TW: Sensitive Content Closed ThunderClan RiverClan ShadowClan SkyClan WindClan 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ── .✦ 50th celebration

[DUSKPOOL]

DUSKPOOL​

He padded alongside Quailstep and Teaselfeather with Jawpaw and Sweetpaw in tow. His wooly plumage sweepin' the ground, likely collectin' who knows what within his wooly mane. The older warrior havin' stopped carrin' about the miscellaneous items he discovered diggin' into his flank late at night, jerkin' him from a none-too-kind nightmare.

Reckon he's been gettin' a lot of 'em since the gatherin'. The damn nightmares. He had hoped they'd go away, but nothin' lasts forever, now does it? Chuffin' lowly, Duskpool soldiered forward with a shadowy sweep of his ghostly build. His pawsteps heavy, sinkin' into the ground and leavin' footprints within their wake.

They'd be nearin' Fourtress now—a place he'd like to avoid, but life ain't kind to no one. And like most warriors, it was their duty to patrol all the borders, even if his skin prickled with the disastrous night that befell 'em all. With a grunt, Duskpool paused, mangled ears swivelin' toward the trees scattered about, brow raised, makin' note of a nearby RiverClan patrol, before settlin' his gaze to Jaypaw. "Careful now, ya hear?" He rumbled gruffly to the two.

we're only haunted by the things we refuse to accept

ooc

information

main ref

• @JAYPAW @Teaselfeather @Quailstep feel free to say duskpool followed them up the tree in your posts !
• 

  DUSKPOOL he/him a storm carved in flesh and smoke, duskpool towers with the bulk of a maine coon and norwegin forest cat. his wooly black pelt bristles with ghost-stripes and scars—old wounds etched like lightning through dusk. one copper eye burns like molten steel and the other a mangled ruin of war. every step is heavy, thunderous—war-born, death-burdened, and unflinchingly alive.
  
  ᯓ★ senior warrior of skyclan (sun guard during coffeestar's reign)
  ᯓ★ brother to outlawbite & thistlestrike, half-brother to flowercloud
  ᯓ★ eighty-three moons; ages on the 1st of every month
  ᯓ★ speech thought action
  ᯓ★ peaceful/healing powerplay permitted
• ​

 

[Quailstep Quailstep]

Quailstep was glad to get out of camp and stretch her legs, and accompanying Duskpool was simply an added benefit. Her respect for the older warrior was a quiet one, but it was present nonetheless. With Duskpool in the lead, she could feel confident in their patrol's ability to work smoothly together.
Fourtrees never ceased to impress her with its sheer size, and she gazed up at the branches as Duskpool warned the apprentices to be cautious. WindClan scent was on the wind, and while their Clan had no immediate hostilities with the moorland cats, caution was especially necessary nowadays.
They rubbed their fur on a stone at the edge of the border, weaving in and out of grasses to ensure the border was marked. A rote task, though an important one nonetheless.

 

[Teaselfeather Teaselfeather]

TEASELFEATHER

Over hill, over dale, through the valley and vale do not weep, do not wail, I am coming home to you

Teaselfeather moved like a shadow at the edge of the patrol, present, soft-footed, but always watchful. Their fur brushed low foliage as they passed, the earth cool and damp beneath their paws. Every few steps, their gaze flicked, first to the path ahead where the younger cats walked with Duskpool... When finally they arrived near the place of Fourtrees, they couldn't help the way their heart skipped a beat for a moment, praying no ThunderClanners would be nearby... And when the apprentices started climbing trees, their breath caught for the briefest second. But they knew that Crowpaw was strong. Quick. Sure-footed like their brother once was. Still, the quiet cat's tail twitched, betraying the storm of worry beneath their otherwise gentle, composed expression.

They glanced toward Duskpool and gave a quiet nod, eyes meeting only for a moment. You'll keep them safe, it said. Please, keep them safe.

Marking the border alongside Quailstep, Teaselfeather was content to linger at the back, their focus not on territory lines, but on the tender choreography of growth and learning unfolding among the apprentices. They couldn't protect Crowpaw from everything, no cat could. But they could be here, and sometimes, presence alone was its own kind of armor. As a leaf drifted down and landed on their nose, Teaselfeather gave a small, amused mrrp, nose twitching. Then, casting one last glance to the trees and the cats that clambered through them, they padded forward again, quietly.

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