Blackstar|Leader of Duskclan|One eyed Black Tom|Location: Camp|Mentions: Open
The whistle of the wind was loud through the trees, the leaves a serenade of rustling, sending the dapples of sunlight on the ground into a frenzied dance. It caused the warm rays to vanish in the cool tendrils that snaked around and through the camp, but in the hot days of Green-leaf, the occasional cool was welcome. Blackstar leaped lightly down from where he had been pearched just above the dens of the camp, his dark coat glossy and smooth as it rippled with muscles born from time spent in the wild. The times had been good lately, and it showed in their clan, the health and strength they gained each day, his pride for the cats under his charge constantly brimming in his single golden eye.

For a moment, his ear pricked as he scanned for any unusual sounds, his hearing often far more reliably than his other senses, but all seemed calm. On such a day, it was difficult to feel like anything was out of place, and even Blackstar felt as if a slow morning was a welcome one. Though he knew he would have to start assigning duties and patrols soon, he couldn't help but stretch out his limbs into a stretch, belly sinking to the earthy floor with a satisfied purr. No, the time for work could wait just a few more moments.

 Dustpelt|Warrior of Duskclan|Leggy Calico Tom|Location: Duskclan Territory|Mentions: Open
Another two-leg. Dustpelt groaned as he altered paths once again, to avoid the trail he had been meaning to pass and burying himself deeper into the foliage. The tom didn't have any particular issues with the pressence of the two-legs, not like some of his clanmates or their Dawnclan neighbors, but even he had to admit they made hunting a far less pleasant task when they stomped through, sending the bird he had been so carefully staking back into the saftey of the trees.
"Typical." Dustpelt sighed, though he didn't seem to stay bothered long. He had already managed a mouse and a small songbird, and it wasn't like the clan was hurting for prey. Trotting forward once again, he continued on his way, avoiding the stronger scents of two-legs and avoiding the south all together, heading towards the northern most lake, where two-legs seemed to prefer to sit on the water in small floating objects rather than splash along its shore. what was once a difficult trek for the tom now was traversed with practiced ease, each fallen branch taken at a single leap, each small gap between brambles and stone slipped through. Even the thin rivers that criss crossed the terrain only gave him a moments pause before he padded belly deep into their chilly depths; if with a bit of a grimace. Yet in the warmth of the day, it was refreshing even in their shadowy forest and after a brisk jog, one coudl easily forget the discomfort of fur stuck together in a heavy blanket.
"Now the real question, fish or fur." Dustpelt glanced between the stones that sat in the crystaline waters and along its banks, resting a moment to mull over the decision.


 Foxpaw|Apprentice of Dawnclan|Small Ginger Tabby She-cat|Location: Clan Borders|Mentions: Open

The scent of Duskclan and two-leg mixed in an unpleasant combination within the air. It was the scent that set teeth on edge and fur prickling, and to Foxpaw there was no worse pairing. Her golden glare swiveled across the forest, where the trees began to grow more dense. She knew she was quite close to the border, but she didn't care much, a stubborn wrinkle in her muzzle as she padded along its markers, a few fox lengths in on the Dawnclan side. Though she knew she should probably be back and training, she had at least caught a thrush to prove she hadn't just been messing about. As she neared where the river that curled from Duskclan towards the River rocks, she narrowed her eyes, a glint in her glare. Currently, Duskclan had claim of the stones; but their surface was to tempting and the desire to rub some tension into the rival clans fur was great. With a glance back at her own territory, Foxpaw bounded forward on silent paws, clawing her way up the smooth stones, feeling the warmth spread through their surface into her legs. From the vantage point, she could see part of the way into each clans territory. After a momentary pause, she took a few steps to bring herself onto the stone, rubbing her fur against it, marring the Duskclan scent with her own clans. It was petty and perhaps a silly thing to do, but to Foxpaw it was defiance.

 News/Event for Anyone

Anyone venturing outside of the camp hears two-legs, and they are quite numerous the more south one goes. There are several of the small two-leg nests nestled in the southern half of both clans, but two-legs have been seen wandering further into the territories, some even off the trails they usual stay on. None have been close to either camp however. A peculiar scent is coming from the two-leg nest area however, noticeable ever so slightly from the camps.

Weaselflight | DuskClan Warrior | 21 Moons | Tom | Camp | Dustpelt

Weaselflight's small dainty paws made hunting an easier task than for most. Petite as he was, he made little noise even against the rustling floor of the forest or while moving through water. His little ginger feet with their pale pink pads were one of his greatest assets, certainly more helpful than his shaking voice. He shadowed Dustpelt closely, moving in mostly silence. It was this silent companionship he most enjoyed, found it soothing to not have to worry about keeping his thready voice steady, or getting his sentences out without a stutter. It was silence that had been his best friend for several moons after Darkpaw's death, a certain peaceful place where he did not worry, or feel, or think.

Eventually, though, the silence had gotten to be too much. Dustpelt, then another apprentice, had been his next best bet of friendship, and since then the pair had been doing quite a lot together.

The rank scent of twolegs was strong where they had first reached, and Weaselflight certainly didn't mind their moving. He had learned to fear the smell of his former home, as early on in his apprenticeship, especially in the time just after his brother's death, he had been pulled by the smell, summoned almost. He had wanted to return to that home. He waded through the water and wove through the undergrowth with a practiced ease. As they approached the northern shore, Weaselflight turned to Dustpelt when the other tom spoke.

