private YOU'RE IN THE WALLS I MADE \ nightbird

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

“I don’t know how it’s always us who gets assigned to the dangerous patrols,” the tabby says in a low, amused voice to his small, shadowy companion. “First the fox, now the boars… think Flycatcher is trying to get rid of us?”

Despite the easy manner Raccoonstripe teases Nightbird, he’s tense. His movements are stiff, shoulders back, ears perked. They are under strict orders not to engage the boars, and despite his head telling him to obey his superiors—to remember the gaping wounds left in his brother’s body—his heart is full of fire, of rage. Raccoonstripe wants to lay waste to every single one of the disgusting monsters who’d stolen Graystorm from him and his family. His desire for vengeance simmers hotly in his eyes.

He can’t, he knows he can’t. They hadn’t been sent to the Great Sycamore to fight an impossible battle and to die for it. They are here to investigate, to gather information and report back. ThunderClan will not be able to drive the boars away without knowledge of their behaviors, their patterns, their weaknesses. Raccoonstripe knows this. He also knows Nightbird doesn’t deserve to be dragged into his senseless desire to avenge his brother.

They reach the base of the massive tree, and Raccoonstripe’s nostrils flare. The scent of the creatures swells uncomfortably in his nose. “They’ve been here recently,” he mutters. “I wonder if they’ve camped nearby?

// @nightbird , feel free to manipulate the boars in your next post >:)
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[nightbird]

"how brazen of him," nightbird huffed, feigning shock with a wide eyed reaction. it certainly was an interesting coincidence, but there was no part of her that believed the deputy made these decisions with any malice. "when we return, we'll have to let him know he is going to have to try a little harder."

she followed along, movement hastened as to remain instep with racoonstripe's stride. the near rigidity of his movements is not lost to her gaze, she almost had to question if the striped warrior would be better off at camp, grieving the loss that hit his family hard. if it were anyone else she may have argued for them to be replaced after such circumstances. as arrogant as he could be, he was no idiot. she could trust that he would not throw himself at the first pig he saw in seek of revenge.

the great sycamore stands tall before them, it had not been long since she brought duskpaw here for his first outing as an apprentice. her ears twitched, jaw set. the scent of the boars was nearly suffocating, a putrid smell that could rival even that of shadowclan. even with the wind throwing scents around every which way, it wasn't too difficult to tell they had passed through, and recently. the grass was still pressed flat, undergrowth mangled from where they tore through it. nightbird nodded grimly to his question, tail sweeping to point out an area that was heavily impacted by broad hooves.

"perhaps the adders will 'em out," the lead warrior joked dryly, careful to keep her voice low enough to not draw any unwanted attention. she was nearly certain they had settled in that direction. tufts of coarse, muddy fur hung to bushes and almost highlighted the path. she stalked forward, pushing them closer yet careful to remain downwind as the scent grew stronger. her tail began lashing slowly behind her, almost nervously. they could not be caught, it would mean certain death. could not try and fight their way out, she solemnly remembered the dog that had broken into camp. how she had been knocked out of the fight so early it had embarrassed her. there would not be a repeat of that today, a simple reconnaissance mission would not go so brutally.

leading the charge, she slowed as the growth grew less dense, the boars sitting in plain sight. she had not seen them before. studying them with a silver scope they did not appear intensely threatening as they mindlessly moved dirt with their wide snouts, oafish steps carrying them to the next spot. their snuffled snorts were mostly drowned out with the howl of the angry wind.

her chest moved shallowly before, but in a moment her breath became caught in her throat. the draft shifted ferociously, blew her fur the opposite direction, sent thunderclan's scent barreling towards the herd. the molly's gaze blew wide as the wedged head of a young one lifted curiously, stared in their direction. her paws were glued to the ground as it toddled closer, claws slid into the dirt as it sniffed again and failed to find something more interesting. her gaze shifted slowly to raccoonstripe, hoping he would be in a clearer mindset, that he could make the call on whether to flee or quietly hold their ground. they only had so much more time before the mother would come looking for her stray offspring.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

”How brazen of him,” she says, keeping stride with him despite her considerably shorter legs. “When we return, we’ll have to let him know he’s going to have to try a little harder.” Despite the tension in the air, Raccoonstripe snorts with laughter. “A couple of brainless predators couldn’t take ThunderClan’s finest lead warriors out,” he jests, flashing a smile in her direction.

