Private Thread Talking to the Trees

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall heard her before she spoke, a faint huff. He didn’t mind the silence, not really. Patrols went smoother when cats kept their ears open instead of filling the air with noise. But he could feel the tension in Brindlespice like static clinging to her fur and he wasn’t oblivious enough to pretend it wasn’t there.

When she finally broke the quiet with her lilting question, Oaktall’s ear flicked, and he slowed just enough to angle her a glance. Her tone was light, but he caught the thread beneath it.

"Kestrelswipe didn’t tell me anything complicated." He replied, voice low and even. "Just a sweep along border to Sunning Rocks."

A small shrug rolled off his broad shoulders. His tail swayed once behind him as they padded the familiar route that they shared with RiverClan. "Not many twists or turns on this route. Even if you didn’t catch all of it this morning."

His tone was a sort of gentle shove back, the sort of mild ribbing warriors gave each other when they weren’t sure whether friendship was on the table yet. His blue eyes became a bit shadowed before a smile lifted his muzzle in a grin. "Wouldn't mind running into that rogue though. Would be nice to justify some revenge."

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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Brindlespice didn't answer, not in the typical snarky way she did, but instead, she just twitched her ears, as sign she was at least hearing Oaktall. She knew better than to simply ignore the patrol leader with the killer still on the loose. "Some kind of poetic justice for Cottonlily if we killed the rogue here. She'd better be prepared if we catch up to her, I'm not going to let her go until she's dead of running off wailing like a kit." Brindlespice replied, the creamy tip of her tail twitching, not in irritation, but in anticipation, as if she were daring the rogue to show her sleezy face.

The river rushed calmly at their side and she glanced to the side at it, another thing was RiverClan, she wouldn't put it past Coldstar to instruct an attack to take it back, but as much as she wanted him to, she wouldn't think he'd be so stupid as to attack them while every clan was at their most alert. He might be mouse-brained enough to challenge ThunderClan but he couldn't be that mouse-brained.

"I'd be more than satisfied to get my claws into any trespasser's pelt. Rip them up some and make sure they remember my face." She growled, her tail lashing like an angry flag waving in a storm. "These rogues get bolder each moon." she added, her amber eyes surveying the area as they passed it. Nothing. Disappointing, but reassuring she supposed.

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall listened, letting Brindlespice’s words roll out like heat from a brushfire. Everything about her conviction rang true and it didn't surprise him. Fierceness ran deep in most ThunderClan cats, deeper still in those with the same old bloodlines he carried. What did surprise him was how raw her anger was beneath it, how personal it seemed to the she-cat.

He dipped his head once in acknowledgment. "Cottonlily certainly deserves justice. And if this rogue shows her face again I won’t waste breath trying to talk her down."

He padded onwards, careful not to get his feet wet. "But luck’s been on our side that she seems to be acting alone. If she had a group behind her… It'd be much worse."

His blue eyes swept the brush, ears pricked, but the forest offered nothing - no rogue scent, not even strong RiverClan scent. That was when he glanced down at her, a bit curiously... the kind of look Quailcall used to give him when trying to measure the truth of his convictions.

"Tell me something, Brindlespice. If it wasn’t a rogue we crossed paths with if it was a WindClan cat or a RiverClan cat nosing too close - would it make a difference to you?"

He let the question sit only a heartbeat before narrowing the point: "You speak like every trespasser ought to be taught a lesson. Do you think all strangers deserve that treatment? Or just this one?"

He wasn't trying to be confrontational. Maybe it was only an exercise to not let her anger go unexamined. He flicked his tail once as he paused to refresh the scent. "No wrong answer...just trying to know where you stand."

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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"It'd be worse if the trespasser were from another clan. They know their borders, they need to stick to them." Brindlespice replied, keeping pace with Oaktall, not for his sake, but because she didn't care much for being the forest alone when the killer was but a scent away. She'd rather have protected herself than anything else. "If any other clan cats think it's a fine idea to travel to ThunderClan territory they'd better hope I'm not scanning the border." Brindlespice flexed her claws into the dirt, then sheathed them, a silent telling of her position.

Brindlespice's dappled coat rippled as her muscles rolled beneath her fur, more anticipation of any rogue or any trespasser rather than any kind of excursion. Great StarClan, when would she be able to be in an actual fight for once.

She moved her amber glare over to Oaktall, not scrutinizing or angry, but focused, as if she was trying to read something that wasn't obvious. "And what of you? What would you do with a trespasser Oaktall?" She chimed, her exaggerated sweetness threading back through her voice.

