"Dear Starclan! You'd think your paws were made of stone!"
Nettletooth may not have been officially leading this patrol - but she would be the first to complain in any situation, of course. To her, the group that ran with her was slow; basic clods of the camp. But Sablestar - bless the fool - wanted to change up patrols often. Leaving her with this frustratingly motley crew.
"Oh calm down, Bristlybutt - what's the worse than can happen. Sun's shining...birds tweetin' - besides if I run any faster I'm gonna trip over my own tongue. Phew, Sure is dry innit?" Duskypetal saunter significantly after the rest of the runners on the patrol; maybe it had something to do with his dark coat, or the fact that it was a little more plush than some of the others, but he was certainly feeling the heat.
"Call me that again and you won't have to worry about having a tongue!" She snapped.
"Ouff...touchy today arn't we, jolly jowls?"
"I said QUIET!"
Nettletooth turned her head away with a hiss, taking a deep breath of the air and finding it strangely...acidic.
Turtletongue hadn't been asked to accompany this patrol. He had been resting when they had gathered and started heading out, so to get a bit of wind in his fur he had pulled himself out to join them. He was second guessing his choice now. Must they bicker so much? And must Nettletooth be in such a rush? There was nothing particular going on that they had to watch for, though maybe a Mothclan patrol or two. They had been pushing the border a good bit lately. But otherwise nothing to be worried over.
"Relax Nettletooth. It's hot, so we need to be careful we don't push ourselves too hard. Besides, what is there to rush towards? Let us just enjoy the breeze while we are out." He murmured, shaking his head slightly at the rushing warrior. As if to prove his point, he slowed his rushed pace to a gentle trot. Sometimes he worried about how much his clanmates loved to just... go. It was much better to simply take life as it comes and handle things slowly and carefully. At least, that was what he thought.
As he trotted along though, scent slowly filled the air. Turning towards where the scent was coming from, he froze. There was a flicker in the distance that reminded him of the Monster's eyes. "Impossible. Monsters don't go off of their paths. What is that?" He peered closer, squinting to try and make out what he was seeing. Then it flickered and the scent became just familiar enough to set off his inner alarm bells. "Mothclan is on fire." He said it rather matter of factly to his clan mates, barely enough to really catch their attention. "They will need help!" Seeing the peril that his fellow clan cats could be in, despite them not being clanmates, Turtletongue changed directions and darted towards the flames to help anyone he could towards safety.
Aspencrest headed towards the other warriors, sitting down next to them. "MothClan is on fire?!" , she yowled, then pausing to taste the air. There was the distant scent of smoke, and it could be seen from a distance. Although she had no real relations with MothClan, she didn't want to see the Clan destroyed by the fire. Or, the fire could spread to them. Aspencrest hadn't really seen a forest fire, so she wasn't sure if that was possible. But the fear still lingered in her. She didn't know if she should try and rescue cats or stay here to bring them to safety. But any effort to help them would suffice.
Buckleap had been smirking secretly at the bickering of the cats behind him. He could have told them to shut up, but then it would have been just another border patrol, and where was the fun in that? The tom stepped forward to leave MistClan's scent mark, going through the familiar motions, but stopped at the sound of Nettletooth's harsh tone. The she-cat wasn't usually a face full of flowers, in Buckleap's experience, but there was something off this time.
He flicked an ear and took a deep breath, expecting to find MothClan's scent markers "accidentally" over their own again. The acrid taste that hit the roof of his mouth was even worse. Buckleap narrowed his yellow-green eyes. He looked back to see if any of the others could identify the stench, and his clanmate gave him the answer just as it lit up in his mind. It was smoke, which had been a staple of his life when he'd lived in the Twolegplace, but which he hadn't come across since. Until now.
And there was a simple, good reason for that. There wasn't supposed to be smoke out in the wild. He belatedly nodded at Turtletongue's announcement, taking a moment to register it as urgent because of the matter-of-fact tone he had used. Buckleap nodded again, more vigorously this time, at Aspencrest's exclamation. The warrior could see the smog in the distance if he squinted. By the look of the plumes, the fire was at the heart of the territory. "Yes. They'll need help as soon as possible," he said with certainty. "And we need to know if it's coming this way."
The tabby tom glanced back to the rest of the patrol. "Someone should stay here to tell Sablestar what's happened, when he comes." He assumed his clanmates were perfectly reasonable cats, able to make their own choices about whether or not they wanted to rush at a fire that only seemed to threaten their adversaries, so he didn't bother giving them specific orders. He also didn't tell them 'the rest of you, come with me', but it was implied. Without wasting another heartbeat, he darted off toward MothClan, glad for their flat field that allowed him to use his running skills properly. He couldn't remember exactly where their camp was, having only visited once for a very short time, but he had a feeling he'd run into them before he had to worry about that.
It took Nettletooth a moment for her to place what the smell was - another for her mind to put two and two together and recognize what that scent actually was. For a moment, her heart lept into her throat as she thought; this is her clan. What did this mean for her clan? Were they in danger.
But as her fellow clanmates began to realize what it was - and what it meant - that it was coming from the territory next to them, not IN their territory, she relaxed a bit until finally she shrugged a bit.
"Even if it is coming are way - it wouldn't cross the water. We'll head back and it'll be cut off. We'll be fine."
She went to turn away from the border, but it was Duskypetal who growled this time.
"Wait, what?! We're right here - we could come across and help Mothclan evacuate!"
"And why should I?" She snapped. "Last time I checked, we're Mistclan, not Mothclan. And since it's far away from us - this gives us a chance to head back to camp and warn our clanmates. If it so helps you, we can rally the others to dig a trench - a second blockade. And I we won't stop them coming across the border, so long as they pass right out again soon as possible. But if you think I want to step across that border and get my fur singed for a bunch of cats who left our home to follow Mothstar - then you're nuttier than the last squirrel you ate."
Carried Home is a Warriors roleplay forum. We feature four clans - all four of which have futures that heavily depend on what your characters do - as well as a 50 word count minimum on RP posts, and a functioning currency and shop.
While most of the action does center around our four clans, members are also permitted to make loners, rogues, and kittypets. You can also make both StarClan and Dark Forest characters.