**Petalflight**
Thunderclan
The silent tortoiseshell made her way out of the Thunderclan camp and out across the territory. This was the first time she'd ventured out of camp alone since being welcomed into the clan by Thunderclan's former leader. It wasn't that she didn't feel she could hold her own, though she was well aware of the looming threat of Delphic. The rogue obviously cared not for clan boundaries and she held a grudge better than anybody Petalflight had ever known. It wouldn't surprise her any if the bloodthirsty she-cat was just waiting for her opportunity to enact her revenge on her for turning as she had against the now-broken group. All the same, being confined in camp was stuffy and overbearing and going out with a Thunderclanner wasn't much better. She liked Blackfir but he was growing increasingly clingy for reasons Petalflight couldn't fully comprehend. She got the sense that the tom had begun to look at her differently, he treated her tenderly whereas before he'd been more friendly, more like she saw from how he interacted with the other Thunderclanners. Now he treated her different than he seemed to treat anybody else. Petalflight didn't hardly know what a friend was or how one was supposed to interact with a friend so conceptualizing anything
beyond friends was foreign to her, though she'd seen some cats acting more tender towards one another in camp though it was still different than how Blackfir treated her. The cats who treated one another tenderly touched one another and were comfortable, Blackfir seemed flushed more often and didn't necessarily touch her, not in the same manner that those other tender cats did, so Petalflight couldn't be sure if it was the same or not.
She scented her way through Thunderclan's territory as it had grown increasingly more familiar. The Thunderclan scent still felt somewhat foreign to her, as though it were a clan that she did not belong to but she was finding it easier every day to tune out the scent that now enveloped her day in and day out. Until another familiar, though significantly less so, scent hit her nose. It was strong, stronger than she remembered the last time she'd been near this area. Her muscles tensed. She remembered Blackfir teaching her about the other clans, which one was this? The scent was airy and heathery. She crouched and peeked over a bush. The shrubbery had grown scarcer and when she focused through the trees she noticed open land beyond.
The clan on the moor...Air...no, Windclan. She crept slowly through the undergrowth, keeping her eyes across the border. The scent seemed too close though she couldn't say exactly where the Thunderclan border ended and Windclan territory began but she knew it was her duty to run off any clans who stepped over the border. She wasn't sure, though, that she cared to get into a fight over imaginary lines. The idea of borders never felt logical to her, especially to spill blood over. All the same, having unknown cats around her left her fidgety and she knew she couldn't turn her back on a cat without knowing where they were.
The scents around her grew nearly overwhelming and she suddenly lost the direction of where the single strong scent had come from. She paused, trying to sort out the scents from Thunderclan's markers and Windclan's markers and whoever was carrying the scent she was sure came from a Windclanner too near the border. The scent suddenly washed over her as the wind shifted, pushing out the lingering scent of Thunderclan and washing her in Windclan scent but she had no time to react before a weight landed on top of her, claws digging through her pelt and scoring her flesh beneath.
**Pignut**
Windclan
The pale warrior slipped out of camp, crouching as he ran lowly through the heather grasses. Out of sight of camp he took in a deep breath and stood taller. His family liked to meet every moon for sparring practice. Cowwillow had informed him of the planned practice today and he knew there'd be a wrath that could rival the Dark Forest awaiting him when he returned. He had the prepared excuse of going out to hunt and forgetting about the practice even though he knew the excuse would never fly, eh he'd probably never try the excuse anyway. He frequently made excuses for his own mind that he never voiced to his family; it was no use, after all. None of them, himself included, cared for excuses. He was sure the only thing keeping him in his family's good graces, namely his mother's, was his keen abilities as a warrior. He'd spent his own share of stints as his mother's favorite, but as he became more established in his warriorhood, branching out into other circles beyond just his own family, he became increasingly aware that he didn't
need his mother's approval anymore. It was easy to come to that conclusion when he was away from her but around his family he inevitably felt himself pulled back into their sometimes bloody and merciless competition amongst one another. So it felt easier for him to avoid the practices and meetings when he was able, even if that meant taking her punishments when she saw him next. Most of Pignut's scars came from his family but his most prominent facial scar came from his mother and one of her punishments; that particular story had been one of the times he'd fallen from her graces while he had been her favorite, and therefore singularly claimed, kit.
Pignut pushed his family, and whatever future punishment awaited him, from his mind and made his way out through the territory, keeping his lips parted for prey scent. The scent of rabbit floated up and met his senses against the breeze but it was mingled with the wet scent of dirt. He crouched down and made his pawsteps light, moving towards the source of the scent. He found the hole to the burrow easy enough but the rabbit was long buried in its depths. He could go in after it as he was sure it couldn't be too far in but, with the weather warming, it wasn't worth the effort or the underground battle so he moved on. Another rabbit caught his senses but only heartbeats before he saw it burst from a thick clump of heather and make off just past him. He unsheathed his claws and sprang forward, getting into a close race for the rabbit's snuffed tail. With one final spring, he put his all into his back legs which brought him just within striking distance of the fleeing rabbit. One last stretch, he extended his unsheathed claws out towards the rabbit's haunches and bore down. The rabbit, in its fit of pain and panic, turned on him, lashing out with its powerful back legs. Pignut avoided the worst of the direct kicks, shifting his hold up the rabbit's back as he scuffled with it in the grass until he could get a firm hold on the rabbit's spine. The prey didn't give up its fight for life easily however, though luckily its blows could no longer reach him as he held firmly and kept his body low to the ground to prevent the rabbit from being able to shift around at him. Gradually, the rabbit's strikes grew weaker, the body in his hold flailing less, until the movements died down altogether. Pignut rose, stretching out his neck to release the tightness of the awkward hold and licked at the shallow wounds from the rabbit's claws between his deep pants.
