Event SkyClan up on the mountain, the sea down below / skyclan patrol

[Hawkstar]

LEADER OF SKYCLAN

.

Hawkstar, if they were anything at all, was a creature of habit. She liked all of her clanmates neatly ordered, precisely counted, and within her scope of mind. She liked her fresh-kill pile stocked and correctly sorted into gamey, feathered, and scaled (one could notice that Hawkstar did not have a category that neatly included frogs, and that was because she did not like frogs in the least. Therefore, they would never have a place in her fresh-kill pile. Easy! Neat! Ordered!

However, the business of moving her clan from one end of the earth to the other meant that "neat" and "orderly" had been thrown .... well, not even "out the window", but off a cliff into a fiery ravine. She had hoped for some level of tact and class in this mess, but ... but of course, she had been a fool to believe that StarClan would allow anything to be so simple, so ... familiar.

Of course, it was the familiar that would bother her the most now, she thought bitterly as her patrol alighted against the edge of a canyon, its great maw opened to greet an unsuspecting cat who looked with their eyes across the moors beyond, instead of their feet.

"Hold back," the painted king called back to her clanmates, the greedy gurgling of the river below accentuating the hard consonants of her command. "It's a near tree-length drop straight to the rapids. A clear border, and a warning," as if the great kings of old - the leaders of LionClan and TigerClan alike - had scored the earth with one massive claw, marking the physical distance between themselves some centuries before.

"Fan out. I want to see how far this goes in either direction. More than seven tree-lengths and I'll consider this sufficient guard enough." She flicks her tail, decisive, kingly, ordered, as was the natural way of things. As it should be.

/ up to FIVE other skyclanners allowed in this thread ! windclanners go crazy go stupid c: this will contribute to the STARS ALIGN SkyClan / WindClan requirements !!

pointed torbie

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64 moons

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she / they

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bio

 

[stormcrow]

Stormcrow was following in the footsteps of her king, head on a swivel, suspicious of every bush and shadow. She was, as a rule, always more alert when she patrolled with Hawkstar– and this urge had worsened after her run in with the dog. She doesn't want any harm to come to Hawkstar… to her leader… and she would be more than happy to throw herself at another dog, should the need arise.

She comes to a stop as Hawkstar does, eyeing the edge of the cliff. "I'll have to warn my mother not to come this way," she says, thinking back to the walk she'd taken with Snowveil just a few days after their arrival– her mother was getting more used to the territory to be sure, but this was a risk too great. "I'll advise her to warn the bairns and their caretakers of this place too." She looks at Hawkstar as they give out directions and nod, before bowing her head for a moment, as if in submission to her king– her leader. "As you wish– I'll go right."

And with that, she takes off towards the south east.

I NEED MY GOLDEN CROWN OF SORROW

MY BLOODY SWORD TO SWING

• ooc: -
• 

  Stromcrow, - 42 moons / Skyclan warrior/scout
  Daughter of Snowveil, temporary mentor of Teaselpaw
  Strict, devoted, rational. Peaceful powerplay allowed.

  
  

 

[Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

With paws healed, though still tender from the burns, Merrystalk was restless as always. He longed to see every last inch of this place, the moors where he'd wandered down to hunt when food was needed in the barn, they were part of his home now. Though there was an area he'd caught a glimpse of once and was apprehensive of, to admit. Well, for a cat who slept up the hayloft of his barn home, Merrystalk found great highs nauseating. So one look at the gorge was enough to have sent his paws wobbly. Even now, with other Windclan warriors not far from him, the tom kept himself plenty away from the gorge, he didn't trust it, even if it was a great gash in the earth. Not like it could reach out a claw from gaping maw to drag him to his demise.

... But he still wansn't going to risk it.

Instead, he hummed himself a merry little tune, plucking some fresh, wild rye. He wasn't savvy with plants but he knew a good one to nip on while wandering, kept his mind a little busier than mind wandering back to the gorge at his right, the sound of rushing water muffled. But with that hum of a tune in his mind, it was enough to keep him distracted. Perhaps though there would be a rabbit's warren near here? Wouldn't hurt to come back with a little extra food, see if Owlbear wanted something extra with the kittens taking up all her energy while they grew. Merry sniffed about, trying to pinpoint anything interesting. The wind whistled past, to which he couldn't help but smile and bask in it, for just a moment. Even if he could never seem to hear what the wind had to say, just a light bristle reminded him of Harefoot and that was enough for him. Though...