Brindlespice ran her claws along the ground, upturning the dirt as they walked, and as she waited for Oaktall to answer the question he had asked her. She was interested in how he would answer, wondered if she would share the same thoughts as him. Or if this would be another different that they had.

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall nodded without so much as a twitch of disagreement. Her stance was clear and almost predictable for a ThunderClan warrior. But still worth hearing out loud.

When she asked the question back at him, her sickly-sweet tone layered over something sharper, Oaktall's whiskers twitched. At least she wasn't dull. He gave the ground one thoughtful sniff before speaking.

"What I do with a trespasser depends on what they're doing." His tone was simple. "If it's a lost apprentice who stepped over the line by mistake, I escort them out. Just make it clear ThunderClan doesn't tolerate carelessness."

He stepped over a fallen branch, his stride never faltering. "If it's someone stealing prey or scouting our territory's defenses, they get a shredded ear." Despite every inflection, his voice stayed even.

"Rogues...That depends on whether they're desperate or dangerous. The one who killed Cottonlily and attacked Quailcall falls into the second category. I would happily end her life." He didn't bother to hide that edge. Some cats deserved mercy. Some didn’t earn it.

"I don't treat every stranger the same way. Not all of them come here with the same intent." He could feel her energy buzzing beside him, that hunger for a real fight. He didn't judge it ... he understood it. But he didn't let it steer him.

"You, though, sound like you'd claw first and ask questions later." His muzzle rolled into an easy smile, not intending it to be insulting. Maybe just a little tease. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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As Oaktall drew on, Brindlespice couldn’t help but wonder what the whole point of the question even was, why she had returned the query, why she had even spoken in the first place, but she didn’t growl or huff this time. Instead, her ears tipped forward, he was teasing her, and she didn’t seem to be opposed to a playful tease between Clanmates, especially when it pulled some kind of reaction.

"Wrong? No. Boring? Probably." She shot back, the tease evident in the voice she returned to him, gracefully stepping over the twig Oaktall had so easily avoided. Angling her nose higher, she tried to smell something, anything that wouldn’t make this patrol ‘the usual’ she didn’t want this to be nothing special, but in most cases, she had no choice in the matter. She trusted in what StarClan had to debate on what happened next. To her, to Oaktall, to ThunderClan.

Brindlespice slipped in closer to the chocolate sepia tom, her whiskers twitching as they missed his pelt by a mouse tail. "Enough of any of that," she began, rolling her tongue to that smooth, cunning cadence she displayed when she was border, or perhaps, a little intrigued by possible gossip that could be held in story. "Anything you’ve heard across camp? Anything you’ve seen? Got anything for me today Oaktall?"

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall huffed a quiet breath through his nose. If nothing else Brindlespice knew how to keep things moving. The way she slipped closer didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't tense or pull away. If she was testing the space between them he didn’t mind meeting her halfway.

"Probably." He agreed easily, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I've been called worse."

Gossip wasn't usually his interest, but observation was. And he'd always believed that knowing the state of one's clan mattered just as much as knowing its borders.

"Couple things. I noticed Spidertongue didn’t leave his nest yesterday. He waved me off at the end of the day." He hoped the tom was alright, probably. It still stuck with him.

They moved on, river murmuring beside them, and Oaktall kept his eyes forward as he continued. "And I watched Bravesong nearly walk straight into the elders' den entrance this morning." A faint snort escaped him. "Could’ve just been tired but I hope his eyesight’s not starting to go in that one eye of his."

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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Brindlespice's jaw twitched as Oaktall began to smile. It wasn't quite a smile, but she wasn't bored, that was something he could carry with him however he'd like. With a faint twitch on an ear, Brindlespice listened to how Spidertongue had blown Oaktall off so easily and narrowed her eyes, a smirk, a real one, appearing on her face. Now this was getting interesting.

"He's like that, if I had to guess. Unless there are secrets he isn't telling the clan. His time in the territories aren't long, he shouldn't be wasting them moping about like a drenched rat." Brindlespice pointed out, she cast a look to Oaktall, studying him as he mentioned her half brother. He was old but he wasn't that old, she thought to herself as her clanmate mentioned the possibility of Bravesong going completely blind. She didn't prefer it, but it'd be better than him dying.

She nodded her head in acknowledgment, then turned it to him, wondering what exactly was so interesting in front of him that he wouldn't make any form of eye contact, not once. "Bravesong, as I've heard, was a clumsy kit, I'm not surprised that carried." Brindlespice's voice came at clear, concise, like she was certain about every word. "What's got me more interested is Orchidflame."