"Fur is always easier than fishing," he mumbled, "you get less wet after all... less drying out to do."

His whiskers twitched in silence as he contemplated it. "But with fishing we have less tracking to do, it's more of a relaxing endeavor in the end, d-d-doncha think?"
Better safe than sorry

- - - - -

Gingerstar | DawnClan Leader | 36 Moons | Mollie | Camp | Open

Gingerstar's form was partially obscured by the shadows of her den as she studied her clan. Her body was hunched, paws tucked neatly below her chest and narrowed, haunting multi-hued eyes scanning the camp with patience. There was a strange, uncomfortable air this morning, and she did not like that. She did not like it at all. It was hard to pinpoint the exact cause of the feeling, but the pale, ginger tabby patched mollie was beginning to suspect it was coming from a very strange scent. It was a scent that had no right to be leeching into their camp, and she would find the source at some point.

The leader rose onto her paws, venturing forwards into the main body of the camp with a silent air of command. It was hard not to respect her even if she was thoroughly disliked, and the cocky 'I belong in this power' air that Gingerstar carried was hard to dispute. Perhaps it would help combat this... stench that was invading her camp. It was faint, that was for certain, but in the end it was something... and something that needed to be investigated and dealt with. Anything that disturbed her clan, even faintly, was something that deserved to be smacked back into the dust.

Her tail lashed impatiently, and she approached the fresh kill pile. It was edging towards later morning, but she hadn't eaten yet. Carefully she plucked a small mouse from near the edge of the heap, and retreated back towards the edges of camp. She didn't necessarily want or like to eat alone, but it was always a good time to think, and she wouldn't be too harsh on anyone who offered to approach. It was time to think about what to do about the smell... or maybe confer with some of the other cats in camp to see what they thought about it, or if there were any 'bright ideas' to be thrown around. She hunkered, returning to her crouched position, and dug into the mouse.
If you ask too many questions, or seek too much approval, nothing ever gets done

Scorchwing | Warrior of DawnClan | Long-Limbed White & Charcoal Female | Location: DawnClan Territory | Mentions: Gingerstar & Flamepaw [Indirect]

Waiting was, above all else, vexing and maddening. These two-legged stench monsters had infiltrated her hunting routine with their squealing kits plodding gracelessly through the foliage with blindingly bright white snarls and cackling maws as if scaring her prey brought them joy. She was just happy she hadn’t been spotted by the smelly creatures yet. She had tucked herself securely within a rotting log along one of the many paths that ran through the territory. Nuts from the trees had lured what seemed like packs of bushy-tailed squirrels from the safety of their homes and Scorchwing enjoyed picking them off. But today didn’t seem like the day.

So here she was, one of DawnClan’s finest, hiding within a bug-infested log surrounded by particularly smelly fungi. What a start to her day it was. Scorchwing glared through the log’s various chips and holes, watching the vicious, overgrown kits leap and waddle as if they weren’t used to such stubby legs to hold them. With a scowl and a rumbling growl, she tore from her hiding spot as soon as the opportunity presented itself. With risk, sure. But no risk would warn her away from escaping such creatures.

Fallen leaves spun and whorled as they were kicked up from under the fleeing feline, leaving the kits to squeal and bay in her wake. She doubted any prey would be within a mile of these beasts, so she left any possibilities of catching a squirrel to rot with that log and bounded neatly through the trees as she returned to each killed prey she had before the two-legs came clomping by. And, with her collection of three squirrels dangling by their tails, she returned to camp to look forward to her breakfast.

It didn’t take long for her to pluck a plump vole from the pile and flop down without much grace and dug in, peering around lazily, looking for her apprentice. After a moment of half-hearted searching, her olive eyes lingered upon the ginger patched leader, Gingerstar, crouched away from most cats. While the charcoal female held a small wariness for her leader, she still held a great admiration for the mollie.

Harepaw | Apprentice of DuskClan | Small, Hickory & Cream Female | Location: DuskClan Territory | Mentions: Dustpelt [Indirect]

This were going wrong. So, so, so wrong. And in so little time. What a record, she thought dryly, weaving her way through the trees with slow, calculated steps, keeping her body as low as possible without rustling any plants that just had to sprout along her path. What an end this would be, she thought, listening to the baying of the two dogs that had split from their two-leg without much resistance from the furless creature that smelled like sweat and morning mist.

Harepaw had been trying to follow Dustpelt who had an annoying habit of going out before her without asking if she wanted to come along. How was she supposed to learn how to hunt more efficiently with no mentor to show her? And she wasn’t looking for trouble, yet fate had other plans. Like, say, turning her into kibble. With a suppressed sigh, she began to slither further from camp and further from the dogs and their obnoxious sniffing.

Once she had split from the dogs, she took off, her fleet-footed nature guiding her through the windy forest, the whistling gusts covering her escape with ease. Perhaps she should just return to camp and wait patiently for the warrior? It would seem like the responsible thing to do, seeing as she had completely lost his trail a couple of winding paths back. With a pause and a quick look around, she decided against it, heading in the direction she last picked up the scent. She’d be determined about this, just once.

With a deciding nod of her head and a quick, stabilizing sigh, she made a wide turn and headed back. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she was imagining. Maybe, just maybe, fate would ensure she found the tom in the confusing territory she was still trying her best to learn. After all, she did just become an apprentice.

