Open Prompt Event Territory eat your heart out // boring patrol

[SABLESTAR]

the deputy has assigned your character a horribly boring patrol, how do they keep themselves entertained?

This must be some form of humor for Wolfpack, but it would be foolish to make a show of already cutting him down from his pedestal just for sending him on the most uneventful walk since they came here. The Barrens did not hold much activity outside of the occasional rustle of shrubbery, left out and exposed to the wind. There wasn't any cover for him to have any use in hunting, and with the lack of trees out here there was only overwhelming light and endless overcast to greet them.

In other words, the only living things out here was a bunch of cats with nothing to do but chase their own tails. "Anyone know a song? This quiet is awful out here." Sablestar twitched his ears to angle toward his patrolmates.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• // @Mothbite @Smogmaw. @fennelpaw @Hollowmist tagged those who asked but this thread is open to more ! "mew"
• 

  SABLESTAR— he/him ･fifty-four moons ･leader; shadowclan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[Smogmaw.]

Whereas Smogmaw usually found ways to busy his thoughts on quieter patrols, this trek has so far yielded him very little to work with. The Barrens make no false promises in its name, dry and depressing across all directions the eye can see. Just woefully underfed bushes and copious amounts of tree stumps jutting from the earth, broken by scraggly patches of grass. What a gorgeous landscape he finds himself in. If the tom's stolid strides carried him forward any more reluctantly, he'd be stood still by this point.

Still, there is an air of humour hovering in this vacant swathe of territory. Although his bristled fur and distasteful frown would suggest otherwise, the Night Guard gets an ironic kick out of his leader's displeasure. The taste of dreary assignments sure is bitter, and it's about time Sablestar got a good serving. When asked after a song, Smogmaw issues a muttering grunt in response. "None I think you'd 'preciate, but since you're asking..."

"♬ Oh me, oh my, I heard my leader cry,"

"♬ Oh me, oh my, I think I'm gonna die,"

"♬ Oh meee, oh my, I heard my leader say,"

"♬ I wish I'd never gone a-walkin' down this way."

His singing voice is surprisingly better than his usual tone of speech. It's still a fox-length below average, hoarse and lingering, unable to land on higher notes without strain. Comparatively speaking, though, there are much more grating sounds in the world.

 

[Joseph]

Sleep was rough, but it was safe. It beat laying in the openness of the forest hoping something hungry didn't find you, but all of this was still a sudden change of pace in a mere week. You had a home, then you ran across a forest for two days struggling to stay alive, and finally you bump into a colony of cats. Who are struggling to stay alive, together.
….Well… it beats doing it alone.

Joseph tried to present attentive and engaged in patrolling. He tailed Sablestar like he was a kit again; clinging to all he'd ever known. Suppose that wasn't entirely wrong. It was an overwhelming new way of life for a kittypet and the one showing you the ropes breathed this lifestyle like no other cat around.
To be honest, he was inspired by the tom. Saying that out loud felt really out of place, though. It felt…weak.
So Joseph kept it to himself. Used it as motivation to improve instead.

He'd seen some of the others here with him now. Mostly just a quick glance here or there before he'd look away anxiously, but Joseph learned Mothbite's presence. He was familiar like Sablestar, and soon the others should be too.
To think he could learn so many names and faces.

Anyone know a song?
His ears shifted and Joseph rose his eyes from his paws. The question rolled around in his head before shaking it with a confirming 'no.' The late priest listened to songs a lot, but he didn't know them. They were always so long and drawn out and…loud.


((i sat on this reply while eating dinner so I didn't see Smogmaw post oop-- my boy isnt accomplishing much atm anyway))

 

[Hollowmist's iconHollowmist]

♢Worried 'Bout The Future

Ain't Fuckin' With The Past♢

Hollowmist did not seem to mind the patrol in the barrens as much as its clanmates appeared to, it was a welcome change of pace to the chimera. There was a faint breeze that ruffled long white fur and they allowed a rare smile to cross their face. Even if there was nothing to be found out here it was better than the alternative. Shadowclan as a whole had had enough excitement for the next moon, it believed. It felt like everytime a patrol had come out- single good eye briefly glanced at Joseph beside them- another cat had returned with them.

An ear flicked towards their leader's question, casting a glance at its sister's mate. A song? Certainly. Hollowmist knew several songs. Singing around others that weren't family, however... Singing for the kits the other night had been a rare fluke. A step outside the cat's comfort zone that was unlikely to be repeated.

"No. I don't." Came the lie, smooth and easy on their lips. "Though Smogmaw seems eager to try his paw at it."

They snorted at the tabby's choice of song, giving a light shoulder bump in response. It had forgotten that Smogmaw did, on occasion, have a sense of humor.

Ain't Got No Time To Waste On Bullshit

♢

You Know I Gotta Keep My Head On Straight

• 
  Hollow
  — Thief of Shadowclan
  — It/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — A LH Black/Fawn Chimera W/ High White (LaPerm)
  #a7767c

 

[Lowlight]

☼ ✧

Lowlight is easily entertained--but even he has to admit this is a pretty boring excursion. Something about the silence hanging over the patrol, the slight awkwardness of cats not familiar enough with each other yet all trying to find something to say, is making the time drag unnaturally. He keeps finding himself fighting a yawn, and he's not the only one: Sablestar has been progressively wilting from sheer boredom as they walk. His query for a song is the plea of a desperate tom, and Smogmaw complies with uncharacteristic eagerness. Not all that shocking, considering the words of his song. Still…

"You have a really nice singing voice,"

Lowlight blurts out, baffled but smiling at the unexpected discovery. It's true: Smogmaw's hoarse voice brings a pleasant timbre to the song. He grins, playful:

"So that's how you charmed Halfshade, huh?"

