Open Border SkyClan TOWN CRIER ʚɞ pleading

[SWALLOWPAW]

admitting defeat isn't easy– but when your head begins to ache and your ideas have run out, there's no other choice. lionfoot hadn't prepared her for an injury like this one. this wasn't his fault, though, she doesn't blame him, you can't pick and choose when you plan on disappearing under mysterious circumstances.

swallowpaw weighed her options carefully. thunderclan's border was too far for consideration, so she stuck with the closest: windclan and riverclan.

windclan was the best option, the girl knew that, tensions didn't exist across the gorge but she didn't know who to even ask for. if she begged to see their medic, would they even show up? no, no... she had to stick with someone she'd already met.

when the trees begin to thin out near the river, swallowpaw stops. she awkwardly glances to the small patrol she gathered, three warriors with apprentices toddling at their heels. she doesn't expect things to get ugly, but just in case, she has some cats to hide behind.

"uh– uhm, hello– excuse me? would you mind getting jinglemoon, please? the skyclan medicine apprentice needs to uhm... talk to him. ...thank you." she calls out to the first patrol she sees, her voice stuttering, but the point comes across easily.

//any riverclanner can be the cat she's talking too

ʚɞ

 

[Frostmoth]

In his own way, the deputy too had had to accept his own defeat. Frostmoth still feels the fraught soreness of both his ego and his body from the heist on RiverClan territory. He pushes it away. Walks it off. Frostmoth doesn't need the help. He forfeited it when he went willingly away from his clanmates and lacked the ability to protect Jinglemoon when those monsters had broken into their medicine den and ravaged their stocks. He had been overwhelmed. Not just in numbers, but in experience. It was glaringly obvious. He was a far cry in age and knowledge from many of the ranks that had infiltrated their home, and they had paid a dire cost.

Frostmoth, in following hours and sunrises, has thrown himself completely into his duties. Never taking time for leisure or excitement. He tries not to ruminate on it, but every silent pawstep on a patrol or while doing a task thrums into the same morbid beat. It's one such routine patrol when the heavy scent of SkyClan hits his senses. They are close to the border, but it seems fresher than usual. And just as he suspects, there is a SkyClan patrol appearing to be waiting for them on the other side.

Here presents an opportunity for Frostmoth to temper his expectations of outsiders. SkyClan had been unkind, but not violent. Though Hawkstar had ensured that RiverClan was aware that she was not above drawing solid boundaries. This young cat- medicine cat apprentice, though he can neither confirm nor deny this as fact- is here with a small patrol. What once might have been an exciting chance to meet some of their neighbors is now met with leveled suspicion. He steps forward as the medicine cat apprentice has.

"One of the apprentices, go fetch Jinglemoon," he commands without looking at the patrol that trails behind him "The rest of us will remain here until he arrives." Frostmoth feels a touch of guilt wash over him for presuming that this clearly nervous molly would be capable of such deception, but he remembers too what that nervous ShadowClan apprentice had done to him before as well. And all they can do now is wait.

OH, MY GOD ★ MAKE ME IN YOUR IMAGE

• "SPEECH"
• ★ FROST — he/him, riverclan deputy, 20 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!

 

[cygnetscratch]

Cygnetscratch does not have an apprentice to command - she's hardly shed her own juvenile name herself. And yet, the recency of her ceremony still unfurls new feathers as she trots alongside the medicine apprentice and the other SkyClanners. Her gaze flutters at times, seeking out her former mentor on instinct alone. It is her lack of apprentice that keeps her chained to Swallowpaw, specifically; the other two warriors have apprentices to train, but the white furred molly has one to protect.

The stranger upon the other side of the border is met with a narrowed, disinterested stare. He sends an apprentice away with a cutting tongue and declares that the rest of the RiverClanners will remain here. They're worried we're lying. As if Fujimoto's pain and awkward angle of his leg is a farse. Cygnetscratch holds her tongue and remains ever still, tail twitching behind her. There's no use in spurring an argument, not when Swallowpaw needs help.