Owlfeather|Duskclan|Deputy|Siamese She-Cat|Location: Territory - Camp|Mention(s) Directly: None|Mention(s) Indirectly: None

The she-cat long sharp claws dug into the soft mud under her paws, a low growl escaped her as the pray she had been eyeing moved forward a bit. Owlfeather was crouched, almost completely hidden, under a juniper bush eyeing a plump squirrel as it was hopping from root to root looking for food. A cold breeze ruffled the branches over her head, the weather had gotten colder recently.
Her ears pricked, as she heard the squirrel move again. The stupid thing had actually moved closer to her, a smile spread on the deputies face. Easy pray. Bunching her muscles, the deputy sprang forward with lightning speed. Quickly reaching the prey, Owlfeather swiftly delivered a killing blow. The fat squirrel dropped to the ground, dead. A bit unsatisfied with the easy kill, the she-cat picked up her kill by its neck. Turning on her heals, the siamese she-cat headed back to camp, but before she could get any further, her head turned at the sudden sound of screaming. It did not sound like a cat, more like two legs. The deputies face tore in a sneer, dropping her pray and burying it under a young spruce tree, the she-cat headed in the direction of the sounds.
As Owlfeather poked her head out of a bramble bush, her ears lay flat. She could see about three large two legs and two kits, the smallest of the kits was prodding with a stick at a round very colorful thing, moving it forward ahead of it. The two legs had become more and more numerous in recent days, they were scaring away pray. Luckily none of them had good deeper into their territory, not yet anyways. The deputy suddenly shrunk back, as she heard the harsh sound of a ogs back drawing closer, Owlfeather's face contorted in a snarl. It would be suicided to take it on her own, but she would need to warn the patrols to watch out for it.
Letting out an exasperated sigh at nothing in particular, Owlfeath turned around and headed out of the bush. Quickly digging up her pray, the deputy headed back to camp. After some time, Owlfeather was walking through the camp entrance. Heading for the fresh-kill pile, Owlfeather dropped her plump squirrel on the pile.

Flamepaw|Dawnclan|Apprentice|Ginger She-Cat|Location: Camp|Mention(s) Directly: None|Mention(s) Indirectly: Fowpaw, Scorchwing, Gingerstar

Flamepaw stretched lazely in her nest, a cool breeze was blowing a bit in to the apprentice den. Blinking the sleep from her blue eyes, the young she-cat looked around her. Foxpaw was already out, how late was she? Hopefully she would not get into any trouble with her mentor. Getting to her paws the ginger she-cat stretched out her legs, letting out a large yawn Flamepaw sat down next to her nest and started picking some bedding from her fur, not that it would really help anything. The ginger she-cats fur somehow was always messy, no matter how hard she tried to clean herself.
Looking more or less representable now, the she-cat stood up and headed for the entrance of the apprentice den. Poking her head out, she was buffeted by a gust of cold wind. Her fur immediately stood on end and, even though the wind could not really penetrated her thick fur, the apprentice started to shiver. Blinking a few times to get the cold out of her eyes, Flamepaw looked around for the other cats in camp. Spotting fist Gingerstar and then her mentor, the young she-cat headed outside.

Ravenblaze | Dawnclan Medicine Cat | 25 Moons | White Green-Eyed Tom | Medicine Cat Den | Gingerstar

Ravenblaze had slept in yet again, laying splayed in his nest with his paws sticking up in the air and a leaf covering his face. His paws shifted as he dreamt, dogs were attacking the clan, and they were coming for him. The leaf shifted its position whenever the medicine cat inhaled or exhaled. It was not until a particularly deep inhale he got the leaf into his mouth and woke up. He was under attack! The dream was coming true! He coughed out the leaf, and shot to his feet. His fur puffed out to scare of a potential enemy. His tactic had worked, the leaf was limp with fear.

Embarrassment warmed the white tom's body when he realised his attacker had merely been a leaf. "Stupid leaf." He murmured to himself, starting to groom his chest fur to relax himself. It was not like him to be so jumpy, but he could blame it all on that strange dream. Maybe he had eaten something the night before that took revenge as he slept. However, the dream had been so lifelike, realistic.

He shrugged it off, he would think about this later. He stretched out before heading out of his den to fetch himself some prey to eat. He quickly noticed that there were other cats in camp, assuming that some of them had gone hunting or border patrolling. He stopped by the fresh-kill pile, considering his choices before picking out a vole. Satisfied with his choice, he padded over to his leader, looking to strike up a conversation. "Morning Gingerstar~!" He purred, starting to eat the vole. He would not mention his dream to the leader, as he was sure it was just, well, a dream.

⇺ [ Hornetpaw ] ⇻
18 Moons |:| Male |:| DawnClan |:| Medicine Cat Apprentice
Location - Outside Camp |:| Mentions - Foxpaw

The young tom’s paws trembled as he lowered his body into a hunter’s crouch, tail raised mere inches above the ground as the tip flicked back and forth anxiously. A light breeze blew toward him, ruffling his striped amber fur as he crept closer to the unsuspecting rabbit grazing a fox length or so ahead of him. His heart raced as he drew nearer, conflicting emotions twisting knots in his stomach. The Clan needed prey. He had to put his personal feelings aside for the time being. Just long enough to catch this rabbit.

