Posts by WOLFBITE!

When Wolfsbane had been organizing the patrol in WindClan's camp, he'd been asked if it really made sense to patrol in the rain. Although he'd defended his decision, by the time he reached the joint border the relative wisdom of patrolling in wet weather was a moot point. The previously heavy showers had lightened into a drizzle and then faded away altogether, and although the ground was damp with rainwater, the sky was a cheerful blue. The storm had ended. Pausing once the border was within eyesight, the chocolate tom turned to examine his Clanmates, checking to see if anyone was lagging behind. "Is everyone here?"

Perhaps it was due to his own reluctance to do anything outdoors in the rain, but Wolfsbane was surprised by the number of volunteers who answered his call. Neither Minkpaw nor Tansy had been around the territory much, if memory served. The former was a new apprentice and the latter a recent joiner. If all they wanted was experience, he couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't chosen to go out on a drier day.

"Sounds good," he told Ivynose, maw curling in a faint smile. His ears tilted as he turned toward Lavender, eying the cream tabby as she questioned his decision. Her point was a good one; luckily, he had an answer. "The rain washes away old markings too, not just new ones," he explained. "The border's technically shared with RiverClan but there are often loners there too, especially near the area where both territories end. We're focusing on searching for intruders, not on refreshing the markings. If there's no WindClan presence there, there's nothing to stop loners from trespassing." It had been one of his favorite tricks growing up as a rogue. No one wanted to patrol in the rain, making it easy to slip into areas that might otherwise be heavily guarded and hunt as much as he could. Liverpool's praise for bringing in a good haul had been worth all the soaked fur in the world.

"There's no reason not to stop and hunt, too," he added hastily. Wolfsbane himself was eager to complete the patrol and return to the dry warrior's den but if a willingness to compromise made him seem more trustworthy in Morningfrost's eyes, he'd live with the discomfort. He waited another few heartbeats, genuinely curious as to what Lavendercream thought of his defense, before turning to head out.

// joy and sorrow — wc border patrol

To a degree, Wolfsbane could sympathize with Tansy. He'd been a newcomer only a few moons earlier, confused by the customs of his new home and unused to the sounds of WindClan life. His own adjustment, like the circumstances that had led him to WindClan, had been (and still was) hard. After being subjected to the chaos of a family that was falling apart, WindClan had seemed like an oasis that he didn't quite fit into. Also like Tansy, the large warrior didn't have a warrior name yet. To the uninitiated, his name sounded as thought it could be one, but there was no meaning to 'wolf' or 'bane' alone, and the 's' connecting them would be out of place in a warrior's name. So far, no leader had demanded that he changed his name, and although Wolfsbane had tried to change a lot about himself in order to fit in, his name was more personal. There had been good things about his life before WindClan and changing his name would be denying them.

Sitting near the camp entrance, it was nearly impossible not to overhear the conversation that began around Tansy. Hawkpaw, well-intentioned as he had to be, sounded a little desperate for company—but he was alone these days with no other medicine cat of medicine cat apprentice to spend time with. Lavender's introduction struck him as obnoxious. Wolfsbane couldn't speak for anyone else, but had he been Tansy, he wouldn't have appreciated a stranger approaching and spouting off names and facts about the Clan without any prodding. Morningstar, finally, was as silent as ever. It was him who Wolfsbane emulated, remaining quiet as he regarded the small group. He was close enough to them to add his own opinion should Tansy be interested in conversation but distant enough to ignore them should nothing about the group strike him as interesting. The balance, in his mind, was perfect.

With Morningfrost and Hawkpaw away, there had been an odd undercurrent flowing through the camp. The duo's trip to the moonstone wasn't supposed to take extremely long, but having both cats in authority gone had made the camp feel strangely empty. Nothing bad had happened, but a small part of Wolfsbane had wondered if any of the other groups would discover that Morningstar and Hawkpaw were away and take it as a StarClan sent chance to launch an attack. Everything, thankfully, had been quiet, although that hadn't kept Wolfsbane from restlessly pacing outside the camp entrance.

After their journey, the leader and healer apprentice both had to be hungry and tired. Wolfsbane eyed the two as Morningstar headed toward the freshkill pile, giving them a moment before moving to stand beside Minkpaw. Despite his faint animosity toward the leader, he found himself addressing Morningstar, head tilted slightly as he pressed, "The journey went smoothly?" The whole "talking to the deceased" thing still felt strange to him; it was easier to focus on the concrete, such as their security during the trip.

