Malcontent [OPEN]

Mistyfalcon padded back into camp alongside the rest of his patrol, dropping the hare he'd managed to catch onto the fresh-kill pile. It had been a near-miss, the dark-furred tom was unusually tired tonight for some reason. Finding a spot near the edge of camp, Mistyfalcon stretched out, half-lidded gaze eyeing the camp. More patrols would be getting back soon, but for now it was quiet except for a few warriors stretched out here and there. This late in greenleaf, the nights were humid and almost as unbearable as the days, and Mistyfalcon would be lying if he said he wasn't part of the cats that would be happy to laze about camp.

Of course, there was plenty that needed to be done, the clan still needed to eat, and their borders needed to be protected. Rogues still prowled the territory, his clanmates were dying or being taken by twolegs, and there was simply little to be done about either problem. The rogues had proven to be crafty in their own right, and were only predictable in how they attacked any patrol small enough. And to complicate things, Shadowclan was without a fully-trained medicine cat. Basilpaw was far too young, far too new to the position to have lost her mentor so suddenly. Condorpaw was gone, Moonshine, Foxspark and Rookfire... Rosethorn too. Mistyfalcon had never been a particularly social cat, but the camp felt quiet without them, and the silence was somehow nearly as oppressive as than Asylum's control over them had been. His eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, the dark-furred tom's gaze raking over the pines that surrounded Shadowclan's camp, tail flicking back and forth.

Frostgaze padded back into camp from a border patrol, shaking himself as he went. The hot, sticky air had his pelt glued to him uncomfortably, as if he'd been dunked into water. There had been too many rogue scents for the white tom's liking, he even caught a whiff of the one that had attacked him and Mistyfalcon. No matter, Shadowclan would defeat them soon, it was only a matter of time.

Flicking his one ear back in annoyance (because that glued feeling wouldn't leave him alone), his eyes locked onto Mistyfalcon. Frostgaze pondered for a moment, on one paw perhaps Mistyfalcon would like to hear an update on the rogue situation, on the other, would he even care? It made no difference what information they had, the rogues were still on their territory, prowling about. Not only that, but warriors had been dropping like flies as of late, and apprentices. Too many had gone in the face of the threat, they had to be vigilant. Eventually coming to the conclusion that Mistyfalcon would appreciate the news, Frostgaze quietly made his way over.

"Greetings Mistyfalcon, was your patrol a success?" Frostgaze's voice came out quieter than usual, as to not disturb the others lounging around in the clearing. No use in upsetting them. "My patrol counted quite a few rogue scents. They still prowl our borders, unfortunately. I thought that perhaps you would like to know, despite the fact that nothing has changed." Mistyfalcon had also been attacked, perhaps he would like knowing that nothing had changed. After all, even positive change could be frightening to even the most stoic of warriors. That was simply the nature of change.

Loudpaw emerged from the apprentice den into the quiet camp. He stretched his back leg, his head reaching upwards. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm. He ruffled his fur, still waking up from his nap. Yellow eyes flashed in the sunlight, looking around the camp. It seemed most of his clanmates were sticking to the edges, preferring the cool shadows. Contrarily, the heat didn't bother the thick-furred apprentice, he enjoyed it actually. A rumble rose in his chest, he felt energized and rested, the sun only adding onto that. His gaze caught on to bright white fur. Upon a closer look he realized it was Frostgaze. Frostgaze! Loudpaw hadn't talked to the newly appointed warrior in quite a while. And to him was his father Mistyfalcon, perfect.

He padded up to them with his tabby tail in the air. It seemed as if the conversation had died down, or at least taken a break. He quickly nuzzled his dark coated father before sitting down next to him. "Hello, it's nice to see you," he purred quietly, for Misty's ears only. The cool air was nice and relaxing, he saw why most cats liked it. He shifted his attention to Frostgaze, he looked like he had just taken a swim. Loudpaw decided to ask him about that, "Frostgaze, why do you look wet? Also how are you? What is it like being a warrior? Congratulations by the way! I can not wait for when I become a warrior, I hope my name is as beautiful and epic as yours, Frostgaze is such a pretty name! Do you know why you got it? Do you have keen eyes or something? Oh wait it is probably because your eyes are blue. What a pretty blue too! Oh! I forgot, hi." It didn't cross his mind that the warrior was named after how the his eyes could pierce through your soul, probably because the apprentice was too caught up in their hue to care.

