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The Buttery Ball of Anxiety
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Jeezum Crow
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Post by alchepalch on Apr 6, 2017 13:06:33 GMT -5
Campioncloud followed the silver apprentice on lean paws. She was fairly satisfied that the molly was able to find the deputy. Even if Mistpaw had got off track a few times(she would make sure to encourage her more) she still did good. Now the patrol was in sight.
"You did great. Good job Mistpaw." She smiled wide. "I'm sure both of your parents will be very proud of your accomplishments today." With that, the classic tabby past the apprentice and towards the patrol. "Wigeonpath.." She began respectfully as she approached the tortoiseshell tabby. But a different, much more distinct scent hit her nose. She looked up and a WindClan cat stand on the other side of the border. She lowered her ears and flicked her tail - a warning. мικαcнʋ ,purerubydragon ,kiwistickers ,Bluebird , Egg
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Post by мικαcнʋ on Apr 10, 2017 19:29:14 GMT -5
Two more Riverclan cats joined the existing trio, and Swiftclaw felt his stomach drop, as if a great eagle had carried him into the sky and let go. His usually lively eyes, bright with excitement and happiness, were dark as he studied the other clan. Both sides were keeping to their territory, but what if one of them decided to trespass? A low, but quiet, growl emerged from his throat, and he extended his long legs as he stalked forward, trying to imagine that this was a normal situation. That he was the hunter, and that the Riverclan cats were something to avoid. The large tom glanced back in the direction of the camp, his attentive ears swiveling back and forth as he tried to catch a sound from the Riverclanners, a voice, a paw step, something. Would they be able to send backup if him and Deerpath were attacked? Would the hunting patrol find them in time?
As Swiftclaw glanced back at the group of Riverclan cats, his eyes landed on one of the newer she-cats. She was staring at him, ears low and tail flicking. A growl almost rumbled in Swiftclaw's throat, and he glanced back at Deerpath. Part of him wanted to ask her for a suggestion or advice, but he also knew that he would have to be a leader. Mossstar assigned him to lead the patrol. He wasn't going to let her down.
So Swiftclaw straightened his posture and sat, trying to make himself look as obvious to the Riverclan cats as possible. They had already been spotted, stealth wasn't an option at this point. Ears perked, in an alert, attentive way, Swiftclaw curled his tail around so it was in front of him and allowed his fluffy tail tip to move side to side, another body sign indicating that he was alert and interested. The large tom wanted to present him and Deerpath not as threatening, but as curious individuals who kept alert watch over their clan's land. And as he looked at the Riverclan cats, he hoped his message would get through.
As he compared the numbers of the Riverclan cats to the two cats in his patrol, an idea sprung in his mind. He broke his gaze away from the Riverclan cats and looked behind him, as if the hunting patrol and more Windclan warriors had joined to help defend their territory in case a fight broke out. As he turned to face the Riverclan cats, Swiftclaw hoped that they would fall for it, and be dissuaded from starting a fight.
Tagging: purerubydragon,kiwistickers,Bluebird, alchepalch, Egg
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sticky | they/them | mega gay
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Post by kiwistickers on Apr 11, 2017 12:48:31 GMT -5
birchstorm | he/him | warrior | 51 moons (4.2 years) | riverclan
Birchstorm's ears twitched at the sound of Campioncloud and Mistpaw's voices. What were they doing here? They weren't on patrol with them. The large gray tom shifted his eyes slightly to look at them, fur pricking uncomfortably. Ears flattened, Birchstorm sloshes back a few steps, aware he was starting to sink in the mud. He watches Campioncloud uneasily and follows her line of sight. To his dismay, there were more cats on the other side of the stream. By the looks of it, there were more than he could see at the moment. Completely surrounded and stuck in the puddle pit of death, Birchstorm decidedly did not want to go down like this.
Despite being partially submerged in the filthy water, Birchstorm's tail lashes dangerously. Disregarding the WindClan cat's peaceful demeanor, he offers a low growl. "Don't," He hisses.
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