Survival demands caution, but greatness requires daring
⋆｡°✩ ⭒ ──● 𓄿 ●── ⭒ ⋆｡°✩

Skyward eyes carried news long before cats ever did. High above the trees black wings beat and glided between the branches. Keen eyes watched below as ThunderClan's patrol broke from camp at a run, pelts brushing foliage in their haste. Their scents mingled with urgency. RiverClan had struck near Stream Clearing just as planned...

The raven banked silently overhead, never calling out once.

Below the patrol followed the quickest route southwest, paws pounding through familiar trails until the ground beneath them softened. Sandy Hollow waited ahead, its pale basin cradled between rising banks where sightlines disappeared and sound could be coralled. Once the patrol's foot falls galloped over the sand, the raven folded her wings and fell down in a swooping arc, momentarily shadow under the sun as her talons opened.

Two large earthen pods tumbled from her feet - straight onto the ThunderClan patrol below.

Each ruptured into thick clouds of pale brown spores, rolling low across the hollow before blooming upward into choking plumes that swallowed the patrol whole. Visibility was thinned. Every gasp for air tasted heavy and like dirt and blinking stung. Moosestar's voice lifted through the spores, but a blur of cinnamon broke through, barreling from the haze and the chocolate tom was knocked away from the rest of the group.

In his wake, more would come. Jasper, Basilisk, Aurelius, Magdelen, and Cordelia, SkyClan's strike force. Their pelts caught the muted light strangely, certain patches carrying an almost damp sheen while the rest of their pelts were dry...And only on their vitals.

Kosmo's gaze ignored every warrior around him and focused through the confusion erupting within the hollow. Moosestar was the only cat that registered in his vision, the force of his charge knocking the ThunderClan leader away from his patrol.

One life would not end this....Not two...Not three. Today he had come for every heartbeat StarClan had ever stole.

Komso circled the ThunderClan leader without speech, eyes narrowing as he pressed his advantage. Moosestar was momentarily knocked off balance, combined with his confusion and the chaos, was already on his back, claws swiping up towards him. Blood scent quickly filled the air...

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
✧ ⭒ ♦ ⭒ ♖ ⭒ ♦ ⭒ ✧

Duskmantle's paws carried him to a familiar silhouette in the open land of ShadowClan territory. Its trunk was little more than a charred pillar with blackened bark and he paused briefly to sniff at its base to the hollow there.

He'd slipped inside without a second thought when he was young, hidden there from the weather or from passing patrols...But now at his adult size that was no longer happening. With a flick of his tail, Duskmantle abandoned the hollow altogether and instead tested the trunk with his claws and begun to scale it. Guess he'd just have to settle for the view.

From a lower branch he settled, overlooking the marsh as the mid morning breeze stirred the arch of his back.

Be the reason someone smiles today.

∘◦❁◦∘ 𖠑 ∘◦❁◦∘

Beewhisker’s ears twitched as they led Smokepaw to the border of Trespass point, well, WindClan’s side of it anyway. They didn’t look at Smokepaw, how could they? He was the kit of the friend that never left their heart, nor their mind, for the past few moons now, looking at his would make things worse for themself, and they at least wanted to remain composed at the very least, even if that spark that they had before was completely gone, pressed deep by the weight of grief. 

“If you were to see something happen here, or anywhere, you’ll need to know how to report it.” They said, an uncharacteristically blank and motionless tone in their voice as they gestured to the border of Trespass Point. “Not that it matters, unless something big and deadly comes along.” They added with a murmur. Part of them just want to rot in their nest, but another part, bound by duty, stood, they’d just need to finish this. Then go back… now that they can’t rendezvous themselves out of camp now at least. 

Beewhisker was silent for a moment, there was no hope of Cedarpaw returning anymore either, the others had slowly given up the search, but part of them continued to look into the direction of twoleg place… just in case. But then their gaze turned straight ahead, to the border. “If you and I drove off a trespasser, say, a warrior from another clan on our territory, what would you say to Emberdawn or Fawnstar when we got back?”

The show must go on
⤟ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⭒ ♕ ⭒ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⤠

The skies above Whitehart had settled into a blanket of shifting grey, the kind of overcast afternoon that wrapped the village in an acceptable reprieve - just the way Bambi liked it. It was ideal, really.

Clouds meant no harsh sunlight upon his delicate skin. His Lordship Bambi-Bap Mandu, First of His Name strutted on the white side-roads of Whitehart, the pink feathers of his boa collar fluttering gently in the warm breeze where they had become his runway.

Years had passed since the height of his competitive career and age had softened his once fit frame into something... comfortably round - and wrinkly. but that discipline was drilled into him as a kitten. Muscle memory...and beauty deserved rehersal.

He passed the glass of a sliding window where he studied his reflection. Sure his wrinkles say deeper than they had in Seoul, but he was just elder...He was still one hundred percent BamBam.

And he was blissfully unaware that he would meet a new face this day.

 

original lore  || inspired by lord of the rings / game of thrones || living map

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