WILDFLOWER & BARLEY [ ★ ] DOG ON THE MOORS

[Bluepool]

"Oh come on!" the hiss can be heard from the lead warrior's jaws as she fixes her sights on a black and white figure bounding through the tall grass. It's jaws hang open in a dumb, lopsided smile, and it's tongue flops about as it runs. The twoleg, stupid meandering beast, wobbles along behind it in that strange upright fashion of walking that they do. Why on earth they had chosen to come out here and walk around in the hills she has no idea. "I hate that they don't care about scent markers or borders" she murmurs softy to the cat next to her, careful to keep her voice low enough that they do not compromise their position hidden in the tall grass. StarClan willing, the dog and the twoleg would keep their current course and they could stay undetected.

She turns to the rest of her patrol, scrappy black tail flicking back and forth behind her while she deliberates. "What do ya guys think? Should we stay here and wait for it to pass or try to sneak around it?" If they wanted to be safe, staying in their hiding spot might be the best option. But if they wanted to make it to horseplace and back before the sun fully set in the sky... A heavy sigh escapes past her lips as she thinks about dinner with her mate.

// Apprentice tag @FEATHERPAW

( ➸ ) test my worth in blood

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  BLUEPOOL WINDCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO SOOTSTAR & MINTSHADE
  

  A small framed moor runner with a blue toned pelt and black stripes. Her tail is cropped and her eyes are golden in color. On her chest, she sports a large 'X' shaped scar.

  ✦ Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + isn’t above using dirty tricks in order to win
  

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[SNOWGLARE]

જ➶ This mildly bothers him honestly. He doesn't want to be the cause of the patrol being spotted by the twoleg that has decided to go for a walk in the meadows. Nor have the dog spot his pale figure. So the large tom has pressed himself a bit more firmly to the ground. His tail brushes against the ground with slight irritation at both of the creatures being here unnanounced. Sure he has no issues with twolegs, afterall, he lived around them. Knows their way of thinking so to speak given his time occupying their space. Sighing softly his pink blemished irises shift toward Bluepool. Taking a breather before he finally decides to speak up. "I would say lay low and wait." But they do habs a job to do here and the day isn't going to wait for them. Shifting his paws a little he thinks through other options before the scarred tom tilts his head up a little. Gaze narrowed on the twoleg.

"If necessary, I can provide a distraction so that the rest of you can move on." Deep baritone voice sounds almost thoughtful as he runs through different thoughts in his head. Hmm. He can see that it might offer a chance and he is personally not afraid of twolegs or their lumbering dogs.​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — There were unique advantages and disadvantages when it came to being a tunneler as opposed to a moor runner. One of the notable advantages was being able to dip back down into the earth and hide when it was absolutely necessary - such as right now. A grin had actually graced Rattleheart's muzzle when he had noticed the scent of Bluepool and her patrol nearby, planning on popping up to say hello and greet his fellow lead warrior. He even entertained the notion of heading to the Horseplace with her group, if only to stretch his legs and say hello to some familiar faces. Unfortunately, a far more jarring and upsetting stench hit him before he could pull himself from the dirt. Dog. A soft hiss of frustration left him as he took a step back, nearly bumping into the accompanying form of Downypaw behind him.

Pressing himself flat near the entrance of the nearby tunnel, he twisted around so that he could peer at Downypaw in the faint light that was streaming down on them. "There's a twoleg... and a dog. We need to keep low." As he twisted back around, he eyed the moors ahead of them warily. "I can smell Bluepool and her patrol, too. We'll wait and see what they decide to do, and help out if we can, alright? And if anything goes wrong, I want you back down in here. Running to keep yourself safe." There was a surprising firmness in Rattleheart's voice as he spoke to Downypaw, absent of the usual rounded softness to his words. He couldn't help but keep his words grave and serious, fur along his spine raised as his mind forcibly yanked him back to the wolves that had plagued Thunderclan not all that long ago. A twoleg's pet dog was hardly capable of the same level of sheer destruction, but that didn't keep them from being dangerous.

// apprentice tag @downypaw !

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

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  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 50 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

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[FEATHERSPINE]

A dog. They were dangerous, slobbering, thoughtless things- Featherpaw had always been taught to avoid them. In the darkness, the waiting shapes she saw were sometimes tall and gleam-eyed, fangs curver, tongues limp. He was in no hurry to meet a beast like that in reality. At Bluepool's condemnation of Twolegs, their flippant disregard of WindClan's borders, a harsh grunt of agreement pushed out of Featherpaw's mouth.

Her silence did not last long, though- Snowglare offered himself as distraction, and Featherpaw immediately fixed the icy tom with an incredulous, immediately-annoyed glare. "Yes, it'll be so worth the ten second head start when we have to drag your b-b-body home," he hissed. That dog was fast, much faster than a cat- could Snowglare not plainly see that from where they were standing? His first suggestion had been much, much more sound... they were all competent, he should hope, enough to make up for the lost time. ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[dimmingsun]

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There is always something - and maybe, if you looked at it that way, it's good that you're unlikely to ever feel bored, but Dimmingsun likes the boring patrols every now and then. The joyful bound in the dog's steps only servers to frustrate him just like it frustrates Bluepool. He settles into a longer patch of grass, ears drawn back as he peers over the hill to see clearly. Sometimes he wishes the entire Clans could just round up on the Twolegs and their dogs to drive them out, but if experience has taught him anything, plans born out of petty revenge never went well.

"Yes, let's wait." He nods to Featherpaw, not wishing to see Snowglare's pristine white pelt stained with his own blood. "No need to take unnecessary risks. Maybe we could turn back and hunt in the meantime, so we're not wasting daylight?" The question is directed at Bluepool, emerald eyes searching hers for her opinion.

˗ˏˋ ᴀ ꜱɪɴɴᴇʀ, ᴀ ꜱᴀɪɴᴛ / ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ´ˎ˗ ᓚᘏᗢ 04.02.24

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• ✦ OOC @CELANDINEPAW app tag !

• DIMMINGSUN ⸝⸝-- WINDCLAN -- HE/HIM -- 33 MOONS

  ✦ Large golden-brown tom with green eyes.
  ✦ Penned by ˏ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙣 ´​
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[CELANDINEPAW]

"Dogs can be nice, too." Naivete hewed the young apprentice's spry tone, sunlit visage hiding amongst the greenery and the sawgrasses of Windclan's moors. She spoke of truth, though her truth had been molded by the hands of innocence and softness. Her truth, however, never stood up long against the more jagged and jaded ones of her peers. Even those her age had waned out of their kittish phase and regarded her as an overgrown child. "At the barn, I used to play with the dogs that accompanied the workfolk." Celandinepaw mewed, artlessness plain upon the way the golden molly spoke of what the wildcats considered the ultimate threat. Where they saw slavering jaws and saliva-coated tongue, she saw yet another loyal friend or potential playmate. Wheat-tinged eyes watched the dog and their Twoleg, traipsing through the plains without much care in the world, and even she could agree that this was not their place to romp about, for the thrifts and the peonies were not theirs to weave through. Don't they realize that they - I mean, we - live here? Her irises reflected the evening colors that tinged even the sky. She didn't want to be out before the sun set, as the night often unsettled her more than she would admit, but she made no further complaint of it.​