The Great Sycamore remains unchanged, but as Nightbird observes, Raccoonstripe too notices the flattened, trampled undergrowth. A vile scent clings to every leaf. She suggests the adders may drive them out, and the tabby makes a low noise of agreement in his throat. “Perhaps even an adder wouldn’t bite into flesh so vile,” he mutters in response.

Nightbird takes the lead, and he relinquishes easily enough. Though they are equals in every way, even in seniority, Raccoonstripe finds he doesn’t entirely mind following her directive. She’s capable enough—in some ways, she reminds him of Howlingstar, though his mother isn’t quite as full of edges. The tabby peers beside her through the brambles, eyes widening with immediate outrage at the sight of the boars huddling nearby. His teeth click together audibly, his chest constricting.

They would have been safe but for the wind—the awful, shrieking wind that buffets their fur the wrong way and scatters their scent like embers over the boars. He curses low under his breath. “Foxdung!” It’s a young one who shifts its face in their direction, its beady little eyes twinkling like shiny berries. He can feel Nightbird still beside him, and he knows she must be thinking what he is—that this is a kit, and that it’s mother may come looking for it at a moment’s notice.

He exhales slowly, breath hot and ragged. “We can’t scare it. It’ll start making all sorts of sounds, and we’ll be nothing but scraps of fur in a heartbeat.” His voice is barely a whisper—luckily, the gale is strong enough to scatter each syllable upon the wind the further it goes out. His mind races. “We need to back away… slowly… and hope it doesn’t make any noise.”

Raccoonstripe’s dark eyes never leave the staring boar kit. It watches him take several steps back, watches him slink away like a defeated foe. It burns his pride to do so, but he cannot suffer Graystorm’s fate—he has much left to accomplish, much left unfinished. The forest must know his name one day.

A wayward back paw finds a patch of brambles, and one sinks dangerously deep into his pad. He hisses in pain, the reaction immediate, and the baby boar lets out a string of hooting squeals that shatters the wind-smothered silence.
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[nightbird]

nightbird nods along to his words, uncaring if her noticed her recognition or not for she too was once again locked onto the young boar. she didn't bother voicing anything, with the wind and close proximity to their new neighbors she felt it an unsafe risk. instead, she followed in his steps, carefully placing one paw at a time to draw her backwards. her weight was shifted slowly and deliberately to avoid any unnecessary sounds or a stumble at the hand of the wind.

all appears to be going well, the baby seemingly not interested enough to will it to follow. they would only have to make it a little further before turning tail and returning home. despite a small hiccup it would be a good report, they had witnessed the herd at full force as well as where they had settled. the thought kept her grounded as she continued. at this point she could barely see the boar over the brush.

her peaceful rendition of how things were to go is quickly shattered. a painful hiss sounds from behind her, she begins to turn her head but it is quickly snapped back as the young boar begins squeaking. a warning call of some sort, it isn't missed by some of the larger boars. her gaze is wide as one swings its wedged head in their direction, the snapping of undergrowth quick to follow.

adrenaline pumps through her veins, and despite the pounding in her ears the molly's mind races to think of how they were to get out of there. a climb would be too risky given the weather situation, and from what she had heard there was no beating the beasts in a foot race. it had not charged yet, but as soon as it witnessed their movement the possibility of their demise would rise greatly.

looking around them with only her eyes, she saw an old oak tree only a few lengths away. it had a wide trunk, hollowed out at the bottom from the forces it stood through. she had used it before to stash prey, the opening that lead to the trunk just wide enough to allow one cat at a time entry but with a sizable enough interior that it would allow them both sanctuary. it would be a gamble to make it there, only a little closer to them than they were the angry boar, but she was willing to take the risk. especially when the other option was getting forked by a tusk.

"follow me. quickly," she commanded quietly, paws itching in anticipation. one more breath and she had taken off, soaring through the growth. they didn't have to look over their shoulder to know that they were being followed. hooves met the ground hard and angry squeals sounded. her heart pounded rapidly as she heard them growing closer, but she had almost reached it and could taste the success. a long leap sent her diving into the opening, the darkness inside had never been more inviting. but she was smart enough to save her celebration, for she was still alone in the trunk. she stared out almost anxiously, ready to leave again at a moments notice if raccoonstripe were to not make it inside with her.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe’s hammering heart floods his ears with roaring blood. One of the bigger boars snaps its head in their direction, heeding the squeal of its young. It makes its way over to them quickly; both lead warriors can no doubt hear the snapping of undergrowth being trampled under their bulk.

