PAFP Territory Searching for a Gourmet Prize | Shadow Hunting Patrol?!

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This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.

Jadethorn's greeting is met with a small curve of his lip in displeasure. Knowing that she was at the head of it all, gallivanting around with children at her tail in some weak presentation of ShadowClan's strength. Half of them had ThunderClan blood on their paws, and undoubtedly Juniperatar had lamented over his fatal action against Thornstar for them all to know- a detail he was comfortable to continue lying to his own Clan. They may speculate and decide on whatever truth they wished, it wasn't a kill he would openly claim and let these ThunderClanners hold over his head. They would have if it was him or a struck of lightning.

He disregarded Jadethorn only to hear, and quickly see, Thunderflash lunge for him. Fleakit and Sealpaw be damned, were these little warriors willing to draw blood first? Sablestar's mind fell back to the day Lynx had taken upon themself to attack him while alone in the name of Hawthorne. Hypocrites they were, far more bloodthirsty but acting as though his Clan was only capable of harm. Earth-toned pelts clash before him in another blink- Jade had the sense returned to her and put to work her redemption already. Flinging herself into Thunder's way and keeping a distance between them. Sablestar hadn't moved (he hadn't been given the chance), and he only spared a twitching ear and a scoff in response to the attempt.

"Thank you for sparing yourselves further embarrassment." Sablestar mused with a pointed look to his attempted assailant before resting on Brightpetal's gaze. "Of course, we'll revisit this half-moon deal." If ShadowClan could fight for it again, there would be little stopping them. "Goodbye, ThunderClan. We'll see you again soon." Sablestar thudded his tail against the ground in even beats until the others disappear behind the brush, and the fire returned his eyes as he sought Jadethorn again.

"Don't expect to even breathe near this place for the next moon. Round up your little posse and get back to camp." The leader growled as he stalked back to meet them there.

  • "mew"
  • 93443617_Wtqxz1yqB0cjEgA.png
    SABLESTAR— he/him ・fifty-four moons ・leader; shadowclan ・penned by gonkpilled
    a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes
 
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———— I awaken with the thunder, a bold statement to end my slumber. ✦


Froststorm watched, a rage bubbling in his chest, listening to this pathetic back and forth between the sorry excuses for Shadowclan cats and those snivelling Thunderclan cats. A low, crackled growl rolled from the pits of his throat. Fleecefur had promised that these, these fools were their champions? These softie little kittens were the cats destined to follow the legacy of the dark forest. If they had any sense, they would have ripped the throats from these Thunderclan cats the moment they dared to speak back to the patrol. Words will never solve a feud written in the blood of their kin and ancestors. He dragged frostbitten paws through the grass as he thudded paw after heavy paw towards the argument, a snarl upon his face. "Cowards." The tom snarled, his eyes slits as they darted between the kit patrol and the softpawed Thunderclan cats. There was some messy-looking red tabby speaking high and mighty of himself and his clan, 'Things never change with those cowards in the stars...' claws unsheathed, if it weren't for his ghostly nature he would have ripped a claw clean through this bumbling fool, he was sick of this bullshit and already hope had left him for his clan to do anything themselves.

They seemed far too buddy-buddy; they knew each other well, the big chocolate tabby that the wimpy apprentice tried to foolishly give up prey to called her by name. An anger bubbled in his chest, seeing this snivelling brat cower. Though as if someone finally got the memo - a she-cat, pelt speckled in rosettes, one Froststorm noticed amidst the crowd but didn't pay much mind to - as her voice rose above the hubbub of the other cats, reaming out the apprentice for her ridiculous behaviour. "FINALLY." His voice dripped venom as a cackle leaked from the back of his throat, hoarse and crackling. His head bowed as he did, water dripping from his lips; he could never dislodge it all from his lungs, his burden to carry for as long as his spirit remained.

Though his attention was caught again, a new voice cutting through the clearing, commanding yet calm. The spirit rose his head, licking away the water that still dripped from between his teeth. Could this be... Froststorm's eyes crinkled with a sickening grin. "Dear Sable." He padded forward. "Sablestar. Our champion." Maybe Froststorm was too fast to judge; apprentices still had much to learn, but between Sablestar, the rosette-laced she-cat, and that spitfire little one, maybe it wasn't hopeless. What could have been a purr once emerged from the back of his throat, and suddenly, the tables seemed to turn. The Shadowclan leader's presence commanded not just his clan but those pathetic Thunderclan cats. He couldn't help but grin at the accusation of a leader killing another leader. 'Already?' he hummed, that smile now knit onto his face as he circled the group of cats. He revealed in the tension, this wasn't an argument, it was a fight just waiting to happen. What Froststorm didn't expect was that chocolate tabby - Thunderflash, rather ironic of a name he mused - launched himself at Sablestar. Though he laughed darkly, watching as the clan cats, loyal to their leader, stopped that dead in its tracks, Sablestar unscathed and could see that almost smug look in the tom's eyes.

However, as much as Froststorm wanted to revel in the glory of the new leader of his dearest clan, his attention was again caught by that little cinnamon thing. She was clearly too young to be there, and other cats commented. "Fleakit?" He breathed, watching the little thing launch herself headfirst into a fight she would never be able to win against a cat far larger than her. The name seemed cruel, her pelt not clean or maintained like the other youngsters there, folded ears hanging limply as she was pressed into the ground with a paw to the face by the Thunderclan cat she decided to launch an attack against. Even then, pinned in a fight she could never win, she spat rage and profanity at the cat; there was something in her eyes. Something familiar. A pain, a desperation, a rage. His dear apprentice Deadwood was much like her when he first took the poor thing under his wing. There was something more that bubbled beneath the surface; she needed a guiding paw to help her thrive.

"You'll be something incredible, Flea." He purred, already set in his decision. "I'll be sure of it."

Like a flash, the whiney little grey apprentice, Sealpaw, launched herself at the warrior, sending them flying and scooping up Fleakit, much to the little spitfire's chagrin. He grinned, she was going to be a force to be reckoned with someday, though she seemed deadset she already was. And perhaps that little Sealpaw wasn't as pathetic as he first deemed naive? Yes, but that can resolved with proper training. He looked at the fighting, the flying claws, teeth, and rage, and Froststorm knew then that his clan was destined for something great. He'd thought too little of his kin, but now? Well, the rest of the clans should be prepared. The tom was ready to turn and follow Sealpaw and Fleakit from the fight to ensure the pair didn't end up tailed, but he faltered when he heard that pansy of a red tom speak again.

"They gave up?" He looked over his shoulder; if his tail had survived, it would have been whipping from the sheer surprise. These cowards forfitted their length of territory like that? Oh, these poor fools, they have no idea what they've set in motion. If one measly little scuffle with some apprentices were enough for these Thunderclan cats to go running with tails tucked between their legs, Shadowclan would have no issue claiming more and more territory for their own.... Froststorm let out a shaky laugh, his body began to ache, he'd been here for far too long, his spirit couldn't sustain itself for very long out here. But this was no trip wasted. He looked to Sablestar, a warm smile upon his face, not something cruel, but something proud. Fleecefur had chosen correctly; he was certain of that now.

With an aching form but having left this place with more than he sought, Froststorm stalked back to the underbrush, prepared to return to the dark forest to bring the good news to Deadwood and the others and begin his plan.

  • ooc - baiii shadowclan froststorm is proud of you guys <3
  • Froststorm
    ✦— Dark forest warrior
    ✦— He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦— A skinny, grey speckled cat with amber eyes and various frostbitten wounds.
    #CD807A