Open Event Territory WindClan I'M COMING UP TO THE PARTY & I WANT MORE ✯ awkwarddd

[MAREMANE]

When she didn't want to be in camp, she walked. When she really didn't want to be in camp, she ran.

It was when the air whipped into her lungs, wind whistling into her ears, that she felt some spark of pure joy. Maremane looked forwards to her time on the open moors, finding her thoughts focused on the distance, her dream coming true.

Except, there was always WindClan to return to.

She couldn't let the tether around her legs stop her. Sometimes, she tried to retreat outside of herself, attempting to let her mind wander and become lost in a new place. Then, she wouldn't have to feel so guilty about leaving, having the desicion made for herself. But the act of it being a desicion, something purposeful, kept her in place.

Given the chance for a day to herself, Maremane traveled for hours. She slowed in the shade, the lovely burn in her legs fading, before she started again. Before long enough, the crinkle of the edge of the gorge was in sight. Pausing near it, she remembered the tortie and her company – SkyClan. If it was past the gorge, she would soon be near it.

She cut a different direction, not wanting to happen across any of them, or any other cat really. The sun was now at a peak in the sky, the pink glow of dawn left in her trail hours ago. Maremane's stomach protested, and far enough away from any of her clanmates, she bowed her head to the ground to taste for a scent trail, not intending to bring this catch back.

Her neck ached from the tracking before she picked up on a lead. Faint, but present. Maremane followed it tirelessly, until it was strong enough for her sight to raise, scanning for the rodent in the shorter grass. Fat on spring graces, the vole distractedly bothered at some open roots. She licked her lips, thanking fate for the find.

Impatiently, she cleaned the blood off her teeth a few minutes later. Nothing was moving in her periphery, except for the sway of an environment that had metamorphosized from the tallgrass to something more humid. Deciding to eat swiftly, she let her guard down, devouring the vole.

// she is here... on da riverclan property ... open to any riverclan and maybe if u want a windclan cat couldve followed her...
uhm idk if borders r real yet but she is close enough for ppl to be like who tf are you

 

[PIKESTAR]

The leader decided to pad along Skyclan's border, not close enough to cause Hawkstar to shred his fur. We are not friends and I'm not dumb enough to start a fight with a clan who has more experience than us. Still, it would make things easier if Hawkstar and I could just talk about the future. With the other clans... Thunder and Shadow, we've got to figure out how all of us go from here. Unless we all go to war, which is something I'd rather not have. Unfortunately, no one from Skyclan decides to go near. He tries not to be disheartened by it, considering this means that Skyclan has kept their word just as Riverclan has kept theirs.

The silver tabby finds himself wandering before the scent of blood reaches his nose. Alarm causes him to race to the source, stopping when green eyes land on a strange molly eating a mole.

"Oh. Phew. "

If she hadn't noticed him before she would now. He would stare albeit a bit too strongly for the stranger's liking. She isn't any Riverclanner definitely. This isn't like Oleander or Halesia. She doesn't smell like Thunderclan or Skyclan. Frostmoth told me about Shadowclan... But I don't think they'd come back so soon?

Awkwardly he would clear his throat,

"U-u-uhhmm, are you from Shadowclan?"

If he was a certain leader, he would sent Adderfang to tear this cat from limb to limb. Or even start a war, but this was just one cat so far. It could also just be a loner traveling around. In any case, this cat was no threat.

"My name is Pikestar. You're near Riverclan's border."

It still feels weird saying, but the other clans really are touchy about their own turf. I'm not super touchy about it, but Russetfall and the others got on my case about it. I guess it makes sense. We don't want them to uhh... Wipe their paws all over us like Pigeonpearl said.

"Oh! I'm not gonna start a fight or anything like that. As long as you stay on that side, then we won't have a problem. Hmmm... Are you part of Skyclan or Thunderclan? Hawkstar would be really upset if you're this close, and Juniperstar while nice... Prefers her cats to stay close to her territory."

While it is highly unlikely for the molly to be part of Thunder or Sky, there was a possibility that these were cats who were new to their group. In that case, if this was some Skyclanner who was unaware of the rules then he wouldn't punish them for it. Skyclan cats have more presence then this though....

 

[MAREMANE]

Maremane's head snapped up, instinctual thrashing of her heart ensuing. Caught off guard, she straightened, drawing herself to her towering height. The display of power was skewed by the blood plastered to her lips, the unseriousness of being found during her lunch eclipsing her sudden shift.

She stared at the tom as he spoke, uncaring what it made her look like. Searching for some kind of aggression, and finding it only in her reflection in his eyes, the long hair on her neck laid flat. Maremane's initial shock wore off into puzzlement as the tabby listed her options of origin, spouting words ending with -clan, but none were the one bestowed upon them by their leader and her dead friends.

"RiverClan?" the molly breathed, head notching. Suddenly, this land did not seem so beautifully lonely. Her claws flexed, front legs twitching as if there was an electrical line between them she needed to draw away from.

Hawkstar is the one familiar name, the regal tortie she had seen across the gorge. She had in common with Dustystar some quality Maremane couldn't assign an adjective to – authoritative, even when she knew her grey-pelted superior had uncertainty swirling in her eyes. Her brow slanted. Neither of them seemed like the type to stand here, awkwardly staring at a cat and her meal.

Yet, he had introduced himself as Pikestar. It was just her luck she happened across not only yet another clan, but the leader of it.

She offered, "None of those. I'm from WindClan."

"I didn't mean to come so close." An admittance, lacking an apology as she often did. As much as her muscles screamed at her to run, she knew she needed to cover her ass expeditiously. "I didn't know there was anyone living over here."

She shrugged. Unpeeling her sight from Pikestar, she studied the vole between her paws. Again, Maremane didn't offer her name, withholding as she did as her friendly clanmates yelled theirs over the gorge. He had predictions of how other leaders would react to their warriors hunting and eating near another clan's border, and neither were so positive – she didn't want Pikestar's first words to Dustystar being how she found this place out.

 

[Frostmoth]

A strange scent comes over Frostmoth's senses. It's unlike the mire of ShadowClan, the woody smell of ThunderClan, nor the pine-scent of SkyClan. It's a grassy smell, almost layered with freshly dug-up mud. The deputy pursues the strange scent, and sooner than he realizes he finds the source somewhat distant from camp. A good sign. He is relieved that Pikestar has beaten him here. He's unsure how he would head an interaction with a stranger from an unknown clan on his own... Of course, that's something he should probably put some thought into sooner rather than later.

"WindClan..." Frostmoth echoes stupidly. He looks over the molly's shoulder for a long moment, searching the area behind her. It had only been a few sunrises ago that Frostmoth had encountered the ShadowClan patrol. Though it had been a mostly neutral experience- albeit shocking given the demeanor of one of their apprentices- it made the deputy aware that RiverClan and their immediate neighbors were not the only groups in the area. Still, the fact that this stranger isn't from ThunderClan or SkyClan means that she isn't from the immediate area, which prompts Frostmoth to ask: "Did you come from far to get here...?"

He eyes the remains of the vole Maremane has devoured, but chooses not to say anything about it. Fish are more his and his clanmates' speed anyhow.

OH, MY GOD ★ MAKE ME IN YOUR IMAGE

• "SPEECH"
• ★ FROST — he/him, riverclan deputy, 17 moons
  — penned by carat, feel free to ping or dm for plots!
  — longhair black and white bicolor with blue eyes
  — peaceful powerplay ok! all interactions ok!
  
• penned by carat!