There definitely had been a few new faces around recently. Wolfsbane had reached the point where, although he couldn't call himself an old member, he was no longer a newcomer. He'd taken to observing each new cat who joined the Clan, assessing them in a way that he felt sure that his Clanmates weren't. A rogue's instincts ran deep and, in some ways were preferable to the instincts of WindClan-born cats.

Although he had nothing against socializing, this wasn't the sort of setting that Wolfsbane particularly enjoyed. Nonetheless, he answered Minkpaw's call, in part because he was already nearby. Perhaps he'd even learn something worth knowing, some sort of tidbit that would help him to be accepted by more of his Clanmates.

"I'm Wolfsbane," the male began, and found himself pausing for an unseemly amount of time while he tried to figure out what to add. His family? Morningstar and Minkpaw had both touched upon that. "I'm Amberpaw's father and grace and Rosebrier's brother."

As the members of the patrol responded one by one, Wolfsbane's colorless gaze swept over them. He didn't actually have much to answer Minkpaw with. He didn't have much to do with the other Clans. His experience with them was fairly limited to the trip Eaglestar had taken him on while searching for Jasperstar—that and border patrols. "They're on top of their borders," he said at last, "And aren't usually extremely hostile to our patrols." As long as no one tried to sir up trouble, he didn't anticipate any negativity from the RiverClanners.

Lavender's comment might have received a reaction from him if Morningstar hadn't jumped in with a warning not to remain polite. Instead, Wolfsbane watched Tansy as she surveyed the area, half tempted to ask what she thought of this section of the territory.

"Not half the Clan," he found himself responding. "Just the important cats." Nearly as soon as the words left his maw he stiffened, half sure that Morningstar would find a way to misinterpret the joke so that it reflected poorly on him. Well, done was done. "Speaking of, did Ivynose break off to hunt?" Wolfsbane might simply not be noticing the other tom, but until someone was able to confirm which scenario was accurate, it was best not to move on.

// feel free to post with you riverclanners c:

His sister had been so quiet that Wolfsbane had nearly forgotten that she'd joined the patrol. Rosebrier seemed on edge, and he couldn't fault that solely to their upbringing. She'd been on plenty of patrols since arriving in WindClan, or so he assumed. Was the difference because he was on this one?

Three RiverClanners approached in quick succession, clearly a patrol. Did they seem tense, likely to attack? His first instinct was always to search for any sign of potential violence. Despite most patrols passing peacefully and moons as a Clan cat, that instinct hadn't changed. If the other patrol seemed tense, however, it was simply because of how big the WindClan group was. Figuring that Ivynose and Lavender had addressed that issue enough to calm the other group down, Wolfsbane remained quiet, eyes flickering toward Lav as she commented on his size. A pawful for him was actually Amberpaw-sized, although he saw no reason to correct the other warrior. Instead, he simply nodded at his Clanmates' words, waiting to see if Twistedtail or the two apprentices would challenge them any further.

Wolfsbane had never expected to be given an apprentice and now that he had one, he wasn't sure what to do with him. Olivepaw had always been one of Mousenose and Cowspots' faceless children, a kit that he might have bumped into while visiting his own daughter in the nursery but whom he'd never really paid much attention to. Now Wolfsbane was supposed to make sure that kit had all the skills he needed to become a warrior, and if that wasn't a lot of pressure, he didn't know what was. He wanted to hate Morningstar for burdening him with an apprentice but even he recognized that the tabby leader was offering him a chance to prove himself to WindClan—a chance that he shouldn't need at this point, but a few moons of service wasn't going to prove that he wasn't the manipulative, aggressive cat he'd been when he joined. He'd always need to prove himself and maybe, just maybe, training Olivepaw would be a way of doing that.

Although the sun had barely risen past the distant edge of the moor, Wolfsbane made his way toward the apprentice den to find Olivepaw. He hadn't actually done much with the apprentice yet, in part because he wasn't sure where to begin. He didn't trust himself not to be rough with Olivepaw, the way his father had been with him.

In the end, Olivepaw wasn't in the apprentice den and Wolfsbane located him mostly because the younger tom let out a soft yelp. The scent of blood, though barely noticeable, clung to the other cat, and forgetting what he'd planned to say, Wolfsbane asked, "What happened?"