Well hidden among the underbrush surrounding him, he was almost within pouncing distance when the rabbit suddenly rose on its hind legs, nose twitching while large ears swiveled. Almost immediately it returned to all four paws and darted away, winding smoothly through the trees. Cursing under his breath, Hornetpaw tore after it. Long legs rapidly carried him across the forest floor, but he was losing stamina, his lungs beginning to burn with the exertion as bramble thorns tugged at his thick pelt and roots snagged on his paws.

The rabbit vanished down a tight burrow, and Hornetpaw flopped onto his hindquarters, shoulders hunched as he struggled to catch his breath. So much for that...' Mingled relief and disappointment washed over him as well as the realization he would need to start all over again if he wished to bring anything home. As a medicine cat apprentice it wasn’t his duty to hunt for the Clan anymore, but honestly...he still felt obligated.

Rising to his paws, he scented the air, searching for anything worth investigating. A gentle rush of wind tugged at his fur, bringing with it the scent of prey, but also something else...something he couldn't quite place. With Twolegs so close they could be heard even from camp, an unusual scent within their territory put him on edge.

Hornetpaw's pelt prickled and his paws kneaded the grass beneath them anxiously. He was reasonably close to the border with DuskClan and could detect their strong odor even from this distance. It wasn't unusual to smell other felines here, but he still wondered whether or not he should check it out. The thought of confronting a potential trespasser wasn't a pleasant one, but he forced himself to move regardless, creeping closer to the border as quietly as possible.

Squeezing between the branches of a large shrub, Hornetpaw peered through the leaves, spotting a ginger shape on the opposite side of the border. His eyes widened upon recognizing Foxpaw, and he scrambled from the brush to call her back as the young she-cat rubbed against rocks of the river. “Foxpaw!” He hissed, barely above a whisper. "What in the name of StarClan are you doing!?”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

⇺ [ Redeye ] ⇻
36 Moons |:| Male |:| DuskClan |:| Warrior
Location - Outside Camp |:| Mentions - Harepaw (Direct) / Dustpelt (Indirect)

Powerful legs propelled the slim tom into the air, front paws outstretched as he reached for the colorful butterfly fluttering above his head. His claws remained sheathed, toes purposefully missing the delicate wings and brushing the insect’s underside instead before Redeye landed neatly. Long tail twitching, he watched the butterfly escape on the wind and rolled onto his side, wriggling in the tall grass like a kit. It was such a beautiful morning, and he wasn’t in any hurry to ruin it by making an appearance in camp where he was sure to be bossed around by the deputy.

He stayed that way for a moment longer, bathing in the light of dawn before the sun’s rays began to hurt his eyes. Rising back to his feet, he swiftly left the clearing behind in favor of the shadows provided by the thick canopy overhead. Several scents and sounds caught his attention briefly as he made his way through the forest, none of them inspiring any interest in the white warrior beyond the despairing howl of dogs in the distance. Whatever they’d been after, they clearly lost it. Curiosity spurred him toward the noise despite the danger, wondering if a juicy piece of prey might now be up for the taking.

Instead of uncovering a fleeing rabbit or squirrel, he collided with a small hickory colored she-cat instead, noticing her scent a little too late. “Sorry about that Harepaw,” he commented once they’d both recovered from the fall, amusement glittering in his gaze. “Mistook you for an actual hare.” Shaking the blades of grass and bits of leaf currently clinging to his sleek pelt free, he eyed the apprentice, noting for the first time she was alone. “Say now, what are you doing out here without Dustpelt?”

Harepaw | Apprentice of DuskClan | Small, Hickory & Cream Female | Location: DuskClan Territory | Mentions: Redeye [Direct], Dustpelt [Indirect]

The howling of the dogs seemed to be fading, prompting her to relax in the slightest. It was a relief her life wouldn’t be ended so soon. As much as she held a weak and wavering belief in StarClan, she had no desire to be proven right or wrong so early. Shifting into a light lope, she began to move with more purpose and direction than before, the waves of terror and mild indignation fleeing from her form. It could be that the bloodlusting canines were the least of her worries now.

No sooner had this thought crossed her mind was she swept off her deft paws by an unseen force. Having not seen her attacker - being lost within the currents of her mind - she was, once again, controlled by the turbulent waves of fear. Had a dog - those smelly, drooling, barbarous fleabags - seriously outsmarted her? The familiar scent that greeted her told the she-cat otherwise. With a relieved sigh, she lifted herself without much grace, her ruffled fur collecting a heap of leaves in the fall.

“It’s alright, I suppose,” she murmured, tugging a leaf out with her teeth before casting it towards the forest floor with a grumble. “Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. I look delicious,” she replied, blinking up at the crimson eyes of the tom, only her eyes giving away her irked mood. More so at herself than the tom she was directing it to. She blew hot air from her parted maw as he asked the question of the morning. “Frolicing peacefully amongst the two-legs and their beasts, obviously.” She glanced around, trying to push away the feeling of unrest that seemed to accompany the ghostly male. Even though he had been here before her apprenticeship, she still got a tad bit unnerved by the appearance of his eyes. “My mentor decided to go hunt without my company, so I decided to try and trail after him like a good little minion. That failed. Epically.”