Joseph and Hollowmist don't seem eager to join the chorus, though, and Lowlight doesn't think he knows any song either. His family's not the musical sort--they had other ways to keep themselves busy on long treks.

"I don't know any songs myself. I'd say we ought to play 'I spy', but…"

He gestures to their bare surroundings with his bushy tail and smiles wryly. Not much to spy around here.

"Maybe Smog should teach us something, huh? Or you,"

he adds, quirking his whiskers at Sablestar. Who knows, maybe their somber-faced leader charmed his mate with his singing as well.

✧ ° . ☼ . ° ✧

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  DUNNY — HE/HIM･ 32 MOONS ･ SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR ･ PENNED BY @Kangoo

  A solidly built flame point/red tabby chimera with golden eyes and a small nick across his lips.

 

[MIREPURR]

It is certainly an odd sight to behold; ShadowClan's mighty leader is conforming to the order given by his subordinate. Mirepurr wonders if Sablestar is starting to regret giving any ounce of authority to others... but, duty is duty, and even the most boring parts of the land must be looked after, or they may risk unwanted neighbors, like predators moving in or rivals pushing their luck. So far the patrol seems uneventful — it gives Mirepurr the perfect opportunity to rake their gaze across this bare field. It reminds them of the moors that sometimes peek out from behind trees on the horizon, except that place looks a lot more... alive. The grass is always greener on the other side, after all.

Mirepurr supposes it has its strengths though. There is barely anything to use as cover, but with the strong scents radiating from bird nests that have been abandoned in favor of a warmer climate elsewhere, but they know some mothers stick to their young until the very end. A grim thought for sure... but it will mean easy prey when the snow and the cold finally decide to leave.

Their whiskers twitch in equal amounts of surprise and amusement at Sablestar's request. A song? Sablestar must not like the silence that had befallen the group.

At least, Smogmaw takes it upon himself to save the others from having to erupt into tunes and lyrics. It is quite a soulful piece.

"That must have come from the heart,"

they compliment, grin stretching across their face. It's accurate, too, Mirepurr thinks, if their leader's previous expression is anything to go by.

It is a short little song though, and now the quiet is more unsettling than before; it demands someone else's voice to chime in.

Lowlight becomes the next savior, herding the subject onto something better — something that requires little to no input from anyone but Sablestar and Smogmaw. They nod in agreement.

"We can always learn a new thing or two."

 

[cicadabuzz]

CICADABUZZ, 27 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ black eyes
parent to deathberrykit, hemlockkit, mistletoekit
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment

Cicadabuzz would find little to say about such a patrol beyond its sheer inefficiency. Their mind does not wander toward boredom in the same way others' might; instead, they consider what time is being wasted, what herbs they could be gathering, what tasks could be completed instead of aimless walking across an empty land. The Barrens are aptly named, offering little in the way of plant life worth noting. A land of brittle shrubs and lifeless stumps, stripped of purpose. There is nothing here for Cicadabuzz, and yet these warriors seem determined to fill the silence with frivolous noise. A song? Cicadabuzz's ears flick at the suggestion, though they do not pause in their steps. The need to fill quiet with sound is a foreign concept to them. Silence is a companion, not an enemy, and they have spent enough time alone in the wild to understand that the world does not owe them entertainment. If anything, the silence should be welcome—an indication that nothing lurks nearby, that there is no danger to rouse the patrol from its mindless trek.

Smogmaw's voice is rough and jagged, the song lilting in a way that is not entirely unpleasant. Cicadabuzz listens, but they do not react. If the lyrics are meant as some dry attempt at humor, they do not care to acknowledge it. Their focus is on the wind that scrapes across the barren land, on the way it shifts against their fur, on the scents that are few and far between in this desolate stretch of territory. The patrol is uneasy, though they try to hide it behind idle conversation. Some, like Joseph, are quiet in a way that suggests discomfort rather than peace. Others, like Lowlight, are desperate to smooth over the stillness with chatter. Cicadabuzz does not understand this need. Silence is honest. It does not fill the air with false comfort, nor does it demand anything in return.

Still, they recognize that these cats are not like them. Warriors, bound to each other by something more than duty. Companionship, perhaps, or the strange camaraderie that grows in the face of hardship. Cicadabuzz does not begrudge them that, even if they do not share in it. They walk among them, a shadow on the outskirts of their warmth, observing but never stepping too close. When the song ends, they offer no opinion. Instead, their voice, soft but firm, breaks through whatever lingering laughter or commentary follows.

"If you have the energy for singing," they remark, "perhaps you have the energy to pay attention. Just because the land is empty does not mean the world is."

It is not a reprimand, merely a truth spoken plainly. Cicadabuzz does not believe in unnecessary warnings, nor do they seek to kill whatever meager enjoyment the patrol has managed to find. But distractions dull the senses, and a warrior who does not listen to their surroundings will not remain a warrior for long. With that, they fall silent once more, letting the patrol carry on as they will. Cicadabuzz does not need a song to pass the time. They are content with the quiet.