It wasn't long before another warrior decided to join him, and Mistyfalcon smirked at Frostgaze's words. "we caught plenty of prey this time, no rogues, though their scent is everywhere." And what a shame that was. Mistyfalcon would've enjoyed clawing those rogues to shreds after everything. "Think there's a chance they're as disgusted by the heat as we are and they decide to move on? Probably wishful thinking." Definitely wishful thinking. The rogues were obsessive, and Mistyfalcon didn't think they'd leave until they had what they wanted. Unfortunately for them, Batglow wasn't going anywhere.

A fluffy brown tabby padded over, and Mistyfalcon lightly pressed against Loudpaw, returning the greeting. "Hey, you." A lazy purr rumbled in his chest for a moment. His son was certainly in a chatty mood today, though he seldom wasn't in a chatty mood. Mistyfalcon glanced between Frostgaze and Loudpaw, a bemused expression crossing his face momentarily. Stars above, the apprentice could go from one subject to the next faster than one could say 'mouse.'

"As I said, this heat is miserable. I almost feel bad for Windclan, having to hunt under the sun with no shade at all." Why any cat would choose that sort of life was beyond Mistyfalcon, truly.

The white tom gave a bored blink. "If there was a chance, they would have left already. No, they seem to be here to stay and harass us for a while yet. Wishful thinking, however comforting it may be, will change nothing." Wishes did nothing, hoping did nothing, only action would solve anything. Mayhaps he should inquire to Flintstar as to creating a large battle patrol and attempting to root out the rogues. Then again, if they brought too many cats, it was always possible that the rogues attempt to ambush the camp. An interesting situation they were in.

Frostgaze cooly watched as Loudpaw padded up to them, surely about to be just as loud as his name implied. It had been a while since he spoke to the tom, but was inwardly pleased that his jovial nature had not changed. For the morale of the clan, it was decent to have at least one cat that had an optimistic streak that shone like the sun. The warrior had opened his mouth to greet the tom, but was quickly cut off by questioning. An invisible eyebrow shot up, and Frostgaze looked almost amused. Almost. "Hello to you as well Loudpaw. My fur seems to be sticking to me because of the humidity. Greenleaf is... simply not my season. As for my warrior name, I would also assume it is due to the color of my eyes, though warrior names can be for multiple reasons. I am doing well, and my warriorship goes the same." His tone was neutral, but Frostgaze was not opposed to talking with the apprentice. It was logical to be polite to his clanmates.

"As for the heat in Windclan, Mistyfalcon, I suspect that it is a mixture of lighter fur colors and dryer air. The moors are quite dry from what I understand, so perhaps their warriors with longer fur do not suffer as much as the warriors of Shadowclan do. Yes though, it must be terrible." Frostgaze too, found it hard to understand why anyone would wish to live on the moors. He also knew, however, that he was biased toward the night, toward the pines and shade. It was in his blood, in his nature, though cat's wants could change on the drop of a feather.

Loudpaw smiled as Frostgaze answered all his questions, nodding once he finished. He listened to Mistyfalcon bring up the heat and Windclan, Frostgaze commenting as well. He didn't have much to add to the conversation, the heat not making him as uncomfortable as it did for others. The tabby apprentice started to nose through his fur, picking out the bugs. He thought about when the heat would end, which was hopefully soon. After crunching the last beetle he could find he shook out the dirt resting on his pelt. He looked at Frostgaze, wondering what he'd do once he was a warrior. He glanced over at his father, deciding he would spend his time chasing out the rouges out of Shadowclan. Or at least trying.