 Dustpelt|Warrior of Duskclan|Leggy Calico Tom|Location: Duskclan Territory|Mentions: Weaselflight, [id] Harepaw, open

At the sound of Weaselflight's paws and comment, Dustpelt twitched an ear in thought. He had had plenty of water adventures since joining duskclan, and while he had adjusted to the sensation his longer coat made the idea of choosing water a less appealing prospect. Even still, they had already caught some prey and fishing was, after all, a useful skill in the colder moons.
"Fish? I could use a break, avoiding the two-leg scent has us traveling so much further than usual." Shaking his head, the dusty tom padded towards the sandy shore of the small lake, scanning for a good rock or perch. Seeing a fallen log that resisted the gentle rocks of the waters waves, he gestured with his tail, bounding forward without much care about keeping quiet now. Muscles bunched under his coat and with a slight grunt, Dustpelt tossed himself onto the log. A forepaw slipped slightly and dipped into the cool depths before he recovered, long tail helping the tom adjust.
"I'm not sure I'll ever get the hang of this." He purred, watching the water with a tilt of his head.
"Though I figure It's something I should probably teach...Harepaw.." A slight frown crossed his muzzle, and with a guilty flick of his tail, he realized he had left behind the young cat left in his charge, in order to do a morning hunt with Weaselflight. Old habits died hard. He gave a slight cough, looking sheepishly back at the water without another word. For once the usually talkative tom was quiet.


 Foxpaw|Apprentice of Dawnclan|Small Ginger Tabby She-cat|Location: Clan Borders|Mentions: Open

The itch had only just been satisfied when a voice jerked Foxpaw from her bliss. For a moment, she prepared to run, legs flailing as she flipped over onto her paws, muzzle wrinkled and eyes flashing dangerously for the threat. Yet, the reaction was rather unneeded as she peered over the rocks, the figure of Hornetpaw peering up at her in shock.
Naturally, it had to be that cat who had found her. Shrugging her shoulders to relax her ruffled fur, Foxpaw settled onto her haunches, raising a paw to swipe it over her face a few times as if she hadn't just had a start.
"I figured you could tell when a cat was scratching an itch." Her voice contained its usual coolness, the haughty air of a cat who thought highly of themselves.
"I was just using what is rightfully ours to do it." She lowered her paw and rose, giving her claws a few good scratches on the stone before leaping lightly down, to trot closer to Hornetpaw, where she paused.
"I could ask you the same question. I didn't know medicine-cat apprentices could go out alone. I mean, the woods is filled with big scary creatures and cats." She glanced at the border with Duskclan, rolling her eyes.
"Or have you decided to give up that boring life and come be a warrior?" she mused, and though the teasing words could have been playful, even light and joking from another cat, from Foxpaw they were cutting and filled with an almost mocking air.

(Short sorry!!!)

Larkclaw
15 Moons || Female || DawnClan Warrior
Location: Outside Camp || Mentions: Hornetpaw, Foxpaw

Larkclaw had headed out of camp earlier with Hornetpaw, both intent on catching some prey for the Clan. She was aware that her uncle didn’t like harming creatures, even prey, and she was prepared to do what she could if he began to feel uneasy about killing whatever he found. As they scouted the forest over twigs and around bushes, Larkclaw had caught the scent of a few mice, and had signaled for Hornetpaw to continue on ahead. She would catch up later.

The most unfortunate part about hunting today was that the wind kept gusting heavily through the trees, making the prey jumpy. They wouldn’t stay out too long when it was this hard to scent or hear their doom. Creeping closer, she peered over a patch of tall grass to see three mice scurrying around some tree roots, sniffing for seeds or anything else they could eat. As she suspected, they kept darting into their den under one of the roots.

The tabby she-cat circled around, tiptoeing nearer to the mouth of the tiny den. Legs ready to spring, she waited until the second one ran out from the hole again, pounding on it and startling the other two. With a quick bite, she dispatched the one beneath her paws and swung a paw out at the mouse that had been in front of this one, but it just barely got out of the way. Larkclaw’s head swung around to see a thin tail disappearing into the dark den, and she plunged her claws down into it. They caught on the mouse’s back and it squealed as she dragged it out, until she silenced it and laid it beside the other.

The third mouse had gotten away, but she was satisfied with these two. She looked for a tree that stood out and chose one with a peculiar knot in its trunk, burying her prey nearby so she could come back for it later even if the wind masked where it was hidden. Now it was time to find Hornetpaw.

Returning to the trail they had been on, she put her nose close to the ground. Thankfully there was still a faint trace of her uncle’s scent where his paws had touched the ground. Larkclaw followed it, at one point ending in a rabbit warren that smelled fresh with fear. She had to step back several tail-lengths to get that out of her nose so she could continue her search for Hornetpaw. Then she began to notice it seemed like her tracking was leading her to the DuskClan border… Oh, no.

She picked up her pace, worried that he might encounter a patrol. As she neared the border, she slowed down and pressed her ears forward. There weren't any signs of fighting, but she did hear the cocky voice of Foxpaw on the other side. With a flick of her ear, Larkclaw decided that after Foxpaw's comment about Hornetpaw finally becoming a warrior, she would show herself, pushing through the bush.

"He's not alone," she told the apprentice calmly, coming to stand beside Hornetpaw. "But even if he was, he'd be fine. Medicine cats know how to defend themselves on top of being able to heal their imprudent clanmates."

⇺ [ Hornetpaw ] ⇻
18 Moons |:| Male |:| DawnClan |:| Medicine Cat Apprentice
Location - Outside Camp |:| Mentions - Foxpaw, Larkclaw (Direct) / Gingerstar (Indirect)

Hornetpaw came skidding to halt just inches from the border, fur fluffed in mingled annoyance and anxiety. Foxpaw always seemed to be pushing the line, but this time the younger apprentice had gone too far! Her reaction was expectedly aggressive, fading into something disdainful and icy once recognition dawned on her features. Dislike itched beneath his pelt, and it took quite a great deal of restraint to keep from sneering back at her.