The way that the calico seemed to be much more careful with herself hadn't gone unnoticed by Brindlespice, she also seemed in a better mood than usual. Sleeping less, eating more. It intrigued her, and she wondered if Oaktall had noticed to. She didn't say more, hoping that Oaktall would connect the dots himself.

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall finally glanced over at her then, drawn by the shift in her tone more than the words themselves. Brindlespice rarely lingered on a subject without reason, and the way she said Orchidflame's name carried weight.

He slowed his pace a fraction, enough that the river’s rush seemed louder in the pause that followed. His gaze drifted back ahead but his ears stayed angled toward her.

"I noticed it too. She is eating more. I saw her take a second vole yesterday and not apologize for it."

His whiskers twitched. As far as he was concerned Orchidflame could take as many voles as she could eat. He considered that for a moment longer, his own thoughts punctuated with ligth sweeps of his tail.

"Could be stress." He went on, voice low "Or something she hasn't shared yet. I don't like guessing where it could lead but I do think it’s worth keeping an eye on."

His blue eyes cut back to Brindlespice again, this time holding her gaze. "You thinking it's something to worry about or just something worth noticing before it turns into one?"

He didn't press further. Oaktall had learned that some truths surfaced best when given space and Brindlespice had just planted the seed.

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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Brindlespice, a rare, but agreeing nod. It wasn't much, but it was noticeable for her, especially for Brindlespice. "Thought it was worth mentioning, since Gingerthrash complained he didn't get the vole he tried picking out from the pile." she curled her whiskers into an amused smile. Gingerthrash's seniority was clouding his perception of how prey worked. But the spirit was there. "He's just getting old and cranky if you ask me."

Amber eyes narrowed as he spoke more, focus and intrigue sparking in the amber fire they cast in the sunlight. "She moves a bit more carefully to, like she's preparing for something she doesn't even know about. A little odd." She added, meeting Oaktall's pace and flicking her ears as the volume of the river seemed to pitch louder, as if it was trying to outdo the gossip with its own opinions. RiverClan can have that river, she'd rather not get her paws wet getting too close. It would be the fight and bragging rights she'd enjoy most.

"Just something worth thinking about." She answered, letting her long-limbed body carry her forward until the roaring of the river beside them faded softly. How could RiverClan cats even hear one another when they're by the river, she hardly heard Oaktall though the noise and she wasn't even beside it.

However, it did surprise her that she found herself thinking of what the senior warrior would share next, as if this was the type of information that she had been searching for since the beginning of the moon. She wondered why that was...

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall let out a low huff at the mention of Gingerthrash, something close to a chuckle. The image was easy enough to picture, and it softened the edge of the conversation without dulling it.

"That sounds like him...Prey piles haven’t respected seniority in a long time."

He walked on beside her, matching her pace without thinking about it. Brindlespice’s observations lingered with him. She had an eye for patterns even if she pretended not to care much for them. "Joints maybe...? It's good that she seems to have lots of company in the Elder's den at least."

After a momentOaktall spoke again. "You spent much time with Rimepaw lately?" He didn’t look at her right away, eyes scanning the undergrowth briefly for an excuse to throw himself into action.

"I think you two might get along. She is kin after all."

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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Brindlespice hummed, a subtle hum that wasn't agreement, nor was it condescension, just something entirely it's own as they walked. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Time will only tell us if Orchidflame doesn't" the pale tortie trilled, taking a few paces ahead of Oaktall, as if she was trying to see if he was able to keep up with her. In both conversation, and pace, a test.

Her ears twitched at the mention of apprentices and shrugged "I won't go out of my way to speak to an apprentice for no reason, Oaktall. She comes to me or we don't talk" she noted, something that would sound harsh if it weren't for the honey that she placed into her tone, something purposefully placed so it didn't sound like she was purposefully avoiding Rimepaw, she just didn't have anything worth her time it seemed, not yet anyway.

"Kin." Brindlespice repeated, saying the word like she couldn't quite figure out how well it would fit in her mouth. "I've got my sisters, I've got Bravesong, the rest is complicated." she replied with finality. She swore by StarClan that she seemed to hear this Fierceblood nonsense every time she left her den. And she definitely took notice of how Gingerthrash could barely stop talking about it.

"So what if we both descended from Bloodstar, he made an impact of course but what does that have to do with what happens now?" She asked, a bit a what got her name touched her tone with a soft growl. "All high and mighty for what? Some title? I would rather talk about something interesting."

