[OPEN! FLASH EVENT PC/FC] Perceptions Collide

[Glowy]

OOC: Joinee notes

Flash Event: An event planned and executed quickly, with no planned direction or ending.


Instigating incident: Fogclan and Pineclan patrols meet at the boarder. Nothing simpler :P

Guidelines:
- This is an event you can drop in and out of at will. You could post once and disappear, and the thread will continue without you. There's no obligation at any point to stay involved. PERFECT FOR BUSY RPERS!
- ANYONE CAN JOIN AT ANY TIME! There is never too many cats!
- Open to Fog and Pine cats. For other clans/loners, ask an admin and state your cats motives (admin'll probably say yes!)
- There are no rules! Violence? Be our guest. Want to get the Pineclan/Fogclan leader involved? Have fun :D Want to begin a war? We won't protest! Just have fun :D
- There is absolutely, 100% no direction for this. Just post and see where it leads :D
- No post order! Ever.
- Include every joinee, early or late.

Contact any member of staff if you have questions![/size]

[bg=0c131f][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Of all the places that Tawnywhisker patrolled, she liked PineClan's border the least. It was so... disgusting. The smell of pine threatened to choke every other scent out of her system. Simply being so close to the mortal enemies of everything FogClan made her skin crawl as if it was infested with a million tiny millipedes. It took conscious effort to keep her fur from bristling too much. Despite the fog that obscured the border today, the scent wall between the factions was obvious. You couldn't see the border, but you could certainly smell it. Was the border a mouse-tail closer today than it had been yesterday? It was hard to tell. PineClan was sneaky, but they tended to be honest. Tawnywhisker had to give them that much, she supposed. After all, an enemy was worthless if you couldn't respect them for something. Today's patrol was quite large for some reason. Volepelt had decided to dump his apprentice into her care for the morning, as he had some "important duties to tend to." It wasn't that Tawnywhisker minded- no, she rather regarded the task as an honor- but it was a bit inconvenient. Patrols were not supposed to be much more than 2 or 3 cats, in her mind. That way the clan remained protected from invasion without detracting too much from the other duties of a warrior: provision and education. Tawnywhisker was walking along PineClan's border with Cranetail, Poppythroat, Thrushflower, Dovepaw, and Dappledpaw. What was this? Whose idea had this been? By the Stars, FogClan needed a Deputy! If not in truth than at least in power. Mistakes like this should not happen. It was a completely unequal distribution of power! Oh, it rankled her hide, it did! But, soft! What scent on yonder breeze comes here? 'Twas the pines, and they grew nearer still. Was a PineClan patrol headed their way? That would be most unfortunate. Thrushflower was likely to blow an ink-cap mushroom over it. She'd best take care of that. Aaaaaaand it was too late. The hulking figure of Gingerstar's apprentice, Rainpaw, appeared through the mists. Wonderful. Not only had they found a PineClan patrol, they had found a patrol with the tom who had attacked one of FogClan's Finest. AT. A. BLOODY. GATHERING. This was going to be... just... oh, StarClan. Tawnywhisker drew up stiffly and eyed the PineClan patrol with disdain, but kept her mouth shut. She, at least, had some sense of what manners were. She would let some other imbecile speak the first insult so that she could lecture them roundly later on. That was always fun. Thinking Speaking

[Pyro]

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Harefang had agreed to go on border patrol with Ashstorm, Honeystream, and Rainpaw. A border patrol would take her past FogClan, and if there was the slightest chance that Firestorm was there...Well. Admittedly, she'd be glad of the chance to see him, even if only in passing. They had spoken since the last Gathering, and they hadn't even gotten to finish the conversation because tumbleweeds-for-brains Rainpaw had gotten in a fight with, you guessed it, Firestorm. Was Firestorm just as stupid for getting in the fight? Yes. Freaking. Yes. What the hell was wrong with toms that they couldn't even look at each other without getting in a pissing match? Rainpaw should have known better. He was still on probation, technically speaking, and he was Gingerstar's apprentice for crying out loud. And Firestorm. Firestorm. Was a warrior. Nevermind the suffix he'd been given, he should have at least tried to show some semblance of respect.

The whole thing made her flat out irate.

