YOU CAN RUN TO THOSE ANGELS. | shadowclan patrol

[GECKOSCREECH]

⊵ with an alliance now freshly severed geckoscreech can't say she was feeling peachy keen upon learning she was put in charge of leading one of the patrols down to the border that they shared with those haughty, fluff-brained moor-runners. before she did not have a positive or negative feeling towards them, pitchstar agreeing to have a pact with windclan was questionable but during that time shadowclan was already down on its luck so it didn't hurt to have helping paws keep them from drowning in complete despair but with recent events such as their war against riverclan and the lightning strike at the gathering it felt too dangerous to even consider having them as an ally right now. hell, shadowclan hardly knew what they were going through since no one informed them.

her patrol eventually arrived at their destination, the acrid stentch of the thunderpath as strong as ever but for once a part of her is glad it divides the marsh from the rest. "Be sure you all are thorough with marking and try not to cause any trouble." her gaze flickers back to her clanmates before parting from their sides to scent the bark of a nearby tree.

|| THIS IS SO LATE I APOLOGIZE!
|| @GHOSTPAW, @FERNDANCE, @Wolfpaw, @Rainecho, @Ravenwatcher., @BRINDLEPAW, @Swiftclaws, @Magpiepaw, @betonyfrost
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【 THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.】

 

[FERNDANCE]

Having to go to WindClan's borders after everything that had happened would be difficult. Her opinion of the group had been forever soured, not by the lightning strike at the gathering or the constant bickering with the other groups, but because they'd lied about liking her funky little home. There'd been no attempts to repair what had been lost, there had only been insults, and at that point, Ferndance realised that they were better off without the little rabbit-chasers weighing them down. She assessed the Thunderpath from this different angle, the view on the other side far less familiar than that of ThunderClan's forest. Ferndance wondered what lied behind the bumpy moors, was it the camp of their newest enemy, or a simple field of bones where the once great WindClan had stood? Her wedge-shaped head slowly turned as Geckoscreech spoke, her eyes blinking wider and wider until they threatened to pop out of her skull. 'Try not to cause any trouble' was a phrase best applied to any other patrol. Between Betony's temper, Rainecho's teasing, Ravenwatcher's bluntness, and Swiftclaw's energy, it would be a miracle from StarClan itself if someone didn't earn WindClan's ire today "I am always on my best behaviour," she reassured her fellow lead warrior.

Her gaze flickered down towards her apprentice - now did not feel like the time for lessons, but with one lie already spoken, it was time to neutralise it with some truths. "WindClan doesn't like nests. They sleep out in the open, and they claim it's to watch the stars but in my opinion, they are scared of getting struck by lightning if they live near the trees. I don't blame them for that anymore. They like to eat big old bunnies, have you ever seen a rabbit before? Their ears are properly taller than you." She smiled as she spoke, marking a clump of grasses by the edge of the Thunderpath. There were no oscillations in the gravel to warn of oncoming monsters, it was almost a shame. ThunderClan had denied her the chance of seeing what a squashed cat looked like, now it seemed WindClan would too. Ears angling in disappointment, the ticked tabby took a step back, a haughty frown pressed against the corners of her muzzle as she shook her head. "I wonder if a WindClanner is faster than a monster..." she pondered out loud, her tail idly twitching in thought.

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[SCORCHSTAR]

They tend to avoid the blacktop that separates ShadowClan and WindClan’s territories. The metallic monsters that roam the path are frightening, and they would have to be stupid to willingly step any closer to the thunderpath than they have to. They recall the fate of Briarstar—they have no wish to meet the same end as the first leader of the marshland territory. Today, though, they spot shapes on the other side of the path, and immediately recognize them. ShadowClan cats, likely a patrol; golden eyes squint to get a better look.