“You, and most of the Clan, might feel like they belong to us, but right now the stones are in DuskClan's territory. You’re lucky no cat spotted you! Your scent being there is bad enough. Tensions are already high, and you might have just added fuel to the fire. Do you think Gingerstar will appreciate such petty stupidity?” He asked, his tone severe and ears flattening against his skull. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be so outspoken, but the thought of a potential battle constantly looming over the Clan had left him uneasy and stressed for as long as he could remember.

Her next few comments nearly had his temper flaring when Larkclaw appeared from the underbrush, offering a snarky reply in his place. He found this was probably for the best. His niece’s comeback was sharp, but level-headed. Hornetpaw's own response likely would have been more cross. “Precisely. I received full warrior training and would already have my warrior name if I’d stayed on that path. I can take care of myself. You, however, are clearly still in the mindset of a kit. So we’ll be escorting you back to camp. Now. Don’t think Gingerstar won’t hear about this either.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

⇺ [ Redeye ] ⇻
36 Moons |:| Male |:| DuskClan |:| Warrior
Location - Outside Camp |:| Mentions - Harepaw (Direct) / Dustpelt (Indirect)

A soft snicker followed Harepaw’s sarcastic response, his tail curling in mirth. The white tom was never quick to take offense, even the harshest of comments leaving him unfazed. It appeared this conversation would be no different. Her discomfort hadn’t gone overlooked either, but Redye gave no indication he noticed. Such a reaction wasn’t unfamiliar, he was more than aware many of his Clanmates had little desire to be alone with him.

“Quite inconsiderate of him,” Redeye replied, settling back on his haunches and nipping at a burr that had caught between his toes during his mad dash. “All the same, you shouldn’t make a habit of wandering out of camp alone. Not with so many dangers lurking in the shadows. Between two-legs, their mutts and DawnClan there are many potential threats just waiting for a fine young cat like yourself to wander off alone.” His words were ominous, eyes glinting mischievously as if purposefully trying to spook her.

“You needn’t consider it a failure just yet my dear! I shall help you complete this quest,” he added moments later, his tone growing much cheerier as if he hadn’t just tried to strike the fear of StarClan into the young she-cat. “Come along Harepaw! I believe I saw Dustpelt head this way earlier,” he beckoned before leaping to his paws and plunging back into the surrounding foliage.

Weaselflight | DuskClan Warrior | 21 Moons | Tom | Camp | Dustpelt

Weaselflight dipped his head understandingly when Dustpelt responded, opting for a new fishing adventure. Weaselflight's coat wasn't quite long, but it was far from short. He was beginning to produce an oily layer over his pelt, allowing him to shed water a bit easier than when he had joined DuskClan, but he still spent the vast majority of his time after fishing grooming out his tangled tail and refluffing his damp coat. He followed his friend along the rocky shore, his little paws bumping the stones slightly as he passed.

He blinked when he heard Dustpelt's splashy leap onto the log. He smiled faintly, and lightly bounded up next to Dustpelt. Unlike his tortoiseshell companion, he was rather good at anything to do with balance. Where his voice shook like a leaf in fall, his paws were unusually steady for a former kittypet. He twitched his whiskers at his friend's voice, and smiled faintly. He froze for a moment when the apprentice was brought up.

"M-my bad," he stammered, "I should have r-reminded you to bring her out with us. O-or not gone at all, maybe some one-on-one time w-w-would be good for you and Harepaw." He could feel guilt leech into his chest. A mentor-apprentice relationship was one that went almost as deep as blood ties. Who was he to be disturbing the relationship his friend had just been given the chance to participate in? He flicked his tail quietly, flipping around to face the other direction. His gaze scanned the water silently, but he wasn't paying attention, not really.
Better safe than sorry

- - - - -

Gingerstar | DawnClan Leader | 36 Moons | Mollie | Camp | Ravenblaze; Umbraclaw

Gingerstar's multi-hued gaze flicked upwards when her medicine cat spoke. She slightly inclined her head, just faintly enough that he could see it but enough to show that she really did not find his company the most exciting. The brilliant white tom was simply blinding in sunlight. At least her own fur was cream enough that it did not present the same blinding prism of light that Ravenblaze's did. She would not, however, protest to his presence, at least not this dawn. This wretched scent required input from whichever cat had been put in a position of power within her clan. Ravenblaze wouldn't have been her choice as an adviser, but he was StarClan's, and she had no argument with them no matter how she wished.

Ravenblaze didn't eat too close to her, for that she was grateful. She did not particularly enjoy taking her meals with any cat, except for maybe Umbraclaw.

Speak of the devil, or rather think of her, and she shall appear. Umbraclaw's sleek black form slipped from the warrior's den, snatched a vole, and approached the leader and medicine cat in their resting positions. She once again inclined her head, this time much more than towards Ravenblaze, a nod that greeted her and welcomed her to rest nearby. Close enough to show their closeness and their ranks.

She listened to Umbraclaw's voice in silence as the mollie voiced her concerns, the same concerns which Gingerstar herself had been experiencing all morning. As she listened, she chewed thoughtfully on her breakfast. As Umbraclaw's voice dwindled off, the leader spoke. "Before making any decisions," she mused in a voice still rather thick and slow from the morning, "I think we need to speak to the elders and senior warriors. See if they recognize the smell."