But still, it'd be nice to see Firestorm again, if only so she could berate him.

If only so she could find out if...if that's how he felt about her. If one day, she were to say something that was not to his liking...would the little bond they'd been forging collapse, just like that? If the truce of a gathering was not enough to prevent such a violent outburst, who was to say that friendship would do better. The gathering, many cats believed, was made sacred by StarClan. What were a few friendly chats in comparison to hallowed ground? Hmph. Well. If he was so petty, then she didn't need him. I can find another man, someone with more sense, in a heartbeat. Not that he was her man.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that she nearly missed the misty scent of FogClan on the breeze. Were they at that section of the border already? Well. Time flies when you're thinking stupidness. Her sharp green eyes picked out misty forms across the way: a FogClan patrol? Had to be. As they drew closer, Harefang could pick out the expressions of open disdain on most of their faces. 'Well hello to you too.' Honestly, had they been raised in a barn without exposure to even the basest of courtesies? Sure, they didn't have to be friendly with one another, but at the very least they could be polite. PineClan had never done anything to spite FogClan, despite numerous provocations and the growing tensions between them. But damn if FogClan didn't insist on keeping their heads up their asses. It was a wonder they could even see to be going on patrol.

Sky above, just look at their haughty, contemptible faces.

"Didn't your mama never tell you that if'n you make faces like that they'll get stuck that way? I would have thought ya'll'd be more respectful with apprentices around. You know, set'n examples and whatnot." she remarked almost casually. As if anyone could really ignore them like that.

[Cloudbat]

FogClanners. Just the thing to make her day. They'd just have to mark the border awkwardly and then hightail it out of there-

...greaaaaat. Harefang decided to open her pretty mouth. Ashstorm had nothing against the she-cat, but that was a mouse-brained move. Not to say insulting the FogClanners and the giant sticks up all their behinds wasn't hugely attractive but -

- fox. Dung. Cranetail of all cats was in the patrol. Brilliant. Wait, do I care? I don't. I do. I don't. ARGH. Screw it all.

"Harefang." She muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "Wonderful objects of mockery they may be, but it's best done, you know, when they aren't actually here. Let's just mark the earthforsaken border and get the heck out." Unless she was mistaken, she was the one leading this patrol.

Awkwardly, she slunk off to mark a bush, still keeping a wary eye on the faces. Most she didn't know by name, but almost all except for the black-and-white apprentice by reputation. The shorter-furred tabby was Tawnywhisker, one of the Council numbskulls. The fluffy one, Thrush-something, was said to be particularly crazy. Almost Miststar - no, Mistdung level. The young white one was Volepelt's apprentice, though she couldn't remember her name. She shuddered, feeling both sympathy and revulsion for the poor thing. The ginger one was only vaguely recognizable from Gatherings, and of course...Cranetail. Just. Cranetail.

Ashstorm didn't even know how to describe her thoughts on him, but they included the words confusion and distaste.

Of course, there was her own patrol to think of as well. Harefang...well Harefang had already done damage. Honeystream she wasn't too worried about. Rainpaw...it'd been amazing seeing him attack a FogClanner, even if he was a tom, but the incident was best not repeated, especially when they were outnumbered. Gatherings. They could be fun, but they were hardly "sacred."

Finished with her duty, and still mulling over the various personalities colliding at the border, the small gray she-cat padded back to her group.

OOC: Is it okay to say Ashstorm is leading the patrol? ^^; She is the oldest one there, except for Rain, and she's higher in rank than he is, of course.

[MONSTER <3]

Quailpaw walked beside the rest of the patrol as they edged toward the Fogclan border. He had kept quiet, and just followed along with the rest of his clanmates. He was not one to talk to his clanmates without need, and they were not constantly talking to him for any reason, so he had been quiet for most of this border patrol. He was more of an observer anyhow, so he was alright with this arrangement. It was quite a large patrol today, but perhaps that was the point- they were going past a Fogclan border after all. So it would make sense to add to your numbers, but he couldn't say it was wise either. Ashstorm, Harefang, Honeystream, Rainpaw, and himself. That was too many cats for his liking, but he kept his mouth shut. Crowflower wanted him to go on a patrol, instead of sitting around the camp and going on lone walks- and he didn't want to go against his mentor's word, so he went without a complaint.