Upon returning from his patrol, Wolfsbane had heard that Olivepaw had been spotted outside the camp. That left a whole territory for Wolfsbane to search in order to find the apprentice, but luckily for his mood, he hadn't been searching for long before he spotted the group gathered near the border. His gaze lingered over the three apprentices just long enough for him to give Olivepaw a pointed look before moving to Grace and Lavendercream. He had a grudging respect for the somali, based mostly on the fact that she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. If anyone was going to be leading grace around the territory, he'd rather it be her than someone who was likely to get his sister into trouble. Moving beside the other warrior, he let his eyes at last drop to the rogue. Nagina cut an interesting figure, wide eyes fixed on a rabbit hole, three limbs full of corded strength. Pale eyes cutting momentarily to Chillypaw, he rasped, "Since your cover's blown, why don't you three stop hiding?" At least Chilly had tried to hide—Olivepaw hadn't even made such an attempt, to Wolfsbane's dismay. If the rogue intended harm, better the apprentices should keep hidden instead of projecting their location to the world at large. "And give her a chance to answer Lavender instead of guessing her motives."

Wolfsbane knew very little about the bond that was supposed to form between mentor and apprentice. He'd learned all he knew from his father and, on those occasions that his father saw fit to make alliances, the cultist he had half grown up among. There had been no room for coddling and closeness, but perhaps as he passed his skills down to Olivepaw, the youth would in turn tell Wolfsbane his expectations.

He blinked as Olivepaw explained what had happened. Nothing to worry about, then. Gruffly, he commented, "That happens." He paused a moment, uncharacteristically uncomfortable, before plunging on. "Figured we could swing around the territory. Does your paw still hurt or do you need a moment before we leave?"

Wolfsbane was supposed to be watching Olivepaw hunt. He was supposed to be following the other tom as Olive chased a rabbit. He was supposed to offer helpful advice, but as the younger male shot off, the scent of blood and the city sidetracked Wolfsbane. Blood, the city, and Flint. Maybe Wolfsbane ought to have found Olivepaw and ordered him back to camp but all he could think about was the blue tom that the name Flint called to mind. The blue tom who'd been his shadow, his opponent, his biggest critic. The blue tom who'd been dedicated to supporting him, who'd become something approaching a friend. The blue tom who'd up and disappeared one day, leaving Wolfsbane none the wiser.

Instead of hunting down his apprentice, the chocolate and white warrior turned to follow the scent, pale eyes running past Morningstar and Petalpaw (whose outburst, admittedly, he only somewhat understood) to Flint. "Spirits, Flint." Unlike the tabby leader, emotion laced his voice. "Where were you? Why'd you just leave?" Had he thought that his disappearance wouldn't be noticed? Flint had left Wolfsbane disoriented. He'd left Petalpaw alone. He'd abandoned the home he was supposed to serve, the cats who were supposed to be able to rely on him. Why?

There had been an influx of new faces recently, likely the result of WindClan's lax acceptance policy that had begun during Eaglestar's reign and continued in Morningstar's. Wolfsbane, personally, felt that the whole thing was something of a mess from a security standpoint but his role wasn't to question the leader or make waves. Spirits knew he'd done that often enough in the past, although he liked to think that he'd become calmer and more accepting in recent moons.

Larkpaw, of course, wasn't a newcomer. She was one of Morningstar's brood, a face that Wolfsbane vaguely recognized. Joining the group, he cocked his head toward the apprentice, simply asking, "Why the farm?" It was a fine place for hunting rodents, but with the rabbits starting to come out and about again, he wasn't sure that visiting it was worth the risk of running into the elderly twoleg who ran the place.

Normally, Wolfsbane sat beside his sister and daughter during meetings but a casual glance revealed that neither had answered Morningstar's call yet. Gaze snaking around the crowd, he hesitated before approaching Petalpaw. It was...good to have her back, although he was less certain about the change from feisty kit to anxious apprentice. All cats changed; it was simply luck that he'd improved for the better.

Wolfsbane had been caught by surprise when the ground began shaking. The brown tom had been heading back from a sunrise walk when the tremors started and despite his best efforts, he'd lost his balance, landing painfully on the shaking ground. Slowly, he dragged himself toward one of the entrances, ears flattened as the sound of thuds echoed through the air. The first tunnel he approached, a small side entrance, was blocked by a boulder, but by the time the earthquake was over, he'd managed find the main entrance.