She turned. "Ravenblaze," she addressed the medicine cat in a firm tone of voice, not particularly friendly or welcoming, "What do you think of this... peculiar situation... What can you offer us?" Despite her cocky nature, she placed a good amount of stock in what the older cats of her clan had to say. They had made it through a lifetime of servitude, they must have some wisdom to offer after having pulled that off.
If you ask too many questions, or seek too much approval, nothing ever gets done

Owlfeather|Duskclan|Deputy|Siamese She-Cat|Location: Camp|Mention(s) Directly: Blackstar|Mention(s) Indirectly: Duskclan

As the deputy looked up from the fresh-kill pile, her eyes scanned the camp. It was early, still barely anyone seemed to be in the camp. To be honest, the deputy could not fault her clanmates, the weather was good and the pray was running well enough. Stretching herself, Owlfeather started to lick her fur clean of the small leaves and other debri sticking to her pelt.
Once she was done, the siamese she-cat grabbed a fat rabbit and started off in the direction of Blackstar. Reaching her leaders side, the she-cat dipped her head. "Good morning Blackstar", the deputy purred, setting the pray down beside the tom. Sitting down next to her leader, Owlfeather looked over the camp. Everything was peaceful. Angeling her ears in the direction of the lake sitting close to the Duskclan camp, the she-cat could've sworn she heard voices drifting over on the wind. Some of the warriors must be out fishing, Owlfeather thought. She hoped that they were careful, the deputy was aware that most, if not all, of Duskclan cats knew how to swim, still.... Owlfeather was not keen on losing a clan member to the water. Shuffling her paws, Owlfeather let out a sigh. She liked that it was peaceful, still sometimes it got too boring. Maybe, once some of the warriors came back to camp, she'd lead a patrol out.

Flamepaw|Dawnclan|Apprentice|Ginger She-Cat|Location: Camp|Mention(s) Directly: Scorchwing|Mention(s) Indirectly: Gingerstar, Umbraclaw, Ravenblaze, Foxpaw

The ginger she-cat walked over to her mentors side, sitting down next to Scorchwing the young she-cat looked at her expectantly. Shuffling her paws on the soft ground under her, Flamepaw tried to hide her excitement. "What are we going to do today?", the ginger she-cat asked. Flamepaw was close to being done with her apprentice training, she was already 13 Moons old after all. Still, on beautiful days like this the she-cat felt an itch under her pelt that made her act more like an over excited kit, than almost a warrior. Waiting for her mentors response, Flamepaw looked around the camp. A few cats seemed to be already out, a small huff of annoyance left Flamepaw as she realised Foxpaw had already left camp. She could've at least woken me up, Flamepaw thought. She'd definitely get her revenge later on.
As her eyes drifted over to the other side of the camp, Flamepaw's gaze rested on Gingerstar, Umbraclaw, and Ravenblaze. It must be great having such high positions, the young she-cat thought. Her dream had always been, to become the leader of Dawnclan when she was older. Then again, maybe she would just be fine becoming deputy. A small voice in her head chitted Flamepaw, 'For that to ever happen, you'd have to become a warrior and considering how you are still acting like a little kit going out on her first hunt, that seems far off.' Flamepaw gave a scolding look down at her paws, she really hated her inner voice. She would become a warrior and she would be great! A different spark sprang to life, in the depths of her blue eyes. Looking back up, Flamepaw filled her lungs with the cool fresh air swirling around her. It would be a good day, the young ginger she-cat decided.

  Blackstar|Leader of Duskclan|One eyed Black Tom|Location: Camp|Mentions: Owlfeather
Blackstar had been dozing slightly, his eye narrowed in and head on his paws before the sound of pawsteps roused him from the daydreams of clan grandeur the tom often had. Blinking the haze from his vision, he turned his head to watch as Owlfeather approached with a greeting, giving his own purr of welcome in return.
"Hows the prey running, Owlfeather?" He mewed, eye glancing towards the rabbit in an amused gesture. It was a rhetorical question, as the prey had been rather good despite the two-legs tramping about the terrain during the warm days of green-leaf. Stretching his forepaws so that his claws extended in a stretch, Blackstar pushed himself from his laying position to pull his legs underneath his body, more alert now that he had reason to.
"I want to make sure the River Stones are marked again on the evening patrol, I know its been a some time since we won that piece of territory, but I want Dawnclan to really get the message that those rocks are ours." The tip of his tail twitched in thought as he looked out over the camp, as if seeing through the brambles that made up the lower 'wall'.
"Sootpaw will also need a final assessment, having a new warrior around will also show that we are thriving." He purred, knowing it was Owlfeather who had shared her knowledge of both rogue, and clan life onto the young cat. Even if he had his own reservations on the she-cat when she had first joined the clan, he could hardly have asked for a better deputy to be watching his back. He paused thoughtfully, then glanced at the other cat, an amused glint in his eye.
"But now that business is over, how are you, Owlfeather?" He regarded her with his scanning gaze, a softness in his eyes reserved for those of his clan, the cats he truly cared about.

