- Jun 7, 2023
- 266
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Just before the call for patrols, a Tunneler and Tunneler apprentice had been missing from camp. It wasn't unusual for the former to disappear, but the latter, someone who was in limbo between mentors, likely did not have the same reputation for long journeys away from civilisation. Both were back on WindClan territory midday, but a creature who had left the moors so angry had returned so vindicated that he made no attempts to sneak back to society. Sootspot stepped into camp with triumph in his eyes and two frogs dangling from his maw. For feeding their young, for giving WindClan a second chance, for doing things even the council had failed at, for trying to give them hope that someone in the clan could make the right choices - all he asked for in return was their adoration. Would it be too much?
With a swish of his tail, he urged Downypaw to his side, knowing his former apprentice would also likely have her paws full of prey. It was Sootspot who deserved the fanfare, he had orchestrated the patrol and gotten them away without the marshes even knowing they'd been disturbed, but, he knew he owed it to the clan to show them how well he had trained the seal point to hunt.. and the disservice they had done by giving her to Rattleheart. Sootspot walked forward slowly, deliberately, his neck craned so high he looked more tree than felidae. As if it were a great effort, Sootspot dropped his catches onto WindClan's withering freshkill pile, and, once more, stood proud. "Well done, Downypaw," he mewed as he presumed the other would do the same, his tail batting at the breeze. "I am glad all those... injuries, did not affect your skill. You shall be a grand Tunneler yet." If the scent of the frogs didn't give away their origins, then the fact that were not WindClan prey would.
Two cats wandering alone in enemy territory was bound to raise ire, doubly so when other patrols had been caught (some even killed), but Sootspot was quick to speak before disappointment could even begin to cross WindClan's faces. "More frogs remain in the tunnels, waiting to be collected," he told the first cat to move closer, loud enough so that anyone else could hear him. "We were not seen, I doubt ShadowClan will even know they are gone, as bountiful as they claim their lands to be." There were certain eyes he hopes to find within the camp, the eyes of those who had been so quick to hunt on unscorched earth that they did not consider who might have been watching them. At the very least, he knew Bluepool would be watching from whatever twisted afterlife she found herself in, wishing it had been him leading a patrol instead of her - perhaps then, she would still be alive. "Downypaw, I speak the truth, do I not?" That they were not seen, that their paws were bloodless. If they could not believe him, then he knew they would believe the apprentice.
@downypaw
@SOOTSPOT You are so much better than all of them, aren't you? You watch impulsive decisions being made; you watch mistakes with their consequences, mistakes that wouldn't have happened if you got to make all the calls. It's frustratingly unfair... but it gives you an edge, a point of inspiration, and you gathering a makeshift patrol goes unnoticed in all the chaos. You make the calls then. Perhaps you could boast about bringing back a bunch of prey without the need to shed another Clan's blood, hm?