But, luuuucky them. Fogclan had also sent out a patrol, and seemed to have about as many cats as they had. So it wasn't just them adding more cats to their patrols- and that fact didn't surprise him one bit. They were practically after each other's throats, so there was reason for each to be cautious. He could feel the awkward tension in the air, and felt himself squirm a bit under its cloak. He half wondered if he should have questioned his mentor, but knew he wouldn't have done it even if he wanted to. It was just one border patrol, what could go wrong? Okay, a lot could, but he was sure hoping for the best.

" Didn't your mama never tell you that if'n you make faces like that they'll get stuck that way? I would have thought ya'll'd be more respectful with apprentices around. You know, set'n examples and whatnot. "

[/i]

Quailpaw jumped a tiny bit as his clanmate spoke, and felt his paws shift uncomfortably as he walked. Why did she have to say something? He questioned, and watched her uneasily for a moment before another cat spoke- and he quickly turned his eyes away from her.

" Harefang. Wonderful objects of mockery they may be, but it's best done, you know, when they aren't actually here. Let's just mark the earthforsaken border and get the heck out. "[/i]

Those had been Ashstorm's words, a bit quieter than Harefang's words. He hoped that she had meant to keep them from the Fogclan patrol, and also hoped that they hadn't heard it. He didn't know if it was even possible for them to hear it, but sure wished it wouldn't be. If the two patrols started going at it- he didn't even want to think about what he would do. Not yet. If he had to think, he would, but until then he planned to keep as quiet as he could. The last thing he wanted to be was a target for a Fogclan cat. He even averted his gaze, pretending that the trees in the other direction were holding all of his attention, or something like that. It was the first thing he thought of when trying to avoid confrontation, and once again hoped to what little he believed in that nothing would go wrong today. But as only a cat, that was all he could do- Hope.[/center][/size]

[ambird]

Ever so dutifully, the tabby she-cat followed Tawnywhisker and the rest of the patrol, marking the borders as the wondrous Code stated they should do as frequently as needed. Thrushflower twitched her whiskers in amusement at the fog that covered the land, considering the fact that out here, they wouldn't be able to see others until they were right on top of them. She was in a particularly good mood for a change. No cats had tried anything as of late. And if they did, she was more than capable of dealing with whatever punishments she may need to dish out. But she didn't think that that would be necessary today. Or perhaps she was just fine with letting cat's off the hook today. Everything had been perfect for her this morning. A patrol had been organized, her to take part, and they had been marking the borders thus far with little to no disruptions. Even without a deputy they seemed to be pulling along just fine.There always was something, however. Why so many cats? Thrushflower could just go on and continue to assume that having this many cats out of the camp would be perfectly fine, and her ignorance would be her bliss. Or she could consider how vulnerable that would put them. She was worried about the camp, and if it would still be in one piece when they returned home. But was she scared? Yes. Of other Clans? Please, don't make her laugh. Of all the non Clan-born scum still at camp. What if they were to try something? She didn't doubt that somewhere in their demented mindsets, they felt they could overpower Clan-borns and rise above. Some called her paranoid, insane and plenty of other things, but it all made sense in her mind. And her opinion was the only one that mattered anyways. Whilst in her(truly demented) thinking, she hadn't realized that had come upon the pine-filled land across their border. She liked to call it the Dark Forest of the Earth, because with their non-belief, that was where they were headed in the end anyways. Thrushflower was more than happy to mark the end and leave this place. But it appeared Starclan was going to test her patience of these filthy excuses of cats, because a patrol not unlike their own padded out through the mist, and she could make out their outlines. All thoughts of the "filth of the Clan," as she called it, she narrowed her eyes at the approaching cats. Sticking her nose high in the air, Thrushflower looked squarely at the cats in front of her. Pineclan. Despicable little freaks. Not only full of filthy half-breeds, rogues and kittypets, they had no faith in their sacred ancestors. They were absolute monsters. "It would appear your Clan not only doesn't teach of our ancestors, but also of manners. But I would expect as much from the likes of you filth. How dare you accuse us of making faces at the likes of you! In all honesty, I don't even know why I'm wasting the time to insult you demons." she snarled. [bg=d1d1c9][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[ambird]

[bg=252620][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Wordlessly, the white tom followed the patrol. He resisted the urge to lunge at the Council members included in the patrol. Luck would have it that he would have to be involved in one of the biggest patrols ever. All involving his absolute favorite cats. Thrushflower the demon-seed and Tawnywhisker....who was more along the lines of misguided. And then the poor apprentice to Volepelt and two others. Cranetail had been trying to eat before he had been called for the patrol. Why were there so many cats, anyways? Not like they needed like half the Clan patrolling obviously safe borders. No one wanted to even glance at their direction because of all the chaos emitting from the Clan. Their borders were safe, as far as he knew. Or could their be another motive for all of this? Could they have discovered his...meetings with not only Loonstep, but now Ashstorm as well? Cranetail shook the thought from his head. They weren't even headed in that direction. And then the patrol veered in that direction and he could feel his stomach drop. It was just a border patrol. Just a border patrol. He wasn't putting anyone in any danger...just remarking borders. That was all. After convincing himself of this, he let his mind wander to those two. Loonstep. The cat who had always been there for him, at time he had wondered if only because they were brothers. But he knew now it was more than just kinship that held them together. Both cared for the other greatly, because of the separation that they had both allowed. Not being able to see each other...made them both more aware of the others Clan's conditions. And his was not good. Then...there was Ashstorm. What was she to him? Just what Loonstep had said? A cat who had just wanted to help him because she had the same opinion on his Clan? Or was there more? Dang, he couldn't figure this one out. She...was very important to him. Just...just because of the helping with the rebellion! That was all! Yes, that was all...or was it? This was going to kill him! This much thought over the thoughts and feelings of one she-cat. But she wasn't just any she-cat was she? And then Cranetail blinked again and again at the sight he saw before him. Ashstorm's figure coming out from the fog. And more Pineclan cats. His head was spinning. The two Clan's had planned patrols at the same time in the same place? Disaster was going to strike. And he really really didn't to get involved. Cranetail wanted to mark the border, maybe give her one last glance and then high-tail it out of there. What was he thinking?! Their Clanmate's looked ready to throttle one another. "Please, not today, and definitely not now," he muttered to himself. Harassing harmless Pineclanner's was the last thing he wanted to do. Especially Ashstorm.

[Pyro]

"I know, Ashstorm but they treat us like dirt to our faces. I'm all for being the bigger person and all, but enough is- Excuse me?"

Demons? Demons? And what was that about accusing them? She wasn't accusing them of anything, she was pointing out the truth. Thrushflower looked like she was sniffing dung. But then, maybe she always looked like that, her face contorted far beyond what was proper for a lady. Clearly her mother had been no belle of the south, for Thrushflower was no belle herself of any land. Oh sigh.

Ashstorm's warning was clear. So clear. But Thrushflower's words sent Harefang's ears flat to the back of her head. Demons, indeed. It would seem that the pot was not above calling the kettle black. And after she had already pointed out the poor manners amongst fogclan's patrol. Ha. So good of the fat cow to prove her point. Harefang, though, was a lady and would not fall to her low, low, insulting level. She forced her ears up, and a small smile formed on her muzzle.

"If you want to talk manners, I'd suggest you learn to dust your house before you comment on another's cleaning. Honestly, the nerve. Are you all set, Ashstorm?"

[/b][/blockquote]

[[cazzy]]

[bg=d1d6da][atrb=width,430,true][atrb=border,0,true] There is a lot riding on her shoulders. Far too much that she still doesn't know how to deal with. Her mother's death is one of them. Her subsequent grief is yet another. There is this constant feeling of struggling (drowning on dry land) that Dappledpaw can never quite shrug off. And these feelings overwhelm her even on the most trivial of outings. Waking, training, eating, cleaning. If she were any other cat, she might say she is haunted by them. But instead she figures them a blessing of sorts. A constant reminder to keep on the right track, striving towards forgiveness, and warmth, and all that was good. Her mother. StarClan. Those very words had become a dull roar in the back of her mind. Her own personal mantra. (And perhaps a beacon of her unstable state.) She felt them now, wrapping 'round her fragile mind even as she walked. Each step tightened their grasp on her. She was ever the (willing) victim to her mind. (Long claws of doubt had long ago hooked themselves onto her brain. Insecurity, not to be out done, had sunk it's teeth in too.) Dappledpaw had not noticed the party had stopped. Her nose to the ground, the calico she-cat had paid no mind to her surroundings. She had busied herself with mind games and unreachable goals. Anything that focused her on the path ahead. (The bigger picture that is.) She drew her movements from her mentor. Tawnywhisker stiffened, so she did the same. She came to stand beside the older she-cat, pushing pelt into pelt. If nothing else, Dappledpaw was a fine good mimic. She set her stoney gaze on the patrol on the opposite side of the border. They were untouchable. That was what her mother had whispered in her ears. PineClanners dirtied the earth. To touch, to talk to them… Well it was unforgivable. You could not dirty your paws on the likes of them. So to her, Thrushflower's words sound like a victory. There was a power in her clan-mate that Dappledpaw had always admired. Such strong faith, it sent shivers down the younger she-cat's spine. So how dare those… those… demons. Yes, she liked that. The ring it had in her mind, it sound good. (In always fitting) How dare those demons speak back! Outrage coursed through every nerve in her smaller body. “Watch your tongue!” The words were out before she could clamp down on them. Pure instinct had caused her to speak out and, now, she shrunk back against her mentor. She did not regret that the words were said, only that they came out of her mouth. She did not need to defend Thrushflower. Strong, sure Thrushflower who could more than defend herself. The words of an apprentice would surely offend her. (Dappledpaw had forgotten her place. She had failed.)

[/blockquote][/color][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Cloudbat]

Wow. Thrush-whatever was seriously funny. She deserved her own segment at Gatherings. Ashstorm couldn't help it - she laughed, long and loud, her green eyes bright and her gray-striped face full of mirth as she looked at the fluffy FogClanner, and really couldn't blame Harefang for what she said. Screw it, she was pitching in too.

"Well, whatever makes you happy, your honor." She said, still grinning. "We demons aim to please, Thrushie, and we'll be out of your precious fur soonly." Not that that made much sense, but Thrushie made even less. Thrushie. Yep, I'm not gonna bother to learn her suffix. That's her name now.

Oh, Cranetail was muttering something. Ashstorm was on a roll now; she couldn't resist teasing him too. Ah, screw it. She was going to be hypocrite and ignore her own advice. This was too much fun.

"Muttering prayers for our salvation? I'm flattered, you shouldn't have." Knowing perfectly well he probably wasn't, Ashstorm winked at him. What could she say, craziness was contagious.

'Sides, she wasn't mocking them. At least, not insulting them angrily. If they decided to attack, bring it. Or maybe she'd just run, laughing all the way. Who knew? Who cared? It was all fun and games.

Ah, she knew it might turn ugly. But she was Ashstorm, the taunter, the mocker, the trickster and maybe even the avenger of the FogClanners who were only partially idiotic and not actually insane and harmful. This could be the beginning of something beautiful.

Oh now the little black and white one spilled words out of her gut. Ashstorm laughed at her too. "'Watch your tongue?' I'm watching mine all right, and it's currently deeply amused and ready to high-tail it before things get more surreal."

Saying so, the gray tabby began to turn on the FogClanners, tail waving almost teasingly as she did so.

[Piewonder]

Honeystream

Oh what a glorious day! The patrol was out, birds flitting here and there, and Harefang was on patrol. Not that Honeystream was bothered by the others, goodness no, she liked them enough. But, to have another sassy southern belle, well, that just made things all the better didn' it?

Amber eyes were slightly closed as the patrol moved throughout their territory. The sun was warm, it was beautiful - wait...this was FogClan's boarder. Oh, foxdung! There were cats there too. Heck, she had nothing against the cats, but ones like Thrushflower really ground her gears. Coming up beside Harefang, Honeystream's face contorted into one of amusement and rage. The reddish she-cat let a liquid laugh flow from her lips at her clanmate's words, whiskers twitching.

