures and to be honest, he is glad they had decided to come here. He cannot imagine living in such a wet, miserable looking, place, under the wet rag they called Chilledstar, no less. He always saw the monochrome leader at gatherings and always they seemed to be in a sour mood. What kind of a leader were they in private? He can't help but wonder.

Despite all of the things he doesn't like about ShadowClan though, he also thinks that no clan deserves to starve slowly to death. Especially not... No. He shakes thoughts of Tornadopaw from his mind. He was eleven moons now. His warrior ceremony was drawing near and he could not afford any slip-ups. If he graduated late he knows his uncle would never let him hear the end of it. He can hear it now, the taunts about kittypets and about how he would never amount to anything so long as his fathers blood ran through his veins. It makes his claws curl into the soft earth.

He is interrupted from his thoughts by the voice of his fellow apprentice. The question elicits a snort from his nose. "That's an easy one. WindClan is way worse." he says but he offers no explanation as to why that would be. His reasonings are his own.
​

 

[WHITELION]

make peace with your broken pieces .​

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

Whitelion hummed in affirmation, moving forward, only to pause, catching the end of Shinepaw and Burnpaw’s conversation whiskers twitching in humor. Who was the worst? Whitelion humored the thought, staring out towards Shadow’s border with a twitch of his whiskers, crooning. Whitelion grew to believe that neither clans were evil, only the felines that attached themselves to the name, but that was his own opinion, one many would not share. If one continues to breed vileness, then that is only the parent’s fault, or rather, the leader’s sometimes.

The white-furred warrior glanced at his apprentice, tail swishing, giving Chickadeepaw a knowing look. “Try not to cause too much trouble.” Head pivoted to stare at the two apprentices. “Perhaps it is wise to keep your thoughts to yourself until after we’ve patrolled.” He mused, but would not stop them, actions will always have consequences.

@Chickadeepaw! ​

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thought speech​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — "I would assume it's not the Clan allowed under your forest." Sabletuft's gravelly voice came from not too far away, just a few paces outside of the tunnel that opened into their territory. His sights looked up at the canopy of thick branches and large, flat green leaves. Not enough shade, he thought, to keep up with his home's penumbra.

Sabletuft looked back down to the patrol, twitching his tail neatly over his paws. A show he did not intend to be a threat, or antagonize either, surprisingly. He was dumb enough to goad Sootstar at the gathering, but not stupid enough to bite the paw feeding his Clan.

"I have to agree, WindClan is full of snakes and deceivers. Too bad my teeth couldn't take another rotten life from their Queen." Better to behead the beast, after all. They could lose warriors, either from death or their neighboring Clans, but that wretch in their ranks would keep its heart alive. — tags​

 

[brackenlight]

It's hardly a question in Brackenlight's mind which of the two clans is worse, and quite honestly it shouldn't have been one to this apprentice, either, given his own reasoning. But she shouldn't expect much intelligence from someone so young — especially a ThunderClanner. Honestly, the way some youths talk about her home... but that shouldn't surprise her, either. It's not like her opinion of any of their neighbors is too high.

She stands by Sabletuft, feeling safe for obvious reasons despite her proximity to the patrol but acutely aware of how shameful it feels to be speaking from this horrible tunnel rather than her own territory. Brackenlight feels like a rodent peering from its den. Still, the cinnamon-furred warrior maintains a light expression, smiling as she nods in agreement with her clanmate's words. "Not to mention they lose warriors left and right to the other clans," she tacks on. "Good on them for getting out of there." She can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to live under that molly, brutish as she is.​