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Milknose (he/him)
Windclan ❍ 16 moons Creamy-white fluffy fur and green eyes. Chunky face!
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Border patrol. Milknose would have rather gone hunting than mark their borders under the scorching sun, but at least some of the trees in Riverclan would provide them shade as they trekked there. This terrible heat wasn't good for his throat; he had to drink constantly, or his mouth became super dry and his throat sore and rasping. He hoped to find some water along the way, or he wouldn't be able to talk much but rather cough a lot.
He sat down and dipped his head to Fallownose, waiting patiently for Mothflower, Swiftheart, and Owlpaw. At least, four cats would make quick work, right? He really didn't want to stay out in the sun for too long.
x ghostie is haunting this signature
Bean's favorite staff member Lillian was here
lio sneezed here (achoo)
you see crude graffiti... it spells "velli wuz here"
Rose caught the sickness (oh dear)
fenrir stares at rose with a spray bottle of water in hand
My Soul is in @/Ian's basement with some ice cream
Heck yeah! Owlpaw was super excited to go on his first border patrol!
It had been raining quite a lot recently, and Owlpaw remembered that a river lined the border between the two clans. He'd have to be careful not to slip into it like at Twilight Falls. Owlpaw sat next to Milknose and waited for the rest of his patrol mates to show up.
╔════════ ════════╗ Mentions:
@RedLeif
@lio
@Wingnettle
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Image of my oc was created using Clangen Cat Maker
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"If I had more time, I would have written a shorter post~"
Ah, yet another patrol.. No biggie. No biggie at all! Just gotta mark the borders with Shadowclan, and if they have time, maybe she’ll catch something to bring back to the clan, too. She could worry about that later, though, Right now she had to find Bravelion and Frostpaw! Once she spotted Bravelion, she padded over. “Heyo!” She chirped, cheerful as ever, before she sat down near her patrol leader.
Usually, Twistedpaw didn't groom herself. Navigating her tongue around her crooked, swinging jaw took too much effort. Her face kept scraping against her bony tail, too. Overall, it was an unpleasant affair and not something the apprentice had much experience with. Her lack of hygiene was no secret; any cat who glanced her way could see how matted and messy her pelt was. The occasional smear of dirt or speck of grass, blending brown or gleaming green, appeared among the tangled black peaks. Hardly anyone commented on her pelt, so Twistedpaw found no reason to start grooming it. She'd gotten used to the way it looked and felt, grown to ignore the occasional prick of a gorse thorn that got caught in her fur.
But the past few days had made her reconsider. Bright, sunny skies had transformed into thick, dark clouds that bombarded the WindClan cats with rain. The grassy clearing had transformed into opaque sludge. It clung to paws, pelts, anything its slimy fingers touched. The dens had been invaded, too. Mud and water leaked into the apprentices' den at night, plaguing the soft nests. Twistedpaw's little corner, all the way back in the deepest shadows, was safe. But when she left the den... She was anything but.
She stayed inside more than the other apprentices, but she still ventured out enough for her paws to get coated and her pelt to be splattered by the dark brown slush. It tracked into her nest, too, which hadn't been changed in StarClan knew how long. That meant Twistedpaw slept in it every night. Thank StarClan every cat's dirty, or Batglare wouldn't be happy! She respected her mentor and wanted to appease him, but there were some aspects of her life she couldn't change.
Some things she couldn't be perfect at because she'd emerged into this world broken and twisted.
The small black she-cat pushed the thought away. Sitting in her old, wet, smelly corner of the apprentices' den, she attempted to groom herself. Her crooked jaw lolled, thumping against her chest as she craned her neck and stretched her tongue to eradicate some of the mud caked on her chest near the junction of her shoulder. Drool slid down the side of her mouth. It was not comfortable. Or easy. Twistedpaw's mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. Almost... there...
Someone called her name.
Twistedpaw froze midlick, her tongue hanging. Quickly, she gathered her wits. Swiping the drool from her mouth, the apprentice hurried out of the den, careful not to touch her denmates' nests. The last thing she wanted to do was make them unhappy, uncomfortable, or mad at her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine as she emerged from the dugout beneath the gorse bush. Immediately, her paws hit mud, splattering it along her legs and underside. Twistedpaw flinched and prayed none of her Clanmates were looking. Who called me? she wondered, looking around and thanking StarClan that it wasn't raining. If it had been, she might've missed whoever called her or been unable to see. Is it Batglare? Yet there was no sign of the massive senior warrior.