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall didn't bristle at the edge in her voice. If anything, he seemed to settle into it, shoulders loose, stride steady as he closed the small distance she'd put between them without turning it into a contest.

He let a breath out through his nose before answering. "I'm not talking about titles...Or being high and mighty."

His blue eyes lifted briefly, tracking the canopy overhead where the light broke through in scattered patches. His gaze was measuring something far more tangible than just the sky.

"Our old kin are in StarClan now whether we like it or not. They don't stop being part of the forest just because their paws aren't on the ground anymore."

He looked back to her then firmly in a way that made it clear he believed every word. "StarClan has a habit of sticking their noses where they think it matters. You don’t have to revere them to admit they influence how things turn out."

His wide strides made it easy to catch up to her with only the faintest amount of effort, one he was doubtful she'd even notice. "And one day, when it's our time, we'll join them. Not as legends or bloodlines. Just as cats who lived here and left something behind."

He shrugged lightly, as if setting the weight of it down between them instead of carrying it himself. "...I'm only saying the past doesn’t vanish just because we'd rather talk about something else. It shapes the forest we’re standing in."

Then with a soft, low purr and perhaps with a hint of that personable ease he carried so naturally he continued. "But if you've got something more interesting in mind, I'm listening...and I'll be watching for anything interesting in camp or otherwise to share."

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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"Maybe." Brindlespice's tone came out drier than before, as if his response had quickly sent her back to a place that she preferred to squeeze her way out of. Her paws were light against the ground, as if she were ready to do just that at the given moment. She had no interest in staying around if he was just going to talk about their ancestors. "But I never said they didn't stay in the forest. I didn't say they didn't have any impact on who we are. I just don't think the past should be spoken about as much. After all, the present seems more daunting wouldn't you say?"

The huff that left Brindlespice came from a deep seated place of boredom, utter and absolute, if Oaktall was going to keep lingering on the topic of the cats of the past, it wasn't an interaction she was interested in having. "Tell it to the trees. They'll know about our ancestors better than me or you." she rolled her tongue as if there was a joking tone beneath it, but the quiet spit wasn't invisible.

Brindlespice then padded faster, ahead of Oaktall this time, not a test, but wanting to get away from the conversation Oaktall had chosen to delve into without consulting her. If he had something more she could benefit from, he'd have to catch up with her to tell it. If not? She was sick of the medicine cat talk.

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall watched her pull ahead, ears tipping back for a moment before settling again. He didn't rush her right away. Let her have the space. Let the words burn off if they needed to. Then his long stride ate up the distance anyway, without hurry.

"Fair enough. The present is harder to ignore."

He glanced sideways at her, then back to the path, as if anchoring himself in the here and now the way she clearly preferred. He nodded ahead where the undergrowth thickened near the border markers. "RiverClan's been pressing closer to the waterline these past few days...I might mention it to Moosestar to keep it fresh in his mind. He's been distracted as of late."

That, at least, could be considered solid.

Adventurous hearts, wild and free, dance to the rhythm of destiny.

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"Mention it to whoever you like. They'll expect you to." Brindlespice responded. "Not telling anyone at all wouldn't be in our best interest either. Kestrelswipe." She began, hollowing her voice, the long winded words of their ancestors seemed to bore her more than she thought they might have, but she surged forwards at her same pace, if not, a little slower to settle behind and look at where Oaktall was mentioning.

"Kestrelswipe is sturdy... enough. And Moosestar announcing it at a gathering may spark unneeded arguments. As much as that intrigues me, being bothered with such petty nonsense is irritating." She added with a twitch of her tail, her face scrunched at the smell though, potent, fresh, RiverClan was trying to inch closer. A spark of amusement shot through her eyes of amber. Interesting.

But this is what the patrol was for, to find out anything about the borders, now she could go home and slip in beside her sisters, perhaps share this news with them. Something easier than this patrol. "We've seen what we needed to. I'd like to get back to camp." she said, but not much more before slipping into the underbrush.

The oak remembers the storms as warriors remember their battles.
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Oaktall slowed only long enough to angle his head in agreement before falling in beside her again. He took the lead this time without ceremony, paws finding the familiar line of the patrol route as easily as breathing.

"Nearly done anyway. We turn back at the mulberry bush."

The river scent lingered sharp in his nose as they moved, but he didn’t stop to linger on it. When the low, broad mulberry came into view. Oaktall paused just long enough to mark the ground and sweep his gaze once more along the border. Satisfied, he turned cleanly away from the river and angled toward the forest path that led home.

His tail flicked once, a subtle signal of direction as the river faded behind them with each step.