One of the ShadowClanners speaks, ponders whether a WindClan cat is faster than a monster. Scorchstreak themself is unsure—perhaps a particularly quick moor runner would stand a chance, but Scorchstreak certainly can’t, especially with their injured leg. They are made more for digging than running, anyway, tucked away in the tunnels and out of the sunlight. "Of course we couldn’t outrun a monster. I don’t think anyone could," they say, hoping that their voice carries well enough that the other clan cats can hear their words.
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[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]​

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[betonyfrost]

The order to not cause any trouble feels pointed towards Betonyfrost, despite her current being just as likely to cause trouble for the sake of it. Betonyfrost knows restraint, had lived her first seasons with her tongue held between her teeth, and can shoulder a short while playing nice for the sake of avoiding a fight. Ferndance goes on listing the qualities of a WindClanner, a noise that Betonyfrost allowed to drop into the background of whirring bugs and birdsong as she marks her own spot on the border.

She startles only when she hears a new voice, the fur along her spine risen momentarily until she spots the source of the voice — a WindClanner responding to something Ferndance was on about.

You think this one could outrun a monster? They probably couldn't keep pace with a rabbit, Betonyfrost doesn't say, because she isn't causing trouble. The words feel like a physical thing in Betonyfrost's mouth, and she's grown so unused to keeping her thoughts held back.

"For the sake of all of our sanities, let's not try and come up with anything that can outrun a monster," Betonyfrost says, "Only certain birds could anyway, and only if they were flying." Which would hardly be considered outrunning a monster.​

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 18 moons | tags​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw's eyes linger over that of the hardened blacktop of the thunderpath. She feels like she's heard of it, maybe in little nursery tales or otherwise, but seeing it for herself is a different experience entirely. Part of her nearly forgets that ShadowClan is just over the edge - a fact that is not sorely forgotten for long. Just as she turns to address her mentor, she hears chittering from the other side. Tall grey ears twitch as she looks at the cats gathered, doing much of the same thing they're doing, and she clocks them best she can. ShadowClanners. Not as mighty as the ThunderClan cats appeared, and certainly worth some ire given the recent failure in the alliance.

Again, she looks to Icebreath for guidance. Her tail twitches when she hears Scorchstreak speak next - something about outrunning a monster? Her gaze flicks back to the ShadowClan patrol, wondering if any sort of friendly banter can be passed between them, like Tigerfrost and those ThunderClanners, before deciding against it. Instead, she pipes up a question, "What's a monster look like?" Surely they must be feats of their own, considering a WindClan cat can't even outrun them!

[ obligatory mentor tag @icebreath ! <3 ]​

 

[Ravenwatcher.]

So I walk alone down the darkest roads​

---

Ravenwatcher didn't have any disappointment about going on the windclan patrol, in fact, she was kind of glad to be put on the patrol, with Ferndance normally jesting self and her pranks, as well as menacing thoughts, always kept things interesting, of course, the others could make things more...spicy depending on who else came to fro. Her eyes looked down at the Windclanners with a hum, one answering the other lead warrior's question which made her snort "mayhaps one of you should try" Ravenwatcher said smoothly as her ears twitched and perked towards the others watching as more of the rabbit chasers came from what ever tunnel they crawled out of, glad they weren't allying themselves with those who think they're better than others...entitled is what they were.

"Anyways, Brindlepaw what do you see and hear? Since you already know about the thunderpath and Windclan, I'd like to know what you can pick up" she stated smoothly towards her apprentice, dark blue eyes flashing towards them while their tail swished in calm motions knowing her words would cause one or two Windclanners who were quick to allow themselves to anger be offended by her suggestion of basically trying not to be squashed like a bug by a monster...perhaps she needed to stop hanging around Ferndance too much and she let a soft sigh escape her maw.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[Magpiepaw]

Awkward and unsteady paws kept him trailing carefully along behind Swiftclaws and the rest of the patrol, paying no real mind to any of them for their voices were grating and high and he was busy giving the thunderpath a tentative sniff as if to detect signs of those who had failed to cross it. Bold, boisterous fools, what a silly daring feat. If they wanted to die there were much cleaner and more inspiring ways to do so than galavant into a monster's path. The patrol is joking about WindClanners being fast, outrunning the beasts and he wrinkles his nose. Foolish. The dark fire marked WindClanner says as much but another smaller one speaks up in tow.