Even with only one working eye, it didn't take her long to spot Fallownose. The tall slate-gray tom was standing in the center of the clearing, gathering patrols. Twistedpaw's blood ran cold, and it wasn't because seeing the WindClan deputy reminded her of how he'd tackled and clawed Willowsky. She'd gotten over that... mostly. No, it was because she was to go on a patrol. Even though she was four moons into her apprenticeship, Twistedpaw had never been on one. She'd always stuck to training with Batglare and hiding in the apprentices' den or a corner of camp when they were done. A chill colder than leaf-bare weather sluiced through her, worse than the sticky, slimy mud. Going on patrol meant meeting Clanmates she didn't know.
Clanmates who knew what she'd done, who hated her for her deformities, who thought she was an embarrassment, a waste... A burden. Someone who would slow them down.
Her paws began to tremble.
Even worse, Twistedpaw didn't know who she was going with. She'd only heard her name and "Sky Glade." That was it. The thought of going anywhere near ShadowClan territory made her nerves even worse. What if they met a ShadowClan patrol? The conflict between the two Clans was over, but she'd heard of how bloodthirsty they were. And Batglare hasn't taught me how to fight yet! With the delays in her apprenticeship and the time it took to learn due to her deformities, he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Twistedpaw took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in her heart. Featherbrain! You should've been out here, listening to Fallownose call the patrols. She made a mental note to keep her ears out for the deputy whenever it was time for patrols and she was in camp. She didn't know exactly when they were sent out all the time, of course, but she could guess the general period when they needed to be dispatched.
But now she was stuck outside with no idea who she was supposed to be with. Surely my patrolmates will know... Twistedpaw hoped so.
However, to meet with them, she had to stand in the middle of the clearing, her hideous, pathetic figure out for all to see. Already, she could feel their eyes boring into her pelt, hear their thoughts as they judged her... The skinny she-cat shrank beneath her matted, muddy pelt, lowering her mismatched gaze. Heat stained her cheeks, and the bulging light gray tip of her mangled tail twitched self-consciously. Please find me soon... What would they think of her, though?
Was she going with someone she knew? Batglare, Brightpaw, Mousefern, Leechscar, Dreamlight, Fireflame, Twilightstar, Wolffang, Leopardsong... She'd be fine with any of them. But if it was someone else, only StarClan knew what lay in wait for her.
@Starfall @x ghostie (Apologies for the long post! I went into it thinking, "Hey, it won't be that long. I'll just let it flow and go over these points/ideas I want to cover," and uhh... It's over 1,000 words. Whoops.)
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Some of my characters think or act in ways I disagree with. Please understand that I do not support or condone these thoughts or actions.
True to their clan's name, her fellow patrolmates were quick as the wind. Purring a greeting, the former queen turned an expectant glance towards Moonwhisker, a polite smile twitching her whiskers. "It appears we are all here. Shall we march on, then? With proper diligence we will hopefully not have to deal with any brutish ThunderClanners in this foul weather," Dapplebreeze mewed, raising herself to her paws as she awaited Moonwhisker's instructions.
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Milknose (he/him)
Windclan ❍ 16 moons Creamy-white fluffy fur and green eyes. Chunky face!
╰──────»»❀❀❀««──── ──╯
Border patrol. Milknose would have rather gone hunting than mark their borders under the scorching sun, but at least some of the trees in Riverclan would provide them shade as they trekked there. This terrible heat wasn't good for his throat; he had to drink constantly, or his mouth became super dry and his throat sore and rasping. He hoped to find some water along the way, or he wouldn't be able to talk much but rather cough a lot.
He sat down and dipped his head to Fallownose, waiting patiently for Mothflower, Swiftheart, and Owlpaw. At least, four cats would make quick work, right? He really didn't want to stay out in the sun for too long.
Heck yeah! Owlpaw was super excited to go on his first border patrol!
It had been raining quite a lot recently, and Owlpaw remembered that a river lined the border between the two clans. He'd have to be careful not to slip into it like at Twilight Falls. Owlpaw sat next to Milknose and waited for the rest of his patrol mates to show up.
╔════════ ════════╗ Mentions:
@RedLeif
@lio
@Wingnettle
╚════════ ════════╝
Image of my oc was created using Clangen Cat Maker
Swiftheart shook dust and dirt and whatever else from his pelt and made his way over to where two of his patrol mates had already gathered. Good, that meant they were waiting for just Mothflower. "Alright people? Good to go?" He flashed a toothy smile at the other cats then peered around the clearing for their missing warrior. He didn't want to leave without them and risk getting them into trouble, but he couldn't hang around all day. Need of the many, and all. He started counting down under his breath. If he got down to zero, they would have to leave without them.
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Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch