Who Are You Talking to, Fishface? [Topic 5]

"Hey Laurelpaw! Wanna grab a warrior and patrol the RiverClan border?" Nectarpaw asked his best friend. Then a a hushed voice, he continued; "Our last trip to the gorge ended quickly. We can go again, as a patrol." Nectarpaw hoped she would like his suggestion. Which warrior should they ask though? He spotted Quailfeather and padded up to her. "Hey Quailfeather, can we patrol the RiverClan border with you?"

Quailfeather sat quietly, looking over the burnt, soot-covered grass that was WindClan territory. Her home, the home of her Clan, longer back than any cat could remember. Thinking back to the fateful events of that night, her ice-blue eyes seemed far away, looking beyond the singed hills and up at the cloudy skies. Had the mist been sent from StarClan, as so many cats seemed to be claiming? Were they rewarding Ashstar for making the difficult choice of demoting Smokepelt and instating Brindlewhisker? As much as she knew it had hurt her father, the gray speckled she-cat was inclined to believe her leader that it was StarClan's will, so it seemed the most logical conclusion as to why the cool white fog had rescued them from the terrible fate that seemed to have befallen every other Clan. But something about it seemed off. The experienced warrior couldn't quite place it, but there was something... wrong about that mist. Quailfeather was startled out of her reverie as Laurelpaw, her daughter, and Nectarpaw, one of her friends, padded up. "A patrol?" she inquired, recovering from her surprise quickly. "I do recall Brindlewhisker saying something about a sunhigh patrol.... Well, I don't see why not!" The lithe gray she-cat stood up, waving her white tail-tip playfully. "Come on, you two. Last one to the RiverClan border's a piece of crowfood!" She was off like a shot, dashing across the ash-coated grass, paws barely touching the ground. It was hardly her top speed, though- she didn't want to leave the apprentices too far behind.

Laurelpaw, for once, was relaxing in a patch of warm sunlight just outside of the apprentice's den. The excitable white and speckled she-cat usually detested doing nothing, but ever since the fire had threatened the camp a few nights ago, she had been a bit behind on energy. The late-night interruption and the hard digging had left her groggy and sore, but finally it seemed that she was starting to get back to normal. The mysterious mist that saved the clan intrigued her, but she didn't spend much time dwelling on it. It saved us, so it must be from StarClan! Why is everybody questioning it?

Even though she had enjoyed her short nap in the sun, she had no hesitation to jump up and follow Necterpaw when he suggested a patrol; and a re-do to their disastrous mission Stonepaw had ruined. An energetic smile on her angled face, the young she-cat nodded and couldn't help but bounce on her paws as her mother agreed to go with them. Laurelpaw laughed at Quailfeather care-free challenge, and shot a playful glance at her calico friend before dashing off after her mother, purring all the way. Though the moor was burned in some places, and the air still smelled of smoke, her territory still held all the excitement and adventure it had prior. Savoring the feeling of the wind rushing through her fur, she began to catch up to Quailfeather until she was running neck-and-neck with her mother.

Nectarpaw grinned at the challenge of a race, and sprinted after the two she-cats. He ignored the charred land and bits of ash everywhere, just focusing on the idea of winning the race and having an adventure. He wondered if they would bump into any RiverClan patrols on their patrol, and for that matter if RiverClan had caught on fire as well.

The cloudy, overcast felt nice in comparison to the late Newleaf heat that had been seemingly plaguing the forest as of late- especially since the fire. Splashpaw turned to look back at Stormheart and Willowpaw who had been with her upon leaving camp, amber eyes hazed with slight boredom- patrols were always seemingly boring nowadays. Everything was boring nowadays. "We only need to check the WindClan border right?" She questioned slowly, lazily sauntering towards the Gorge without an evident hurry in her step- it wasn't like those rabbit bone munching fleabags weren't going anywhere!

As Nectarpaw raced toward the RiverClan border, he suddenly caught a scent stronger than just the regular border markers. It was most likely an actual RiverClan patrol. He wondered how Laurelpaw and Quailfeather would take this. He reached the gorge, breathless. "So which one of us was here first, and who is a piece of crow-food?"

Willowpaw trailed behind her clanmates, Splashpaw and Stormheart, quietly taking in the charred surroundings. Everything smelled like ash and smoke, and she thought it was never gonna go away. Shaking her head quietly, her gaze glanced up at Splashpaw as she began talking. She shrugged, "I think so, right?" She asked quietly, looking towards Stormheart expectantly.

ooc; short and bad but i don't have a computer right now ;c

Quailfeather waited until they were a fox-length away from the Gorge, then put on a final burst of speed. Her paws flew across the ground in a giant leap, skidding to a halt right by the cliff's edge. She casually licked her white paw and drew it over her ear as the apprentices ran up at about the same time. "What took you so long?" she drawled teasingly, winking with a sparkling blue eye to show them she was joking. Considering Nectarpaw's question, she tilted her head to the side. "I don't know, you guys.... It's a pretty tough call." But before the WindClan warrior could decide who was a piece of crowfood and who was not, she smelled a fishy, salty scent that stung her nose and made her muzzle wrinkle in disgust. It was her least favorite smell in the forest, just above the scent of the scorched territory that was her home. "RiverClan," she hissed as a warning to Laurelpaw and Nectarpaw. And sure enough, three RiverClan cats sauntered up on their side of the border. It looked as blackened and charred as the moors were, perhaps worse. Quailfeather guessed that no mysterious white mist had come to save the fish-eating Clan. Finally, StarClan rectifies the misdeed and the innocent blood shed long ago. Her frosty blue eyes regarded the enemy Clan warriors with a cool, condescending stare, the stance of her lithe gray speckled body suggesting battle readiness, distrust and superiority in one. "Oh look," the warrior smirked to her Clanmates, eyes not leaving the RiverClanners. A warrior and two apprentices. Not much of a threat at all. "A couple of slimy fish out of water. How can they breathe in all this smoky air?"

"Are they the pieces of crowfood?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think. It was his instinctive response to Quailfeather's comment, but he wished it hadn't been so mean. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to apologize, just plaster a guilty look on his face. He did notice how burnt and charred the landscape of RiverClan was as well, and wondered if they had been save by the same miracle that had saved WindClan. It didn't seem like it, so did StarClan like WindClan more than RiverClan? It sure seemed like it.

"Ha, they're nothing but a rotting pile of fish guts!"  Trying her best to match the condescending tone of her mother, Laurelpaw lashed her tail arrogantly and turned her nose up at the distant RiverClan cats, snorting haughtily.  If they think that RiverClan is better than WindClan, we'll soon teach them otherwise!  We were saved by StarClan themselves!  Can they say the same?  Her pale greenish-yellow eyes narrowed to slits, the young she-cat had no qualms with the current situation; this is what real warriors do every day!  Maybe there will even be a battle!

Oh no. Superior cats were not supposed to snobbishly tease those that are lower than them! Nectarpaw felt really guilty now, and felt like he should do something. "Just because StarClan likes us more doesn't mean we should be mean to them!" Nectarpaw reminded the rest of his patrol. Then, to the RiverClan patrol, he continued; "So, you're territory is badly burned it seems?" Even though it wasn't the most polite question, he was eager to know the answer and thought this would be the easiest and the most straightforward way to do so.

"Bold words for gangly little moor-rats." came a voice from a dense cluster of bushes nearby. A heartbeat later, Stormheart shouldered his way out and into the open. He'd been tracking a plump vole that had wandered out of the forest and along the border for quite some time when he'd picked up on the voices of several WindClan cats. What in StarClan's name were they doing, throwing jibesaround even though there had been no RiverClan cats in sight? How very mature.

The burly tom sniffed, his tone lined with condescension. "You know, I've never seen grown cats sniggering over such pathetic insults about another Clan like that. Only kits, really. Don't you have something more important to do, like mate with Tribe cats or rogues?" He flicked his tail and lowered his head to pick the scent-trail up again. They weren't worth wasting breath or energy on.

Willowpaw padded up beside Stormheart just as the overpowering scent of WindClan came over her. Fluffing her fur up, she glanced at the older tom before looking back at the moor runners. "Why don't you keep your nose where it belongs. Down a rabbit hole!" she yowled over the gorge, her heart racing. She wasn't sure what came over her to be so forward, well for her, and it made her heart race with nerves and excitement. She liked this feeling. Like she could do anything. A grin made its way to her face, and she glanced up at Stormheart and towards Spalshpaw. Somewhat hoping there'd be a look of surprise and/or proudness in their gaze.

mobilee

Splashpaw's ears pricked as Stormheart and Willowpaw began to hurl insults at the petty and foul-smelling WindClan cat's, her mouth growing slightly dry as she continued to observe the mounting tensions- couldn't WindClan just be satisfied with their own seemingly endless drama without having to go and pick fights with RiverClan like always? Stepping up a bit closer to her clanmates, the little calico's chest puffed as she listened to Stormheart's seemingly effortless response- how could he belt out such a witty response without a moment of thought? The prospect of trying to belt out an insult made her rather anxious, but that hardly stopped her from tilting her chin defiantly and kinking her tail in an anticipation.

"If those insults are the very best you've got, then you might as well do yourself a favor and further trash your already disease-riddled gene pool by mating with those Tribe Cats!" Splashpaw chirped eagerly, feeling a bit more confident now that she was speaking- not even minding the fact that she took away from Stormheart's earlier insult. "Doing so probably wouldn't damage your already pitifully low intelligence levels- every cat knows that once you hit rock bottom you can't fall any further; even when it comes to hollow-headed barbarians like yourselves!" Her voice rose tauntingly towards the end of her sentence, pitching to a scornful yowl that echoed slightly across the seemingly empty border site.