 Dustpelt|Warrior of Duskclan|Leggy Calico Tom|Location: Duskclan Territory|Mentions: Weaselflight, Harepaw, Redeye

Dustpelt twitched an ear and tapped at the water, but the silence between him and his friend was to much. After a beat, he turned his head and padded a few paces, giving the other tom a rough but affectionate shove with his head.
"Mouesbrain. It's my responsibility. Kitty-pet roots are hard to get rid of I guess." He mused, leaning back and giving the water a last rather scathing glance. In the distance, an odd floating figure emerged from the opposite river, a two-leg in some sort of contraption quietly bobbing into the lake. They were far enough away that Dustpelt didn't panic, but he knew they could cross the water rather swiftly.

"C'mon. Let's go. Fish isn't that good anyway." He purred, squeezing past the other tom to leap down, landing in the sandy dirt with a huff. He didn't however, seem in any rush to go as the wind changed direction, on its drafts blowing a new scent their way. It wasn't quite like the two-leg scent, though it contained traces lingering in its depths. No, it was layered, sharp and both unpleasant and appealing. Dustpelt only caught it for a moment, before it passed.
Dustpelt raised his head to try and catch the scent again, curious if he had imagined it.


 Foxpaw|Apprentice of Dawnclan|Small Ginger Tabby She-cat|Location: Clan Borders|Mentions: Hornetpaw, Larkclaw

Foxpaw had bristled slightly, but at the apperance of Larkclaw let her fur lie flat. She didn't however, try to disguise the rolling of her eyes at Larkclaws words. They had spent much time as apprentices together, but the pair had often butted head due to their outspoken natures. That, and Foxpaw didn't trust the she-cat, she seemed far to friendly on the topic of their neighbors. She was going to retort when Hornetpaw commented, and the medicine-cat apprentices words caused her muzzle to curl in annoyance.
"Having a warrior name doesn't always mean you're cut out for it." She said lightly, the words suddenly sweet but her eyes glancing pointedly between the two. However, even she knew when to listen and despite their nearness in age, Larkclaw was a warrior and to defy her would potentially mean getting Umbraclaws wrath.
"But escort way if it makes you feel better. Though I left a piece of prey back near the training beach. " With that, she moved forward, back towards the buried prey. It was the direction of the camp, so it wouldn't cause much of a detour.
~~~
 Events!
 Even for: Redeye, Harepaw, Weaselflight
There is something peculiar smelling in the air, carried along by the winds. Catching the scent will lead you towards the border with Dawnclan near the bridge that is a crossing between the two clans. It's nearly impossibly to identify, but may give the feelings of discontent.

Even for: Hornetpaw, Larkclaw
On the way back through the forest, you may catch the scent of blood on the air. It will be faint, but it will lead towards the bridge in their territory that crossing one of the rivers, slightly south east of the camp. There is a faintly sweet scent as well, that may cause the feeling discontent. The sweet scent is fainter, and seemed to be further south, hard to track.

Owlfeather|Duskclan|Deputy|Siamese She-Cat|Location: Camp|Mention(s) Directly: Blackstar, NPCs|Mention(s) Indirectly: Sootpaw, Dawnclan

The she-cat inclined her head, at her leaders question, "Very well, especially considering that the two-legs are coming closer to the forest", Owlfeather answered. Owlfeather looked down at the rabbit, as Blackstar continued to speak. The she-cat glanced in the direction of the River Stones, her claws sheathed and unsheathed as the memory of the battle for the stones came back to her. Had the fight with Dawnclan been worth it, just for that little spot of land? Owlfeather shuffled her paws, weather it was or not, the battle had been won some time ago and it had definitely proved that Duskclan was strong. The deputy nodded her head, "I will send some of the warriors out later, to mark the River Stones again", Owlfeather said, agreeing with Blackstar that they need to make sure Dawnclan got the message, that the River Stones where now Duskclan territory.
A proud smile came to the she-cats face and a small purr emitted from Owlfeathers chest, at the leaders mention of her apprentice. Sootpaw had been training hard and definitely deserved to be made a warrior, as long as Sootpaw passed the assignment of course. She wondered what her apprentices assessment might entail, he would probably have to hunt on his own. Owlfeather tried to hide her pride, as Blackstar looked over at her. She noticed the amusement in her leaders eyes, Owlfeather cleared her throat. "I'm alright. I was able to go out hunting, before all the cats in camp stirred awake", Owlfeather nodded her head to the fresh-kill pile. "I was able to catch a nice plump squirrel, also....", Owlfeather hesitated for a few heartbeats, before continuing, "I spotted two-legs close to clan territory near the cavern, two large ones and two kits. They also had a dog with them, I'll send a patrol in that direction, just to make sure that they did not stay", the deputy said, informing the leader of her sightings.
The siamese she-cats ear twitched, as she heard cats coming out of the warriors den. Getting to her paws, Owlfeather stretched herself. Before jumping off their perch, the she-cat turned to Blackstar. "I'll arrange the hunting and border patrols. Please eat, before you take on your regular duties of the day", Owlfeather advised, nodding to the rabbit. The deputy knew that the one eyes black tom was always concentrated on his role as leader, sometimes even not eating well.
Swishing her tail from side to side, Owlfeather jumped off and made her way across camp to the warriors that had just come out of the warriors den. "Clovershine, Brambletail, and Fawnpelt, I want the three of you to go on border patrol, make sure to be careful near the cavern. I spotted some two legs and a dog there earlier. Adderflight and Cherrysong, I want both of you to head out on a hunting patrol, pray is running well so it should be easy hunting", Owlfeather said, directing the patrols. Letting her eyes sweep over to the apprentice den, the she-cat wondered if Sootpaw was still asleep or if her apprentice had headed out on his own.