Thrushwing turned his head back to Jaystorm, smiling. "It's wonderful to have you as a friend, as well." He purred, picking up speed to get back to the camp.
((Do you want to continue the RP at the camp?))
Yes, please, or even just inthe territory is fine.
Camp it is.
I'll post first.)
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B L U EJ E L L I E
~~~~~ Wattpad || DeviantArt || Rando - Deepo
i think it goes without saying that im completely 100% inactive on this site now,, sorry! if you leave me a message there’s a small chance i’ll see it in, like, six months and reply, but that’s about it. hello and goodbye ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
With the heavy rains that had been tormenting the Clans, it was no surprise the marshy forest ground was sodden, sticky to the touch with fresh, thick mud as the heavy paw-steps of the patrol stomped through the forest. The pine forest was alive with the sound of croaking toads and ribbiting frogs, awaken and drawn out by the fresh rainfall. The crows and other birds were silent, concealed from the chilled air and wetness in the comforts of their nests.
Though the rainfall brought with it life, Peachfuzz was certain the foul weather originated from StarClan. It was clear to the warrior They were especially displeased with the continued presence of abominations within the Clans. He could understand why, with so many of the scum in control of the Clans. If it were not for the attention-seekers that wanted to feel special by worshipping the Dark Forest with their homosexuality and insistence they were not their birth gender, the life of the Clans would be considerably better. They were the scourge of Clan-life, followed by mollies that thought they had a place as warriors.
Gazing past the border line into the thinning trees of ThunderClan territory, the Maine Coon warrior could not help but feel some satisfaction at the thought of one of the former leaders. Ashstar. The deceased grey tom had been blatantly gay, with that worthless excuse of a mate he dubbed Smokesky. What kind of tom would play queen? The Dark Forest surely had a hard grasp around the other Clan, with StarClan's divine intervention freeing them from one filthy gay into the paws of another.. then the paws of a molly. Peachfuzz could not recall a time the Clan had been clean. The Evil Era leader Ratnight would have been ideal, but he was no better than the gays with his following of the Dark Forest.
One day, Peachfuzz thought, ThunderClan will see the Light. They will be freed from the Dark Forest's hold, and join us in StarClan's Embrace. As it stood, ShadowClan was not perfect, unfortunately - with Halestar and Daypaw as leader and medicine cat, the Clan could not be blessed by StarClan's Enlightenment. Peachfuzz was working on that. It was His Duty as Their voice to preach to the Clans of their sins. Halestar needed to see her use was in the nursery, resigned as a queen, with a litter of kits at her side. Daypaw needed to understand the same. She was wasting time as a medicine cat when she could be spending her days learning how to hunt small prey and raise kits. There was plenty of queens willing to give advice to mollies.
[Warning: This post contains some homophobia]
The Maine Coon had to stop a scowl from forming on his maw as he stepped in a large puddle of wet, sticky mud. Gross, He thought, lifting his paw up and shaking it. Bits of brown mud flung in all directions and landed everywhere, but Pyritecrest took no notice of that. The warrior stepped over the puddle carefully and then continued to pad after the rest of the patrol. His face scrunched up into a weird expression has he stepped forward with his mud covered paw. Although all his paws were covered with mud, the large amount of mud on this paw was wet and uncomfortable. Hopefully the wet grass would remove a bit of it, as he really didn’t want to clean it off afterwards.
“At least walking through this mud will be worth it,” Pyritecrest remarked, a sinister grin cracking onto his maw. To rid the clans and the world of one more gay cat would be surely be pleasing to him and his family. Those cats contaminate our kind by straying away from what they should be doing, He thought. It always cheered him up when he insulted others. They deserved to be hated. Those foul creatures shouldn’t be living amongst the proper cats if they were going to be so stupid. They don’t think their actions through and they just do it. She-cats should be staying in the nursery yet they don’t. Instead, they choose to fight and some, even choose to lead. Homosexuals choose to fall in love with those of the same gender, rather than those of the opposite. It was truly disgusting.
