Larkwing
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25 moons || she/her || RiverClan Warrior || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Beefed Up T2 scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes
All Larkwing wants to do is get out of here. Her border's been marked, she's done more than would usually be necessary, all that's left to do was go home, if they could even find a place to hold that title again.
After thoroughly covering the tree she was marking in her scent, she moved onto the next one. And then the next one. Occasionally she would slice her claws across a tree with a patch of exposed wood; another reminder to ThunderClan that they were back and ready to defend their home if necessary. It took her longer than it normally would- usually she wasn't trying to make a point of drenching the border in RiverClan's scent- but eventually she was done. Between the three of them, their clan's fishy smell had overpowered ThunderClan's reek. Good.
With Lotuspaw finally in tow, Mountaintalon followed the others out.
"...Smells like RiverClan," he growled as they approached. "Looks like they're back. Lotuspaw, with me." As much as he'd like to get his claws bloody today, he wasn't interested in putting his apprentice on the line for it.
"I don't know what your previous mentor taught you, but in case you haven't been out hunting yet, watch." Once he was a good ways away from the others, Mountaintalon dropped into a balanced crouch. "Keep your weight spread even, don't stick your feet out like a deer that's broken all its legs. Then push all that weight into your haunches and use it to propel yourself forward."
He did exactly that, and his paws landed him on a large mouse, crushing its spine instantly. He stood up and glanced back at Lotuspaw. "Your turn."
Larkwing
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25 moons || she/her || RiverClan Warrior || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Beefed Up T2 scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes
All Larkwing wants to do is get out of here. Her border's been marked, she's done more than would usually be necessary, all that's left to do was go home, if they could even find a place to hold that title again.
After thoroughly covering the tree she was marking in her scent, she moved onto the next one. And then the next one. Occasionally she would slice her claws across a tree with a patch of exposed wood; another reminder to ThunderClan that they were back and ready to defend their home if necessary. It took her longer than it normally would- usually she wasn't trying to make a point of drenching the border in RiverClan's scent- but eventually she was done. Between the three of them, their clan's fishy smell had overpowered ThunderClan's reek. Good.
`~Owltalon
She, Her\Lionheart\44 moons\Riverclan
"Are you listening, starchild?"
Purrks: Agatha Kitty [ACTIVE]
- - -
The Lionheart nodded encouragingly to her clanmates before allowing herself a good stretch. That wasn't before something familiar caught her nose. Thunderclan. It wasn't a shocker to see the cats on their side of the border, but it certainly gave her a kick of adrenaline. The bulky she-cat found herself staring at the other group of cats, taking in their features. It had only been two moons yet it felt like she'd been gone for a year, the scent of any rival clans seemed so odd since her nose had gotten used to the weathered scent of mountain rock and moss. She simply blinked at the other cats, cracking a smile at their snarky remarks.
Just as she was about to open her maw and call the patrol back to camp, her amber eyes slid over to strange movement in the river nearby. The Lionheart slowly closed her maw, angling her ears towards the noise. Sleek and wet bodies peeked in and out of the water. They seemed to be playing with something. Otters? Excitement trembled through her paws though she pushed back her smile. Yes, she was very hopeful that she'd be able to kill one just for the fun of it, but right now she couldn't think of that. There was a threat that came with otters, all the clans were aware of that.
Owltalon squared her expression and gave a jittery flick of her tail. "Good job, chaps! All seems ta be in o'der, we're headin' back." And with that last mew of acknowledgement, the brown she-cat stalked away with her patrol mates (hopefully) at her tail.
__________________
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-When You Grow Up, Your Heat Dies
Re: Smallpines
