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(sorry this was so late to get up! Even though there were try-outs, anyone is invited to join in on the Nightclan patrol!)
Setting:
The air was cool and crisp, a full moon hung in the star speckled sky, giving the forest below a silvery glow. Dew was just beginning to set on the blades of grass and on the cobwebs nestled in the darkest corners of Nightclan territory. The night was quiet, a little too quiet. The only sound breaking through the eerie silence was the soothing thundering roar of the waterfalls.
Umbrahound was the leader of the Nightclan moon-high patrol. The patrol was silent throughout their trek through the forest, nothing but the sound of their pawsteps echoing between the trees, until their silence was interrupted by another sound of pawsteps that was coming from in front of them. Umbrahound halted, lifting his tail to signal for the rest of his patrol to do the same. He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the other presence hidden in the shadows. "Hello?" He called out, assuming it was one of his clan mates but not taking any chances on letting his guard down. hals
Floodfate didn't mind the dead silence of the patrol. He was growing used to being up at night, and the shadows weren't as spooky as they once had been; besides, without speech to break the silence, he was alone with his senses. He could only tolerate so much conversation in one night and it was easier to just be living in the moment, listening to the waterfall and the prey around them, though the woods were strangely empty tonight.
His head lifted sharply at the sound of steps and he came to a halt behind Umbrahound, his coat prickling. "That better not be an apprentice sneaking about," he muttered.
Darktalon had followed the patrol quietly. She would pause occasionally to taste the air for any unusual scents before trotting after the rest of her clanmates. For the most part, the dark brown tabby watched what the other cats did on a patrol. She took everything in, making little notes in her head on what was expected of her and figuring out ways to model their actions. But she nearly ran into Floodfate and Umbrahound when the pair suddenly stopped. She quickly pricked her ears up, her pale green eyes flitting back and forth between the underbrush ahead of them. "Could... is it... a... a loner?" She stuttered quietly. "Does... doesn't... smell like... Nightclan..."
working nights gives me a messed up sleep schedule- // Nightclan Deputy
455 posts
Post by hals on Nov 7, 2020 23:03:53 GMT -5
Slight still dazed and wet fur clinging to her frame, Molly stumbled through the darken trees unaware of her surroundings. Her head was pounding and her memory was fuzzy. What happened? The last thing she can recall was the howls of fighting as her and her mate were attacked by a gang of rouges. The feeling of wetness and water dripping into her eyes made her come to the conclusion that she had went over the edge of the bank and into the river. Worry coursed through her immediately. Was her mate okay? What happened after the battle? "H-Hello?" Her voice was strained and tired as she called out. Faintly she could smell the unfamiliar scents of others near by. Her claws unsheathed themselves on instinct in case it was the rouges coming to finish her off.
Umbrahound's fur bristled at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. "Don't come any closer." He commanded her as he beckoned for his clanmates to follow as he took a step toward her. "Do not be alarmed. We do not mean you any harm as long as your intentions are the same." He spoke as he got closer. Now that he can see her completely in the moonlight, now, he could tell that she was drenched and clearly confused. "Whoa. Are you alright? What happened?" He asked, his voice softening as he noticed her condition.
His ears twitched back at Darktalon, and if it wasn't for the tense situation, he might have snapped at her. She may have helped him once, but she was getting on his nerves today. At least Umbrahowl wasn't being so trusting; the small gray tom tensed beside the patrol leader as he saw the loner come into sight.
"Keep your distance," he muttered to the she-cat beside him, his short tail lashing. The she-cat was dripping wet but he didn't believe for a second that was anything except a plot to convince them to let their guard down. She was probably a fleet-footed swimmer and was just looking to take advantage of their hospitality somehow. Raising his voice, he called to Molly, "You're an intruder here. Get lost."