“Follow me. Quickly.” Nightbird’s voice is low. Raccoonstripe gives her a nod, trying to still his breath. Swift as the wind itself, she springs into action, pummeling the forest floor as she streaks toward an ancient oak tree. The tabby’s dark eyes follow her for only a heartbeat; the moment her paws leave the ground, his do too. He doesn’t take the time to look behind him—but he can scent the vile creatures now, trampling more foliage.

He's not nearly as fast as Nightbird, but Raccoonstripe puts every ounce of power into his escape. Heavy dark paws thunder against the earth, his tail waving behind him. He wonders if Graystorm had run like this—if he had, the tabby thinks bitterly, it hadn’t been enough.

Nightbird shoves her small black body into a crevice in the tree, and with a lunge, he secures himself at the entrance. It takes all his remaining strength to stuff himself into the small space, hoping against all odds that the beasts have lost them.

“Good thinking,” he puffs, trying to control his struggling breath. “I thought you’d go for the trees—you were worried the wind would shove us off and break our necks for us, weren’t you?” He hadn’t thought about it at the moment. “I’m lucky you were here, I guess. Pigs wouldn’t have had to finish me off,” he jokes.

Outside, hoofbeats sound just foxlengths from their tiny sanctuary. Raccoonstripe’s eyes widen in her direction, and he waits for what might happen next.
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[nightbird]

the sheltering hollow grows dark as raccoonstripe's form blocks the entrance. nightbird shifts towards the back, pressing her spine along the walls to give him room to enter. quicker than her eyes can adjust to the shadows, light flows freely to illuminate the fissure as the tabby makes it through.

breathing slowly, she tries to ease the rapid beat in her chest. her gaze was locked forward, trapped by approaching shadows. an ear flicks involuntarily as he praised her wit and continued on, only barely masking the sounds of hoofbeats outside. the trees, he was right that they would have been her first choice. a small grin nipped at the corners of her mouth. "for all of your skills, i have never heard a praise sung for your climbing abilities. but yes, that too," her voice came out with a slight tremor despite it's teasing tone as the adrenaline began to wear off from their swift brush with death.

lucky, he guesses. nightbird snorts wryly, leaning to push herself into a more upright position. "fortunately i'm feeling kind today." a lull in conversation amplified the heavy plodding of the boar outside, reminded her of their predicament thus hastening her breath once more. raccoonstripe appears more doe than cat, still as he fixed her with a wide gaze. nightbird blinks, dipping and ducking to peek out of the break in the tree where the boar snuffed around, searching. even if the creature tried, it wouldn't be able to breach the tree. hopefully. "it'll have to get bored at some point, right? do we just wait it out?" her questions were stupid. if they were asked to her they would likely be met with a scoff, but something the hoofbeats that shuffled outside was grating to her ears forcing her to want to drown them out.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

There’s the now-familiar sound of their precious undergrowth being trampled beneath diamond-hard hooves. Raccoonstripe’s ear flicks with annoyance; he glowers with gleaming dark eyes at what little he can see from their hollow. His own breathing slowly, surely, begins to match hers—rhythmically, they catch themselves, and the earth beneath their paws becomes real again. They’ve lived—to fight another day, another boar.

Nightbird’s comment causes him to stifle a chuckle. He throws her a smile. “Well, you’re right. Most of the praise sung about me is related to my wit, my charm, and my absolute luck with the ladies.” He settles, noticing now that the blood has drained from his ears that there is very little space between them. “You seemed to know about this place already,” he notes, raising an eyebrow. “Lemme guess—this is where you take all your dates.”

The tabby’s thick tail thumps once against the ground. Her question—“It’ll have to get bored at some point, right?”—causes him to frown for just a moment. Suppose it didn’t, and they’d have to make another mad dash for their lives? Suppose one of them didn’t make it. The image of the small black smoke speared on one of those monster’s tusks nearly causes him to shudder, but he manages to remain still. He could not bear to watch her—or anyone in ThunderClan—die as Graystorm must have. “We’ll get out, one way or another,” he says grimly.