When he'd caught his breath some, he dug a hole and buried the freshkill before moving further away from camp. Squirrel washed over him and he crouched down, tracking the scent until he was stopped by the scent of Thunderclan. His eyes moved until they landed on the squirrel. The taunting rodent was perched on just this side of the Thunderclan border, so technically it was fair game for him to catch, though he knew as soon as he went after it it'd surely run into Thunderclan territory, or else, if he could get it before it ran, he risked pushing it and himself over the border. If he wanted to try for it he'd need to be smart about it. He moved silently through the grass to put his flank against the border then stalked forward toward the squirrel. Until another scent stole his attention,
Thunderclan. The squirrel forgotten, Pignut turned toward the scent, trying to decipher where it was coming from. Then his eyes caught a flash of orange and black behind him, on Windclan territory. He cocked his head and moved toward the trespasser until they came into view. They seemed to be alone and smaller than himself. He crouched down but before he could pounce he felt the wind suddenly shift against his back. He knew he had no time to linger any longer and pounced. He felt his claws connect to their target and the trespasser fell to the ground but only before the Thunderclanner shifted beneath him and turned, far more agile than the rabbit had been able to manage. He didn't get a chance to plant his teeth and a searing pain shot up his leg as his opponent's teeth sank into his foreleg. He hissed and drew back his leg then shot it out, scoring a hit across the other's face before planting his paw on their throat to hold their head back at a safe angle. For the first time he got a decent look at the cat and realized they were a she-cat, not that it made much difference to the tom. She'd been across the border, but that also didn't matter much to him. The borders were fairly arbitrary in his opinion though he'd always respected them out of respect for his clan and defended them as it was his vow. The blaze in the green eyes staring up at him was not that of venom or hate, though, which intrigued Pignut. It looked blank, determined but not angry. He cocked his head and removed pressure from his claws but didn't dare move away from the other cat.
The Thunderclan she-cat hissed as the pressure eased slightly. He smiled,
"What're you hissing at me for? You're the one on the wrong side of the border."
He saw the indignation in her eyes shift and then her eyes moved away from him and at their surroundings.
She doesn't even realize, he thought with amusement. This was a full-grown warrior, not some apprentice who'd mindlessly crossed the border after some prey, and yet here she was completely confused as to where exactly her own border is. He lingered on top of her for a few more heartbeats until she looked back at him, the flare in her eyes had quelled some though there was a clear wall there that prevented him from reading her expression. After a moment of her lying still and silent, Pignut meowed,
"I'm going to get off now. I'd rather not kill you over some silly border misunderstanding so don't attack me, okay?" She didn't respond but her green eyes stayed locked on him. Though he couldn't totally read her expression he thought he saw some easement of concession or relief in her features so he slowly removed his paw then backed away. He sat down, curling his yellow tail around himself as he watched the she-cat rise to her paws and lock her eyes on him again. She still hadn't said a word and he found his curiosity piquing.
"What's your name?"
The Thunderclan she-cat's eyes locked on him but she was silent, as though assessing his question for signs of trickery. Pignut wasn't sure he'd ever met a cat so silent and solemn but there was something about her. Finally she did speak up in an oddly crackly, small voice,
"Petal...flight."
Pignut smiled. He was beginning to understand. For a moment she had seemed to forget her own name and he felt fairly certain that she wasn't clan born, unless she was a brand new warrior and the hesitation was simply her wanting to say
paw. He decided to take the leap,
"You're new to the clans, aren't you?"
Once again, the she-cat hesitated to answer as though searching for how her answer could be used to exploit her. Finally she nodded.
Pignut relaxed a bit. She seemed even less comfortable about the clan thing than she did about being faced with him and something about that made him relax. He took in a breath and then meowed,
"It all makes sense now. The borders thing is tricky and doesn't make much sense, hm? Even for some of us who've lived it our whole lives."
He watched the she-cat closely and noticed her body language change for possibly the first time. Her guard slipped a little and Pignut's smile grew. She hadn't said much of anything but something about her was interesting and he found himself irreversibly determined to get to know the apparently difficult to get to know she-cat.
"What made you choose Thunderclan?"
The she-cat tensed again and Pignut felt himself tense as well, worried that he'd misstepped. She glanced back across the border and Pignut stood up in some attempt to draw her attention back to him. When her green eyes shot back at him he ducked his head slightly in submission to show her he had no aggressive intentions.
"You should probably be getting back on your side of the border before a patrol comes by." He watched her stare move once more away from the guarded offensive to mild curiosity and he felt his own nerves settle again.
"But you'll meet me again, won't you? This time we'll both stay on the right sides of the border though, yeah?"
Petalflight didn't affirm that she'd be open to meeting again but Pignut decided to assume as much anyway.
"Just before the next gathering, when the moon is one rise away from full. We can meet right here. I'll be waiting."
She lingered for a moment and Pignut hoped she'd say something, preferably affirmation that she'd be here, but she simply held his gaze for a moment longer then turned and disappeared back into the canopied Thunderclan territory.
Pignut lingered for a few heartbeats longer before turning and making his leisurely way back to camp, mulling over what had just happened. The clan rivalries never made much sense to him thus the borders even less so. Many of the clan's ways were strange to him, even having grown up among them so maybe that played into what had intrigued him so much about Petalflight. She had
chosen to enter their way of life though she seemed so naive to it all. It was perplexing and he found himself wanting to know more about her. He moved absently to his buried rabbit and dug it up to carry it back to camp.
Re: Thunderglade