But, wait. What?! Demons! Why, how dare she. "Now, that's just not right."[/color] Honeystream's southern drawl stayed calm, but was tenser than a jackrabbit. "Manners? Look who's talkin'. We may not believe in StarClan, but darlin', at least we know decency."[/color] Anger crawled up her skin like red ants. Ears falling back, Honeystream stood her ground in front of Thrushflower, her amber eyes narrowing to slits.

This filthy piece of foxdung would've been whooped into submission had some come from her family. There was a time and place to speak your mind, but as long as you were respectful, there was no issue. It was a different story if you were being berated. This, this was just uncalled for and Honeystream was ready for a brawl. [/size][/center]

[Blossom]

The fog was particularly dense that day. The young tabby warrior had thought she might try her paw at a solo hunt. Ha! A mole would have been more successful had it tried to come above-ground and see. She hadn't ever been great at hunting, and all this fog didn't help; especially whilst she as alone.

Since hunting wasn't an option now, and she was always in need of doing something useful, the she-cat cut across the trees of her own Clan until they, gradually, met with the tall pines of PineClan. Despite the scent-masking fog all around, the potent scent of the pines overwhelmed her scent-glands.

Stopping briefly to peer around the border, she was able to conclude that all seemed quiet, peaceful. Nothing was going on....Had she thought this too soon? An ear flicked, and then they both swiveled, trying to pick up the best reception....There. Yes. Kestrelheart heard voices now. Some were more faint and she couldn't make out what any of them were saying. There was a certain tone to some of them. The curl of her lip was instinctual.

Without even knowing what was going on, her tail began to disturb the thick fog behind her as it lashed. If there was to be a border dispute, she was going to be involved, most certainly. It had been such a long time since she'd been given any chance to sink her claws into actual, tender flesh. She'd be mouse-brained to pass the chance up.

So, without delaying herself anymore, the FogClan warrior, of just one moon now, began following the border to her clan-mates and their adversaries.

It did not take her long to reach them. Narrowing her eyes, she was able to see most of the PineClan cats across the way. The apprentices were the easiest to recognize. Rainpaw and Quailpaw. An older apprentice and a Medicine Cat apprentice. Then there was Ashstorm, Honeystream, and Harefang. The only one she'd heard of, really, or knew anything of, was Ashstorm, and she didn't even truly know anything about that one.

Rainpaw, thought, she'd heard, had attacked Firestorm. If this broke out into a battle, he'd be the first cat she dealt with, StarClan willing. Attacking one of her own was one thing, fine, but not at a Gathering. If not him, then fine. She'd fight whichever cat StarClan threw her way. All except Quailpaw. Little, innocent Quailpaw. Alright, maybe he wasn't innocent, but even if he didn't believe in StarClan, he was a medicine cat in training. If he did believe in StarClan, he would have been a chosen cat. She wouldn't harm him. In fact, she was appalled that PineClan was even participating in a battle of wits and words with their medicine cat apprentice in the mix. They did not have the cats to spare in order to protect him.

Kestrelheart couldn't help but speak up on the matter. Coming to join her clan-mates now, she let a noise of subtle disdain before surveying the cats on PineClan's side. When she stood near her Clan, she did not take a position up along-side any of them. She stood connected, but by herself.

Now to pick out the leader of PineClan's patrol....It certainly wasn't Rainpaw or Quailpaw. The idea of apprentices leading a patrol pulled her distinct lips up into a grin. It only showed briefly before she continued her observation. No. The leader of this patrol would be standing alone, the ring leader. Maybe against the jibing at first, maybe even still against it. But truly, who could resist? The Clans were the exact opposites of each other. Honeystream and Harefang were together. That left Ashstorm. It was to her that Kestrelheart now looked.