Merrystalk's fur bristled, but realising the scent of an unfamiliar cat hung in the air. Like a warning... He scouted the area quickly, eyes scanning the land on his side of the gorge, before flicking - tentatively - past the gaping maw to notice another cat not far off. The source of that new scent in the air, grey pelt stark against the fresh grass of new leaf, though the stark red marking on their chest made his blood run cold. They weren't injured, that was for sure. For a moment, he simply stood there, blinking. He knew there were other cats near the moors, but to run into one was a surprise, to say the least, let alone with such a... stark appearance. But Goldy- Goldenroar. 'Damn that's weird still...' He thought, before shaking his head. His family taught him well to treat anyone with kindness.

"Well hey there stranger, ain't run into any y'all from the other side the gorge!" His voice was warm. They may not have been from the barn but they were a fellow cat too living off the land, no need for hostility off the bat. "Name's Merrystalk, pleasure to meet ya'."

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• addressing @stormcrow directly, but anyone can interject!!
• 
  Merry
  ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 26 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[GOLDENROAR]

Each day was something new. Most recently, it was his name as they settled into this new.. 'clan' structure that Dustystar had introduced them to. Goldenroar. Well, he quite liked it, if he had to say so himself. Fancied it, even- Goldy was something softer, like the fish in the tank before they were dumped, a very twoleg-given name. Goldenroar? That was something like the kings of old, tales that his mother had barely whispered to him before she passed away. He swallowed gently at the thought of her, walking not far behind Merry- Merrystalk.

That was less about his brother's movements, and more about the waving things in the distance. He does feel a hint bad. A majority of the clan had gotten some short sticks with names, like Dustystar had been squinting at the horizon when she drew names for their new structure. The clan. That was a new concept too, he thinks to himself. The structure of warrior and apprentice and caretaker and- Goldenroar takes a breathe to settle himself, ears twitching as he follows his brother. The sound of swift moving water became more and more obvious, aqua eyes shifting beyond his brother's figure towards where the land seemed to crumble and sway then suddenly drop.

Goldenroar frowned as he drew shoulder to shoulder with Merrystalk, vision shifting across the gorge to strangers. His eyebrows twitch, ears lowering slowly as he considered. Merrystalk was doing what he had imparted on his brother- kindness- but he had a strange feeling. They looked organized, one cat departing from the group after dipping their head towards a striking figure. Aqua eyes watch that one go, the one with the bright red chest, then flick back towards the group still standing there. "Name's Goldenroar." He calls. "Who are you folk?" Goldenroar urges, ears perking back forward as he listened for an answer.

_______________________ I KEEP RUNNIN' BUT ☼ I'M STANDING STILL _______________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• GOLDENROAR he/him, windclanner, thirty six moons.
  ☆ a lh golden red marbled tabby with low white and glimmering aqua eyes. often seen with a smirk, confidence oozing from him in heaps, but always the ever-helpful guy.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ older brother to merry
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

/code]

 

[REDVEIL]

The moors were awfully pretty today, if not a little mysterious to the former kittypet.

Its yawning landscape felt impossibly vast compared to the tiny world he'd known before. Even more so than the barn which had felt like a small oasis. Redveil limped haphazardly after the two siblings while they treked ahead. Unsurprisingly, he lagged behind, injured leg burning with each step and lungs not fully right.

Still, the tom hated lying around. Stretching his limbs should help or so he hoped. It wasn't like he could pretend to sleep anymore. Redveil's angular, dark frame bounded closer to Goldenroar's pale haunches, breath catching as their spotted nose picked up a peculiar scent.

Brown eyes flicked toward Merrystalk and then past her. Strange cats.

Ruffled fur bristled in a wave of surprise, tinged with concern. He hadn't realized there were more cats out here and judging by the other Windclanner's posture, neither had they. This kept his maw shut as his two companions questioned the others.

A surge of instinct clawed up his insides, urging the tom to put on a bolder front. Sadly, uncertainty curled around his limbs like vines. Not to mention his obviously weakened state. Redveil instead stayed rooted, muscles taut beneath their fur, eyes narrowing to cautious slits. Watching intently for any hostile movement.
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