He hears Cottonpaw's question and eyes the speckle faced apprentice of the moorland, blue-violet eyes lit up with delight at being able to answer, the sharing of knowledge was important and he enjoyed being able to speak of things he was knowledgable in.
"Great beasts of the Thunderpath, they roam along its course undiverted spitting gravel and stone and crushing all beneath their spinning spherical paws. Our leader Briarstar was battered into pulp long before I was born." If he felt any way about his macabre description he did not show it and continued on, head bobbing in a jittering nod, "None can outrun them, behemoths of black smoke who rumble and growl in rattling shining carapaces of many colors. If a leader of nine lives can not defeat them I would not risk my single soul in an attempt."
He hums to himself, pleased with his carefully constructed information before blinking both big eyes slowly in the WindClan molly's direction; ashen and dark limbs that she was. "I'm Magpiepaw." The introduction probably should have came before his spiel but he had been excited.
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[BRINDLEPAW]

(=🝦 ﻌ 🝦=) — Once again Brindlepaw finds himself eager to be on a patrol to WindClan. The moor clan cats were like celebrities to him… and not in an admirable way! With all the trouble and mayhem they caused it was difficult not to find them amusing!

He finds himself smirking at the WindClanner’s as they talk about running faster and slower than the monsters before Ravenwatcher instructs him. He nods and tastes the air, ”Well, it’s hard to smell much with the stink of the thunder path and uh- them. But I think… I smell stale rabbit. One might’ve been lurking on their side during the night.” He looks to her for an approving nod, wondering if he’d need any corrections.— tags​

 

[✧ Venomthroat.]

I REALLY COULDN'T CARE LESS

venomthroat | 26 months | non-binary | they/them | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold black

---

Being on patrol is always so... bothersome. Of course, venomthroat knows that unless they wish to spend their days under the insufferable attentions of twolegs, there is no way to live a life completely without responsibility, but they will certainly try. Their goal is simply to get this done and over with as quickly as possible - as efficiently as possible. But many of their fellow windclanners are prone to outbursts of emotion, and they be surprised to find something like that happen today. How annoying.

Keeping an eye on cottonpaw - a rather tolerable child, to their surprise, and one their big brother seems moderately fond of - they diligently mark the borders - not even bothering to make idle conversation with their own clanmates. Dark eyes blink lazily as they trail over the group, finally landing on magpiepaw as the child begins to describe the thunderpath beasts to cottonpaw. A surprised laugh slips from their lungs - low and rumbling, eyes narrowed in a surprising fondness. "I like this one, wish all apprentices were that funny," they joke rather morbidly - though then again, if the children were no longer scared of them then they'd be bothered by them even more. Tch.

"He's not wrong though - if you get attacked by a monster you rarely survive,"
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[SHAGGYDOG]

————————————————⊰⋅ ✿ ⋅⊱————————————————​

"'s funny what you're calling it?" Shaggydog mutters under its breath as it hears the conversation carrying from a distance not too far away. Its eyes only linger on Venomthroat for a second before moving towards the less familiar cats all around. While it would much rather turn around and head in another direction, with so many ShadowClanners at the border, it would probably be for the best to stick around in case of anything happening. As unlikely as it believes it to be, such a thing would never be impossible. It takes a couple steps towards the mass of felines in front of it, not coming too close. It doesn't want to get the stink of the marsh cats on its pelt, even if it has resigned itself to sticking around. Only a single one even comes close to being respectable, and even then, it wouldn't count on that opinion sticking around for very long. Surely they'll do something to screw it up the next time they speak. ​

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[GHOSTPAW]

He doesn't know how to feel about WindClan. Things are weird now. They always were weird, but a different sorta weird. It was normal weird, now, but he'd gotten so used to the other weird already... Ghostpaw blinks at the Windclanners. They smell like nothing and everything and some of them are so so tiny... Tinier than he had been, and he was a little kit, but now hes an okay one. Okay-sized. "I never cause trouble. Never." He assured Geckoscreech, and he hopes its true. She hasn't scolded him yet, he doesn't think. He'd know, wouldn't he? He'd hate to be scolded.