“How much longer do we have to walk?” Pyritecrest asked, annoyance flashing in his pale yellow orbs. The sound of rain constantly pattering was really starting to get on his nerves. He was getting sick of the coldness that came with the rain. Not to forget, it meant that the warrior had hardly any chances to be dry and warm. Everything was cold and wet. The damp grass and sticky mud was slowly them down too. It was awful. I hope we’re nearly there, He thought, looking up to the sky as if asking StarClan to make the walk shorter.
Finally, He thought when they reached the border. He looked across the border that ThunderClan and ShadowClan shared, his tail waving around impatiently. His eyes narrowed as he tried to spot for any signs that a ThunderClan patrol might be nearby. If they were lucky, maybe they could even come across their next 'victim'. Over there! He thought excitedly as he heard a rustle from a bush in the other clan’s territory. It was just a squirrel. The disappointment was clear on his face as he edged a little closer to the line. “Do they even bother to patrol their borders nowadays?” He asked, looking at his siblings for some sort of an answer. He hadn’t been on any border patrols recently. He had volunteered for hunting patrols only.
Since his fur wasn’t as thick as the rest of his siblings, Aspenfall didn’t particularly mind the mud. Then again, this tom was well known around ShadowClan for always having a smile present and his upturned attitude shining like an unusual light; nothing ever really bothered him. His pelt was drenched and already clinging to his slightly bulky frame, the rain washing over him like the waves did the shore where they resided. Dark storm clouds billowed out overhead, releasing a few rogue raindrops and he shook his whiskers as another pesky droplet splashed on their edges. Eyes darting to his littermate, Pyritecrest, he had to stifle a laugh as he flicked his paws in frustration, mud flying every which way.
”You’d make a terrible RiverClan cat.” The maine coon joked, casting a playful glance towards his brother. Out of all the cats on the patrol, Aspenfall was likely the only one to make any joke about their current situation. He knew for sure Peachfuzz wasn’t one to toss around unnecessary banter, and he assumed that Pyritecrest wouldn’t necessarily like his sarcastic tone. Nonetheless, the young warrior grinned and turned his gaze forward, coming to a halt as they reached the border. The strong smell of rain and sludge thoroughly masked the ThunderClan markings, though they were still detectible if sought out. They didn’t smell too fresh, at least not to Aspenfall, so the ShadowClan tom assumed that a border patrol was due any moment now.
I wonder what Peachfuzz is going to do, he thought to himself, turning his eyes away from the path before them and placing them on his brother. He’d chosen to stick close to his older brother’s side when chosen for the patrol, and admiration clearly shown as he gazed at him. Ever since he was a kit in the nursery, he had looked up to Peachfuzz. His fighting skills, and ability to be blunt and persuasive immensely impressed the young Aspenfall, and it wasn’t long until he decided that he wanted to be just like the wise ShadowClan warrior when he got to be around his age. Now, with his sibling standing there, gazing off across ThunderClan’s large expanse of woodland territory, anticipation flexed through each limb of Aspenfall’s; maybe it was finally his time to prove to his older brother just how far he had come during his own warrior training.
The clouds overhead were gray and murky as the ThunderClan patrol trudged across the wed mud and grass. The large, dark-furred tom's seemingly always disheveled fur was becoming clustered with mud on his legs and paws, and he paused to shake his front right leg in annoyance, clearing it of only what felt like an infinitesimal amount of the brown, wet substance. Nightmane was feeling quite malaise about the patrol, despising both the weather and patrolling near the border with ShadowClan. The ThunderClan tom didn't mind patrolling near the WindClan border as much. It was ShadowClan he near couldn't stand. That was the Clan his sister had gone to after her little tryst with her female ShadowClan lover; the two had become loners after that, though, and he hadn't an inkling of an idea of where she was now or how she was doing. Call him cruel, but he didn't really care anymore, as he no longer thought of her as family. Even if she had stayed he likely would've ostracized her from his own life.
Needless to say, he did not want to be in this patrol. Unfortunately, it was not his choice today, being chosen for it, and he nearly pretended to be ill to get out of it. He figured it wouldn't be a good idea to malinger, though, and simply went with the task. The peevish and bitter tom continued onward toward the border, until they finally reached it. His day was made worse, however, when he caught sight of a ShadowClan patrol and caught the comment of a yellow-eyed Maine Coon in the patrol about ThunderClan's patrolling. Continuing to listen to another Maine Coon who seemed to be a sibling joke about, he was immediately irritated by the tom, at least more so than any ShadowClan cat themselves. He knew it was irrational and ridiculous, but he was easily annoyed by any feline who was overly upbeat or cloy. Even if they weren't "overly," he definitely considered this tom to be so in his own opinion.