But then he shrugs, his smile returning. “Why—are you that eager to get away from me? And here I thought we were connecting on a personal level…”
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[nightbird]

nightbird nods along to his recited feats as if they are of upmost interest to her. "ah, yes. and remarkably humble too," she remarks lightly in a relaxed tone that betrays her hard gaze focused outside. he drawls on, noticing how it seemed likely she had been here before. her head lifts slightly in the beginning of a nod, jaws cracking to explain how she had used it while hunting. however, it seemed he had beat her to the chase, filling the space with his own prediction.

"guilty," she sighs in mock defeat. the molly turns to meet his gaze with a small shrug. "can you blame me? it's quite lovely." it was not. dark, damp from rains past, upon leaving they would be nothing short of filthy. if she were to spend her days trapsing around the territory with a lover, it would not be so that they could spend their time in the hollow of a tree that seemed to precede life itself.

the air quickly grew heavy, nearly somber. 'one way or another', raccoonstripe says. she cannot find a reason to disagree other than her dislike of the implication of their demise. she was beyond willing to lay down her life for thunderclan if it meant it shall prosper, but death to the boars brought no glory. still, if someone were to die here nightbird would rather it be her. raccoonstripe had a large family waiting for a safe return at camp, she couldn't even imagine having to tell howlingstar he had suffered a dreadful end.

nightbird grows rigid in her breath, glancing outside once more as her gaze had trailed off. when she looked back he was smiling, grinning as if he had only been talking about something as mundane as the weather. dark ears twitched in slight irritation. although tempted to reach out and wipe the expression off his face, her paws remained underneath her form. "please. we both have better things to do than spend the day cowering in a hole." it was true that there were worse cats she could be caught here with, but that didn't mean she found much joy in their predicament. he shouldn't either, always noting his ample suitors that would surely be happy to occupy his time. "besides, i wouldn't want to cause strife between you and your 'ladies'. imagine how they will feel to know i brought you to my secret date location?"​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

The tabby chuckles at Nightbird’s addition. “Humble, yes. It’s usually at the bottom of the list, but it’s there.” He peers at her in the gloom of the hollow, observing the silvery glow of her eyes. It matches the frost in her voice, the mask of ice she wears. He wonders what lies beneath—or if it’s not a mask at all.

He tilts his head, raising his white forepaw to lick as he grooms what he can only assume is spiderwebs from his cheeks and whiskers. “Absolutely stunning location,” he agrees. “But I’m a little jealous… who’s the lucky cat?” He knows she’s playing along, but he can’t help but be curious—is there a secret lover she hides from the Clan to keep her reputation as taciturn ice queen?

Perhaps his dip into solemnity has disturbed her, or troubled her, at least. She does not say anything, not until he breaks through with another joke. The twitch of her ears betrays her frustration, but she’s a good enough sport to continue with his ribbing. “Besides, I wouldn't want to cause strife between you and your 'ladies'. Imagine how they will feel to know I brought you to my secret date location?" His grin widens.

“Could be scandalous,” he agrees airily. “Still, even they couldn’t blame me for spending a day in a lovely place with a lovely she-cat.” He flicks the tip of his tail, gaze moving from the starlight-paleness of her eyes to the forest outside their hiding place. He stills, listening for any signs of movement, and exhales softly when there’s nothing. “Do you think it’s safe?”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — raccoon . raccoonstripe
  — he/him ; lead warrior of thunderclan
  — heteroflexible ; single
  — long-haired black tabby with white and dark brown eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Rai

​

 

[nightbird]

although not looking, she does not miss the feeling of prying eyes. whatever he is searching for, the tabby leaves no hints in his chuckle nor lighthearted words. when she looks back he is preening, dusting the debris of their cage free from his face. "i wouldn't think a warrior of your standing could be jealous of anything." she brushes off the question coyly, tail flicking to cover her paws.

nightbird didn't think his grin could grow any wider, but she stood corrected. it felt odd to be on the receiving end. mostly she was greeted by less than beaming displays. she could only wonder if this was all some sort of ploy, if in due time things would come burning down before her. "i believe they could find a way." face twisted into a simper, she followed his gaze back outside. no longer were there sounds of snuffling and hooves. the coast seemed relatively clear, raccoonstripe noted it too.

"hopefully," she huffed, but it was not long until she was brushing past him to make her exit. time wasted holed away, a quick glance would reveal that the boar had moved onto something else. it was good, they were far past due for a return. a quick stretch to rid her limbs of the traces of confinement, and she was on her way back to camp at a brisk trot whether the other lead warrior was in tow or not.​