Backwritten The Rustclaws RC BLACKBERRIES IN THE COLD [ rc patrol ]

This thread occurred at a date previous to its posting date.
19
6
Freshkill
41
() the bright autumn sun lights their way as the patrol pads towards fourtrees. the willows and birch have been cloaked in gold and auburn, their leaves shivering in a subtle breeze. the tall grasses are golden, reeds trembling as they dry out. leaf-bare approaches, but before this, leaf-fall covers the world in its beauty. willowburn basks in the sky's glow, leafy gaze bright and alighting on her two apprentices, then the other members of her patrol. "beautiful day," she comments, whisking her tail up above her back as if to gesture to their surroundings. she breathes deep, filling her lungs until they threaten to burst before she sighs happily. thoughts of cold wind and harsh snow flit to the back of her mind, and she hopes her patrol members think similarly.

the walk is long but enjoyable, though certainly willowburn's paws ache by the time they reach fourtrees. the hollow lays empty, almost eerie in the daylight, when it is usually packed with multihued pelts, the moon soaring overhead. swallowing, the smoke tries not to remember the last time they'd graced this clearing, pikestar's blood staining adder's paws before the rogue had been exiled. "let's begin then," they order, tail whisking about as they begin to rub against the trees closest to riverclan territory. fourtrees central location means there's a chance they'll encounter any number of other clan patrols here, so the odd scent that reaches them does not concern them for a moment. after taking a beat to breathe, the warrior's head lifts, tall ears angling around. "we've got company," they murmur to their patrol, meeting lichentail's gaze. "non-clan."

it's almost shadowclan scent, but there's something more bitter, acrid. rogues, perhaps? although they've crept far into clan territory. beckoning their apprentices to them, willowburn knows hydrangeabloom and lichentail will look out for the two younger cats as well. "who's there?" they call, stance strong, back to their territory as they speak.


  • // " #87874b"
    The changing seasons have made the leaves in the great oaks over fourtrees all the more beautiful. As you lead your patrol here, you find yourself more entertained by the majesty of autumn than actually patrolling. It isn't until you've reached fourtrees that you realize you've encountered some cats from the Rustclaws.
    any rustclaws members are free to post! this is backwritten to october 9th. patrol members are @Hydrangeabloom, @lichentuft, @BEEPAW, @Crescentpaw
  • WILLOWBURN ⏾ tags / toyhouse

    genderfluid (she / they) / lesbian, mate of none
    35 moons old, ages realistically
    warrior of riverclan
    sibling to SMOKEWREATH
    adoptive mother to BLOOMKIT, RUMBLEKIT, CLOUDKIT, BUCKKIT
    mentoring CRESCENTPAW, BEEPAW / mentored by none
    penned by LAVS / message lavendes on discord for plots!

    a lithe black smoke feline with ghost striping and leaf green eyes. long smoky fur dashed through with grey and white adorns her frame, sliced across by darker stripes that frame her face and legs. eyes like sage, brilliantly green, gaze with an intelligent look. she is scarred across the bridge of her angular nose.
 
RUSTED METAL ──
rustclaws | cadet
Rust lurks within the cover of the nearby bushes, a small smirk forming on her face as she watches the RiverClan patrol with interest. She'd heard about the Clan cats and wanted to see some for herself - and she was in luck, for she'd managed to find a whole group of them. The tip of her tail twitches with excitement as her good eye drinks in the sight of it, one of the warriors picking up on her scent and warning the others.

How horribly boring it must be to live as a Clan cat. All those rules and customs to live by; Rust can't imagine it at all. She hardly wishes to follow the loose structure of the Rustclaws as it is, merely staying because she owes them for providing her a place for her eye to properly heal. She wonders if Nonna will chew her out for this once she gets back... oh well. Getting into trouble is practically all Rust knows how to do.
She waits a few moments more with bated breath, letting the Clan cats glance around with a nervousness that she finds to be delightful. Then, with one swift movement, she leaps forward from the bushes, yowling with fervor.
"Boo!!" she cries, baring her fangs with a vicious grin in the patrol's direction. Watching their reactions, she then bursts into laughter. "I woulda thought you holier-than-thou Clan cats would be more prepared for a scare like that. Guess you're nothin' but a bunch of scaredy-cats after all..." Even as she says this, her claws remain unsheathed, and her eye flits between each one of them as if waiting for the first one to pounce. It's clear that she's itching to get into some trouble - the fighting kind. Perhaps that's foolish of her, considering that she's outnumbered and also significantly younger than most of these other cats, but her overconfidence in herself far outweighs any sense she could've had to rethink her actions. This wouldn't be the first time she took on an opponent bigger than herself - that's where she'd gotten the gash over her eye from, a battle scar that she wears like a crown.
give me a fight i can't resist

  • ooc: shoo her away or fight her or interrogate her, she's just here to cause trouble and provoke the other cats :'3
  • "speaking" | thinking | action
 
Weathering this season is one of their least favorite... it is often a monsoon of rain and as they've discovered the rivers swell just as the ocean once had under poorer skies. Today is kind enough not to drench them in another temper tantrum of storm clouds. Willowburn describes it as a beautiful day but if Lichentuft were being honest, they'd much prefer the warmth of summer over this.... at least one could cool off in the river when things become sweltering... there was nothing to be done about chill but to collapse between Smokewreath and Hazecloud and hope they could muster up some warmth to share. The walk is long and uneventful... and perhaps there is beauty in that aspect of things, they are certain they will be home in time to share tongues and weed whatever garbage Juncopaw has got caught in her fur today when their patrol lead notices something they are too disinterested to pay attention to at first.

An odd scent... and not to just be attributed to the mingling of many clans that pass around this space like an open hunting ground.

The blue lynx point lets out a frustrated sigh, claws unsheathed in an over-prepared habit. She'd rather have her throat ripped out than be forced to listen to Hazecloud's lecture about not defending herself well enough out here... so when an unexpected face lunges out in front of them, it should be no surprise that the agitated molly lets out an unkind hiss and swipes in the young Rustclaw's direction. It's clear it is meant to be a hilarity they all laugh about, startling a patrol like that, but Lichentuft is less than amused.

"Your parents never teach you it's a bad idea to pick a fight you can't win? Go home before your tongue gets you into trouble."