Green eyes glanced across the muddy terrain as Dusksoul approached the border with the patrol. The rain seemed to drag on forever, and to be completely honest, the calico couldn't even remember what time a day it was anymore. She simply kept her ears sharp, searching for any disturbances, as she was very good at listening. It wasn't long before she found herself crouched in the brush beside her clanmate, however, ears pushed up and pointed forward, listening to the Shadowclan patrol intently.
Dusksoul made no sign of movement, no indication of emotion. She simply listened and awaited instruction. This was what she was best at; recon. The green-eyed calico could sit and listen all day if need be and would do so gladly. As long as it took her mind off of the hustle and bustle of camp. The Thunderclan she-cat thought about the cats back home, wondering what they were doing. 'They're probably all hiding from the rain,' she thought, her gaze plastered to the large, seemingly stoic tom leading the patrol.
What would she be able to do against any of these cats? They all seemed much stronger than her. Maybe she could out-maneuver them. After all, she was very flexible and had speed on her side. The past thirteen moons had taught her much, including how to use her weakness as her strength. 'I hope we don't have to fight them,' she thought. There was always a peaceful solution, even if other, more hot-headed cats disagreed.
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I'm so sorry for any and all inactivity on this site. I'm in a decent spot now and can try to finally get back into the warriors scene. My Chars | Finder
Sticking close to the ThunderClan border patrol, Smokesky kept his thoughts trained on their task rather than allowing them to wander; it was the sole coping mechanism that'd been working for him after losing his mate and kits many moons ago. His emotional recovery had been slow but steady, and the pain was easing to make room for his life to begin coming around. He'd started to feel better about himself and his situation with the help of filling his days with patrols and other warrior duties.
It was the little things that made the difference. His grief didn't distract from his everyday life, and he could focus on being alert, such as now while he walked with the patrol. Nightmane wouldn't have been his first choice considering the tom's seemingly sour mood--indicated by his expression--but Dusksoul appeared to be in decent spirits to his relief.
Approaching the border they shared with ShadowClan, Smokesky's ears tilted forward in time to catch the voices of said Clan's warriors, suppressing a defeated sigh as he soon saw their figures moving through the woodland. He didn't want drama today. Glancing to the patrol members, the gray-flecked tom murmured, "Let's just ignore them and finish what we have to do here." The warriors from ShadowClan weren't doing anything against the Code since they were on the correct side. A fight, verbal or otherwise, wasn't worth their energy. Perhaps we'll be able to return to camp before moonrise as long as they don't notice we're here. Smokesky wasn't fond of anyone outside of ThunderClan cats, having grown distrustful after countless tragedies in his life caused by them.
The patrol seemed to walk in silence, only disturbed by their paws trudging through the mud underpaw left by the many rain-falls as of lately. Finchcall brought up the rear of he patrol. Like the others he was with, he remained silent and didn't bother speaking with his fellow clan-mates. It wasn't out of dislikes or anything like that, but rather he simply felt no pressure to have a conversation with them. The damp weather made him hope that this would go quickly and without trouble. Then he would be able to return to camp soon and maybe even dry off in the warriors' den and clean the mud off his pelt. Finchcall's nose wrinkled at the thought of the sour taste of mud.
As they continued, he had mixed feelings about this patrol heading towards Shadowclan.
The grey warrior wasn't well acquainted with these clan-mates - though he only befriended a few since he was desperately loyal to those he befriended, and it would be difficult to share that much loyalty with many cats. He also wasn't a fan of the rain or mud, this weather is fine for a half-fish like Riverclan, but can't say the same for Thunderclan, tail flicking a bit at the thought. But he did wish to get out of camp. Like many of the cats that hate water, he had been trying to avoid going out of camp for too long, but being forcing himself to cramped in camp all day had made him restless and aggravated. So the tom had jumped at the chance to go onto the patrol.