It was chaotic inside the camp, a large rock blocking the elder's den and cats milling in the center of the camp. It was this group that Wolfsbane approached, colorless eyes counting the cats in sight. Olivepaw, Lizardbounce, others...but where was Amberpaw and Graceful? Anxiety tightened his chest as, wide-eyed, he demanded, "Who was on morning patrol today?"

Petalpaw's voice was so soft that Wolfsbane barely heard it. Of course, it was Flint she was talking to, not him, and he was content to eye the loner as the two conversed. He was, he supposed, feeling betrayed: he'd just started to accept that Flint might be able to help him, might be able to guide him morally, when the other had left. Wolfsbane hadn't thought of him often in the intervening moons, but when he had, it had always been in the guise of, "What would Flint tell me?" He'd based the middle of his time in WindClan on Flint's directive to play nice, and just when he felt ready to admit that Flint might be able to teach him right from wrong, he'd been forced to teach himself. He'd been forced to lean on Grace, although his sister wasn't supposed to see his failings, wasn't supposed to realize that he was struggling. She'd realized, of course, and had helped him to the best of her ability. He could not help but wonder if Morningstar would already trust him if Flint hadn't left and had finished helping him. Perhaps it was better this way. He was building himself on who he thought that he ought to be, not on who Flint thought he ought to be, but he still couldn't help but blame the tom for leaving him with no one to explain the concepts that he hadn't been raised with.

And now Flint wanted to return. It seemed to Wolfsbane that if he'd run off once, he might do it again, and he glanced at once toward Morningstar, trying to determine if the blue tabby agreed with him. Wolfsbane was not sure which option he'd prefer. He missed Flint's input, strange as that was to admit. "Or," he suggested, "You can tell Morningstar what happened." Was it cruel of him explain Morningstar's new role without telling Flint what had happened to Eaglestar? Leadership usually passed on when one leader died, and Flint might think that was the case if he wasn't told otherwise. But Wolfsbane was entitled to a little cruelty, wasn't he? It had been cruel of Flint to leave him without a guide, and like it or not, that was the job that Jasperstar had assigned to Flint when Wolfsbane had joined. "He'll decide if you can return, after all."

Had he realized why Larkpaw was slightly disappointed, Wolfsbane would have been hard pressed to hold in a chuckle. The time for socialization, he firmly believed, was in the camp, not out on patrols. Like it or not, Larkpaw was making this sound like a patrol, not a walk meant for friends. Of course, he'd probably also direct her to Amberpaw. His daughter had been acting off recently and he was beginning to worry. A friend would do her good.

Shifting his weight slightly as Rose responded to the girl, he shook his head. "I'll stay back. Enjoy."

Grace was fine. Shooting his sister a relieved smile, Wolfsbane pressed against her briefly. She was safe, at least. If he knew where Amberpaw was, he'd be a good deal calmer, but Grace's presence meant something too. His eyes flickered toward Milkdream as the young warrior repeated her idea. Search parties made sense, although anyone who'd been stuck on the territory would be trying to make their way back to the camp. The big problem would be cats who were out alone and had gotten hurt—but as Blossompaw worried, hurt cats couldn't be healed if Hawkpaw was missing. Briefly, his gaze flashed toward the apprentice, annoyance evident in the tightness of his jaw. "Blossompaw! Calm down. We'll find everyone but starting a panic will only make things more difficult." Chillypaw had the right idea, trying to relax the other apprentice. Shifting his attention back to Milkdream, he agreed, "We might as well. It would be best if we split into small groups to search faster. Maybe the cats left behind could start clearing the camp." He glanced questioningly toward Morningstar, waiting for the leader to announce a course of action.

Wolfsbane had on occasion run across turtles before. The first time he'd seen one, he'd thought it might make an interesting snack, but killing it proved harder than he had realized. The shell was impossible to penetrate and any time he'd gotten too close, the turtle poked its fleshy bits inside. He'd endured teasing from his brothers for nearly a week until, at last, someone else had made an even bigger mistake and the attention shifted away from him.

He was therefore surprised to see Morningstar prodding a turtle into camp. Glancing toward Mammon, he dryly replied, "Looks like a new Clanmate." He waited a beat before explaining, "It's called a turtle. They're hard to kill. Why'd you bring it here, Morningstar?"