"You're willing to endanger the life of your Medicine Cat's apprentice just for the sake of tossing in a few harmless insults, Ashstorm? I doubt, very highly, that he possesses the ability to protect himself if the warriors around him begin trading blows. What if he was to be harmed...or killed?" Was it a threat? No. Might some of them take it that way? Probably. Kestrelheart was calm, however, as she watched for their reactions. Did she care about what her clan-mates thought? Not really. Although, she was sure that she would hear from Tawnywhisker later, for speaking out when she wasn't even a part of the patrol.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw winced. Things were getting too heated, way too quickly. How easy would it have been to simply stare one another down and then move along? It would have been so easy. If Volepelt had been with the patrol, he would never have allowed the incident to progress beyond, perhaps, a couple cross murmurs. He would have kept his warriors under control. This was foolishness, truly. The PineClanners had done nothing to provoke the FogClan patrol. The way things were headed, this would escalate into a full-on battle. FogClan would be held responsible, and rightfully so. Gingerstar would become their outspoken enemy. To attack this patrol would be tantamount to a declaration of war. Hah, and all because her clanmates couldn't remove the sticks from their rear ends and get over themselves. Wonderful. She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself. Who would listen to her? Self-righteousness gave her clanmates their sense of power. They would not give up their power, not to her. They would not listen, none of them. To speak now would be taking things too quickly. She couldn't force change. Poppythroat had said that it had to happen slowly, gradually, and it had to be so subtle that it seemed perfectly natural. If only he was here right now. Dappledpaw drew herself up next to Tawnywhisker as the Council Member stiffened, but Dovepaw shrank back from the group a few pawsteps. Perhaps if nobody saw her, she could fly away. She did not belong in conflicts like this. It was not her place. Then again, everybody was overstepping their places at the moment. Dovepaw watched with trepidation as Tawnywhisker continued to bristle, and cringed as she saw the she-cat give Dappledpaw a smile of approval. "Well said, young one. They forget themselves, these PineClanners, and they need someone to remind them how to behave. It is good that the reminder should have come from one so young as yourself," the warrior mewed happily. Part of Dovepaw longed for such approval from her mentor. She shook her head. No. What was his approval worth, when these creatures were of his design, when this attitude was a thing he actually encouraged? He would have Dovepaw become like them. He would put her in a cage. She was meant to fly. She would become the Dove, with Poppythroat's help. What she needed to do was forsake Volepelt and abandon her desires to gain his approval. If she was still weighted down by his expectations, she would never fly. Dovepaw couldn't help him. Perhaps the Dove could. Dovepaw's ears perked with interest as Rainpaw spoke from across the border. His words were directed at Quailpaw, but his accent garnered her attention nonetheless. "Kestrelheart is right, Quailpaw. You ought to get back to camp. Snakes like these can kill with a glance. Don't even have to bite ya."

[/b] he advised. Dovepaw had to strain to hear his next words, as they were nearly whispered. "Maybe you ought to see about bringin' back some firepower."[/b]

This was getting too dicey for Dovepaw's taste. There was nobody on her side of the border who would be likely to come to her aid if Rainpaw's extra "firepower" came through and found her, scarred and half-starved, awaiting her fate. She did not think she would be able to fight the PineClanners. She saw too much... soul in them. She saw their potential to fly with her, and attack their oppressors from the sky. No, she could not attack them. If needed, she would defend herself, but if she could slip away...

Perhaps it was true, and perhaps it was simply a figment of her desperate imagination, but she could have sworn on the stars that she smelled Poppythroat nearby. She could trust him. Therefore, she would stay. When he showed up, she would be safe. He would keep everybody from hunting birds.

speaking
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[Cloudbat]

Boy howdy, the CrazyClanners were popping out of the ground like maggots. This one seemed even more nutty than her counterparts. Ashstorm turned back to face the brown tabby, snorting as she breathed in yet another not-so-sweet cat smell.

"Endanger? Oh, so you speak for the whole patrol and you plan to attack a medicine cat apprentice who hasn't done anything, because of some wordplay? If I remember correctly that's against the code, sweetheart, no matter what Clan we are. I'm sure not planning to throw myself at anyone, it'd mess up my pelt. And wouldn't that just be a crying shame. But hey, if you want to be the one to provoke a pointless fight, be my guest." She smirked at the silly tabby.

She rolled her eyes as Tawnywhisker opened her stripey mouth. I don't even have anything to say to that. That one's obviously so far off the deep end she's pretty much drowned.

The she-cat chuckled at her large comrade's words. "An apt metaphor, Rainpaw, I must admit." Still, her brow furrowed when he spoke again. "Oy, I was under the impression I was the leader of this patrol. Quailpaw can go back to camp if he likes, it's his choice. But I'll admit that if these numbskulls do attack us it might be nice to have backup. Still, it's up to you." She said, the last sentence addressing the medicine cat tom himself. Technically, Ashstorm didn't have the authority to tell him what to do.