After all, they had no quarrel with Shadowclan at the moment, so how long could it take?
With the water that had soaked into his long fur, he was beginning to be dragged down by the accumulating weight and he questioned why he even wanted to go on this patrol. Well, too late now. All you can do is try not to think about the bad and hope this goes by quickly, silently talking to himself, he attempted to change his mood for the better. Thoughts continuing to drift to subjects other than the patrol, Finchcall was abruptly jolted back to the present but Smokesky's sudden voice. He stopped - splashing in the mud as he did so, which caught in is long fur - the tom perked his ears up to listen to the tom. His own pale gaze slipped past the grey warrior and he noticed the rival clan's patrol. He was still a bit cautious due to the rising tensions between Windclan and their own clan, but he had to now in agreement to Smokesky's words.
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" you either pick yourself up, or you let yourself down
life will always be tough, so who are you now? „
Sorreltuft felt strange, being on a patrol with his brother-in-law, whom he strongly disliked, and Peachfuzz's siblings. He didn't mind the stormy weather or the marshy ground that formed squelching noises beneath his heavy steps. Mud soaked into the spaces between his toes, but he easily ignored what most would decide to be an irritating feeling. He padded along, his head lowered close to the ground and his weight shifting with every step. He wrinkled his muzzle and turned his head away when Pyritecrest shook mud everywhere. Sorreltuft didn't mind the mud on his paws, but he didn't exactly appreciate the wet substance on his muzzle. He flashed Pyritecrest a sharp glare, but remained quiet. He observed Aspenfall's obvious admiration, and he wondered why the younger tomcat looked up to someone like Peachfuzz.
He halted behind the siblings, his tail swinging softly behind him. His eyes were narrowed against stray raindrops, his whiskers twitching whenever the clear liquids clung to them. Sorreltuft stood tall, which was a rather impressive height. And with his thick, medium-length fur, he could appear as an intimidating tomcat. He searched the area, his gaze skimming the forest across the border. He released a quiet sigh, removing his gaze to instead look at his paws which he shuffled in the mud below him. He didn't know why he had willingly joined the patrol. He couldn't stand Tinyfuzz's mate and the in-laws, but he felt he had to, for his sister. If he wanted to protect Tinyfuzz, he'd have to understand the possible danger, and in this case, Peachfuzz was the danger. Sorreltuft was interested in experiencing just how Peachfuzz would lead a border patrol - especially if they were to stumble upon a rival ThunderClan patrol.
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! WARNING !
My activity is likely gonna be a lil' wacky, so please be patient with me if we're roleplaying! Thank you so much!
The thoughts running through the tabby's mind were disrupted by the sound of his brother's voice, and Peachfuzz glanced at Pyritecrest. "What are you, a gay? Use your nose. Rain may have diluted some of the scent, but you can still taste those Dark Forest lovers in the air. They had a patrol go through here the other day." Overall, he was not bothered by the rain and cold - it served merely as a reminder of StarClan's anger, and the warrior was determined to do something to appease Them.
"Thank StarClan he isn't!" Peachfuzz growled. "RiverClan today stands to be the worse Clan. The leader is not only a molly, but wants us to believe she is a tom and gay. Their medicine cat - perfectly capable of providing for the Clan as a queen - has chosen to waste time chewing up plants and spitting them onto wounds. Fallenstream is the only hope that Clan has of obtaining StarClan's Grace." He did not know a lot about the RiverClan deputy, but he seemed promising at a glance. Only time would tell if he would remain an ideal candidate for RiverClan leader. With RiverClan's track record, it was not looking good.
Stopping near the border, Peachfuzz's sharp gaze rested on the gray form of Smokesky. "If it is not Ashstar's princess. How does it feel, having your hopes and dreams dashed by StarClan's Will?" The lower lip of the Maine Coon curled up, "It must of hurt, knowing you and your mate are abominations and a disgrace to your Clan. ThunderClan would be better off without you polluting the ranks of queen and warrior." Not perfect, but the Clan certainly would be heading in the right direction. Maybe they needed a push. Goldeneye surely would not mind him eliminating a problem, and Halestar's opinion did not matter - she was not the rightful leader of ShadowClan.
Re: ThunderClan | ShadowClan Border
