Open Territory WarriorClan worms tail // warriorclan patrol

This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.
This thread is for the kittypets who are members of WarriorClan!

cheddarspark

has your journey been good? has it been worthwhile
Council Member
3
0
Freshkill
20
Nickname
cheddar
Pronouns
any and all
Played by
gonkpilled
. ° ✦
Dainty paws of a well-kept, spoiled feline carried across uneven ground with practiced grace. Cheddarspark held her head high with enthusiasm and confidence, she was WarriorClan's Heart Guard after all! She would do her leader proud by presenting their Clan to these decrepit lands with respect and fairness.

"Hark mine own fellow warriors! Careful as we stepeth into unknown lands." The tabby meowed without any effort to conceal his presence to any nearby strangers. The air here was stuffy with dust and the scent of decayed scraps. He sneezed once, twice, each with a quick, aggressive shake of his head. "Alloweth us to continueth with haste."
° . . °
  • ooc:"mew"
  • CHEDDARSPARK — any/all ・ 36 moons ・ heart guard & warriorclan ・ penned by gonkpilled!
    a short-haired ginger-and-white tabby with blue eyes. cheddarspark is a purebred scottish straight born to two champion show cats. he speaks with shakespearan mannerisms and enjoys boasting of great feats that are secretly not her own.
 

Firefly hears them before they see them. A group of cats, unfamiliar, and on their land. They signal quietly with their tail to the Rustclaws with them, lowering their body to the ground and slinking under a scrap heap of a car, observing the newcomers from afar. Kittypets. Soft, round, loud. If not for Nonna back at their camp, they'd have jumped them immediately, but they suppose the old leader would want them to be… diplomatic. Besides, they seriously doubt these soft bodied creatures would put up any fight at all, so it'd be no fun anyway.

They slip out from under the car, approaching the newcomers with a neutral expression, though their eyes glint like the edge of a knife under the sun.

"Someone's a little far from home, aren't they, princess?" They say to the one who'd spoken so loudly, with that silly accent. "Lost, are we? I'd remember seeing you around, and if you'd been here before, you wouldn't have come back."

 
why you lookin here
Nose to the ground, Socket moved carefully alongside his fellow Rustclaws, green eyes looking out for any sign of herbs in this area of the territory. Though usually they came back empty-pawed from here - cars running over plants would do that, so close to the twolegplace whatever the cars didn't get the twolegs were sure to think were either pretty or weeds and they'd pluck without mercy - there were times they came back from these patrols with a small bounty of useful things. Sometimes it was only one or two plants, other times it was five or six, today however it seemed as though it would be none as was the norm, and the loud voice of another calling out to a patrol made the surgeon's thin tail whip in annoyance, nose wrinkling up as head moved from it's downward position as ears swiveled around.

He'd look over to Firefly for a moment as they moved towards the sound, following behind silently as eyes land on the one who spoke. Socket knew they were near kittypets but didn't think they'd be brave - or stupid - enough to venture out this far away from their cozy nests where they could get killed or taken. Eyes would keep watch on them for now, claws sheathed until they were needed - and though he wasn't opposed to them being needed he certainly hoped they wouldn't be, for wasting herbs on the cats for a bunch of kittypets was not something he wanted to do.
 
———————————————— Overboard, lost in the wilderness. ✦


The cinnamon tom trudged behind Cheddarspark, always unable to take the high and mighty speech of the prissy little feline seriously. But there was a reason Gingerbread begrudgingly agreed to the Warriorclan, to protect these softie cats who thought themselves strong enough to face real strays.

He rolled his eyes a little, trundling along slower than he liked; the uneven terrain was still a pain in his ass to handle, but he managed as well as he could. It was unlikely anything awry would happen today; nothing ever seemed to.

But, like the tom manifested it to existence, the bitter scent of strangers hit Gingerbread, and he narrowed mismatched eyes as scraggly, thin-looking cats came to view. His fur stood on end, looking back at Cheddar with a teasing sneer, narrowing tired eyes. "Aye now feller, ain't no need ta' get prickly with 's, ya' hear?" He took a step closer, voice low and gravelly as it often was, but lacked his usual relaxed charm. He had known the feral life, one day so long ago, weary claws hadn't seen bloodshed in a long time.

And, honestly, he didn't want to change that. "We ain't here fer trouble, right?" He looked to the patrol, ear flicking, he'd signed up for this to protect them, but he really wasn't prepared for a fight. "Who even 're y'all, knew there's strays out here, but ya'll seem... Organised."

  • Gingerbread
    ✦—Warriorclan Tussler | 44 moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A large, cinnamon tortie with mismatched blue and green eyes, missing a back leg and wearing a green kittypet collar.
    #DD4531