She was hoping a fight didn't break out, but unfortunately she knew it was possible. However, gauging their odds, it was actually fairly even.

On their side there was her, Honeystream, Harefang, and Rainpaw, who could easily make up in brute force what he lacked in skill. So three warriors and an apprentice who practically was a warrior. Quailpaw didn't count as a fighting force, of course.

True, FogClan had five warriors plus two apprentices, but she couldn't even see the fifth, only barely pick him out by scent. She didn't think Cranetail would attack them...unless directly ordered to and he didn't have a choice. I better be right about you, she grumbled mentally. You could mess up my calculations. Besides, the white apprentice didn't look very aggressive, and the little mottled one hardly posed a threat.

So, all in all, it was more like four against three.

[Blossom]

Kestrelheart hissed her indignation, her long tail lashing behind her. Though she'd been calm only seconds before, her temper now had the better of her as she peer at Ashstorm through slit green eyes. "The Code," she spat, bristling as this non-believe dared speak of it. "You honor no Code!" How dare she? The fact that she'd taken her words as a threat hadn't surprised her, but how dare she drag the Warrior Code into this.

"I most certainly did not threaten a medicine cat apprentice and on top of that, I didn't speak on behalf of this patrol, either; that's Tawnywhisker's duty," why was she even explaining herself to these...rogues? The tabby warrior looked then to Rainpaw, glaring at him in disgust, if not suspicion. He seemed to always be up for a fight, didn't he?

"As valuable as our time is and we're wasting it on these rogues," she mumbled then, half to herself and half to her Clan-mates. Calling them rogues was putting nicely. Ordinarily, she wouldn't be on for name-calling, but she was aggravated beyond measure right then.

"We're not sending an apprentice for back-up," she scoffed out-loud then, unable to believe that sending Quailpaw away was even suggested. Wasn't he their safety, their insurance? "It isn't like any cat would get here in time." That. That might have been a threat. Her thoughts were hot and they burned her skull, blurring her vision. To clear it all, she had to shake her head, licking her chest briefly afterward. When she looked back up, the figures before her were more clear.

The young she-cat let out a soft sigh and looked to Tawnywhisker, knowing full well that she was the lead of this border patrol. "I was out trying my paw at a bit of hunting, but then I smelled your patrol and came to see if you needed anything," she explained, half telling the truth. It was her curiosity that drove her forward, not her desire to behave as an apprentice was expected. From the looks of things, they had all the apprentices they would need. They'd have three if Mothpaw were here, but she wasn't. Mothpaw had been left back at Camp to clean out the Elder's den.

[Pyro]

"You most certainly did. The threat was implied and you're too much of cover-tail to admit it."

Wait just a cotton-picking minute. Was that contemptible badger doubting their loyalty to the warrior code? The Code was an integral part of PineClan life, as much as the family-like bonds that linked them as a clan, if not comrades. Just because some of them didn't believe in StarClan...well, most of them. Harefang herself couldn't say for sure what she believed after having talked with Firestorm, but if StarClan invoked such heated reactions and venomous speech from its followers, perhaps it was best if she remained agnostic. Borderline atheist, even, like her clanmates. Whatever their beliefs though, Kestrelheart could not accuse them of being codeless.

"Just because we don't worship the dead, doesn't mean we don't respect them. And neither does it mean we disregard the code, you ignorant dollymop. If you continue with your false accusations and ill-mannered demeanor, miss, than I'm afraid I'll have to teach you proper Southern Etiquette, and it will make no difference whether Quailpaw comes back with additional help then, I can promise you that. No need for the cavalry when when a naughty kit or two can be shown the error of their ways with a good spanking from their betters."

Harefang glanced over at the apprentice amongst their group. She looked to be a small thing, especially if you compared her with Quailpaw, who was big for his age. She didn't even look well-fed to be honest..."Oh you're not? I'm not surprised. When was the last time you fed your apprentice? But of course, I suppose leafbare is hard for all of us." The last was an afterthought, more than an attempt to make up for the implied accusation of neglect.

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