Magpiekit–paw, isn't scolded neither. He's funny, the WindClan cats call him funny. He can see him from the corner of his eye, so-sort of. Barely, Seeing is hard and he is so, so, shadow. So much shadow. But he can see his eyes and his painted chest. Blank-faced, Ghostpaw turns back to the Windclanners, but his face does not betray the churning in his chest. He wants to be funny, too. "The... The behemoths..." It sounds funny. He's never said that word before. "Um..." What was funny about it? Was it dead things? "P-pitchstar died near the... the Thunderpath too, you know...? ...But it wasn't a monster," he tells them, glancing away. Was that funny?​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — Icebreath shares Scorchstreak's reservations; the thunderpath is a dangerous and unpredictable place, home to such terrifying beasts. Though she knows they can be trusted never to leave their ink-hued boundary, as its never been witnessed as far as she's aware, she still can't help but worry. Not to mention the newfound tension with ShadowClan making this border even more undesirable to the lynx point, but at least the perilous nature of this terrain makes it unlikely for them to risk crossing to pick a fight.

She'd been disappointed when assigned to this patrol, truth be told, though she's been doing her best to hide it. They always do, but now that they have Cottonpaw glued to their side they make more of an effort to appear convincingly confident and unruffled. Their twitchiness likely suggests otherwise, though, as does the tension in her muscles as her pale blue gaze rests on the patrol across the way. The mood turns out to be surprisingly lax, though, thank StarClan. Icebreath remains alert regardless, afraid the peace might be spoiled at a moment's notice — which is why she doesn't try to discourage Cottonpaw from interacting with the black and white apprentice in the same way she had during the ThunderClan border patrol. No need to risk offending anyone, even if she doesn't at all enjoy seeing her apprentice interact with the other clans. They make a mental note to remind her later not to get too comfortable with these sorts of chats. At least the tom's, er, gruesome answer to Cottonpaw's question will hopefully deter her from messing around in such a dangerous place. "That's why you should never get close to the thunderpath or a monster," she adds on, looking down at the fluffy little molly with a furrowed brow.

Another apprentice's voice pulls her gaze back across the border, speaking of Pitchstar. These cats are so willing to talk about such sensitive topics with an enemy, aren't they? Then again, it's two kids who've initiated both tales; she's come to expect many cats their age to blabber. Icebreath isn't entirely sure how to reply, frankly, especially as she gets caught up for a moment in how odd his demeanor seems. Finally they part their jaws. "That's, um, unfortunate." Part of her is faintly curious about how he'd died, but it's hard to want to initiate further conversation with anyone who isn't a WindClanner.
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[cottonsprig]

The apprentices of the other Clans, Cottonpaw decides, are odd. First with Sandpaw and Lichenpaw in ThunderClan, boasting about their silly trees, and now Magpiepaw and Ghostpaw, fretting over the thunderpath and its monsters. Brindlepaw seems normal, if not as barbed as the warriors - but Cottonpaw is not exactly unused to abrasiveness. Regardless, she reminds herself as the black and white goes on-and-on about monsters, and how their leader was crushed by one, that they're ShadowClanners. They're not meant to be nice to one another, especially after they rudely ended the alliance (whatever that means.)

Knowledge is knowledge, still, and the tomcat offers his name. She glances first to Icebreath for some sort of permissive nod, gaze catching next onto Venomtongue as they let out a chuckle. She decides that she can offer her name, in the least - after all, worse comes to worse, it'd only be fair that he'd know the name of the cat that bested him should their interactions plummet further south (wishful thinking, given how early in her own training she is.) "I'm Cottonpaw," she greets in return, before tacking on a slightly more enthused, "I hope neither of us are crushed in a monster's jaws anytime soon then." Sounds gruesome, though given Juniperfrost's dead body a few weeks back, she's certain she can manage mushed-cat.

Ghostpaw is a little more peculiar (though by the time the white tom speaks, Cottonpaw decides that all ShadowClan cats are a bit loony.) He also speaks of an assumed dead cat - another leader, given his -star honorific - and how he also died by the thunderpath. Just... not by a monster, like Briarstar. "You're all unlucky, huh?" Cottonpaw speaks before thinking, which although quite normal for her, is something she needs to reign in again. She has half the mind to ask how Pitchstar died, the punchline to Ghostpaw's joke being largely unfinished to her. But Icebreath speaks, she reminds herself of where she is, who she's talking to, and she sidles just a bit closer to her mentor. "Unfortunate," she repeats after they speak, deciding to leave it there unless the apprentices entertain her more. ​