Honestly, she couldn't help it. She had no current duties to attend to - but she would bring back at least one piece of prey, make sure the day wasn't a complete waste for the rest of the clan - and decided to test her legs against the flat stretch of land leading towards the Stumps. She wasn't dumb enough to ignore the scent line, of course, but she did get too close for comfort at times simply because that's the way the ground leveled out.
Okay, so that was a lie. She did it also to see how fast her reactions were as the border line had some weird dips in it but she hadn't crossed it yet, okay, everything was fine and no one could get mad at her for staying on her side of the border.
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she'd stop feeling guilty. It wasn't fair to the Creek cats to tease them like that, they'd already had a hard time with Gorge. She shouldn't make it worse.
One more time around, though.
Another laugh, this one more of a breathless giggle, as Robinflight flopped to the ground. She rolled onto her back and wriggled to get comfortable, eyes sliding mostly shut as she caught her breath and relaxed. That was so much fun! It was so nice to run without Honeyheart getting onto her about training or duties or whatever other reason. Why should she have to stay so still and serious all the time? Named warrior or not, she was barely out of her apprenticeship. She deserved the time to herself to have fun her way.
Cobrastrike | A/N: oh my god even getting into her character makes me feel like i gotta go exercise
The Sodden Marsh was far from Cobrastrike's favorite place. In truth, he even preferred the various creeks and rivers that flowed through their land to the nigh worthless stretch of territory. Its only use was to provide muck and frogs, however at least it was easy enough to guard - hard enough for Creekclan's own warriors to traverse, those Moorclan hare-chasers at least had enough brains between their wind-blown ears to realize those spindly legs of theirs would only get caught up in the mud and reeds.
However, that did not mean they would ever neglect to mark it.
As useless as the land was to him to claim, after what happened with Gorgeclan, there was no way the clan was slacking off. Every bit of territory they could claim as theirs they would not give an inch of, no matter how irritating it might be to hold. Besides, they needed the prey that every scrap provided to regain their strength, especially with leafbare so close around the corner and that strange illness lurking like some adder waiting to strike.
So, Cobrastrike found himself heading a border patrol. No matter his attitude or former position as a Gorgeclan warrior, while his loyalty was questioned in theory, his work ethic was hard to ignore. He was efficient, that was a given, and his age gave him the expertise that younger warriors lacked no matter his birth clan. Pantherleap could not deny Cobrastrike's capability in getting the borders marked and prey caught, however the warrior still had the lingering wonder if him being directed toward Moorclan carried the intent of veering him away from Gorgeclan.
As though he would ever want to return to that group of traitorous fox-hearts.
Cobrastrike expected nothing more than a routine border inspection. What he did not expect, was to see a small feline pelting up and down the borderline like a startled hare. Tail lashing in annoyance, for this was certainly not the kind of addition he needed to his day, the tom continued along his task as assigned, though still keeping an eye on the Moorclanner as they raced along.
Eventually, they flopped down at the border near the Blessed Stumps, rather than retreating back across the moors. Rumbling a growl of irritation, Cobrastrike flicked a wad of mud off a forepaw, before lashing his tail. Without glancing back at his accompaniment, another warrior and their apprentice, the tom tossed back and order as he padded off. "Continue marking the border - I can deal with this."
Expecting nothing less than obedience from his two younger clanmates, Cobrastrike stalked briskly onto the slightly drier land just aside the border, before padding along it, his one seeing eye already zeroing in on the resting feline with clear distaste and annoyance. "Are you quite finished now?" he snapped firmly, aiming to draw the small molly's attention with his sharp tone, edged with warning of a particularly short-temper that day. "The border is not you play pen, apprentice," he sneered, eyeing the tiny feline that screamed youth and irresponsibility in his eye.
He had half a mind to give her a swipe over the ears and send her crying back to her mentor, but he merely dug his claws into the earth and allowed his tail to lash again.
Notes | Oh yikes same here lol where does she get the energy Tagged | robinflight
Robinflight startled to her feet at the sudden, unrecognizable voice. Not a surprise, she thought to herself, recognizing the scent of Creekclan as the older tom approached. She had yet to got to a Gathering - had yet to want to go to a Gathering. Her fur bristled at the assumption that she was still an apprentice.
... Nevermind that it was true less than a moon ago but still!
The large tom was agitated and irritated but Robinflight drew on all her confidence to remain calm, alone as she was, far from backup if something went wrong. Well, at least she could outrun him if he tried to start anything. "For apprentices, no, it is not for play. But so long as I'm on my side, it doesn't exactly matter what I do." Privately, she scolded herself for daring that extra lap. This is what she gets for trying to have fun by herself. Without her noticing, her paws started to knead the ground as the energy she had spent so long trying to rid herself of returned, bolstered by adrenaline.
The molly made sure to commit the appearance of this tom to memory just in case he never introduced himself. Honeyheart could tell her later who she had the misfortune of meeting in Creekclan. Not like it'll be hard to forget him. The scars alone would describe many of the cats from what she knew of Bonestar's rule, but the eye... That had to be unique. Right?
Cobrastrike | A/N: That's a great question that I don't know the answer to!
The molly's fur bristled, and while she did not outright correct him, he could sense the irritation in her even as she appeared to be making some attempt to stay calm. Well, as calm as any cat who could not seem to sit still, like some energetic kit sitting through a queen's lecture. Eyes narrowing skeptically, the tom gave another lash of his tail.
"If you call yourself a warrior, then, I am sure you have more important things to be doing than mucking about like some nuisance kit," the tom pointed out bluntly. While clearly annoyed and not in the mood to deal with childish misbehavior, his fur remained flat and tail held in the confidence of someone who knew well they could deal with this issue. A confidence backed up by the fact his patrol was still marking the border, barely even paying any mind.
Doubted or not in his loyalties, he was still a brilliant fighter even lacking an eye.
"I was not aware Moorclan doesn't teach their warriors manners before they even get their names," he added coldly, tone clear with icy disapproval. "Maybe Stoatstar will need to hear of this...unless you are acting against your leader's wishes?" In which case, perhaps it was Spiritstar who needed to know of this unruly young molly. Not that Cobrastrike had much faith in that tom as it was.
At least every other leader could take things seriously. Reporting this to him would be about as useful as telling a kit.
How rude! One ear flicked in irritation as the tom tried to scold her as one would an unruly apprentice. "Yet here I was, with no duties for the day, out of the way and alone until you showed up and decided that I was inconveniencing you. By all means, ignore the fact that I am on my side of the border, I never once crossed it, and I was not the one who started this conversation."
His next words made her ears truly pin but she kept steady on her feet. Robinflight was determined to not be the one to start a fight even though this - this - fox-hearted tom who couldn't keep his whiskers in his own business. "I don't know, does Stoatstar need to know that one of his warriors is antagonizing Moorclan for no reason?" she shot back. Her normally cheerful mood was taking a sharp dive down. So much for having a good day. Part of her wanted to simply turn around and leave him behind, while another part didn't want to seem like a coward.
A second's thought was all it took before she turned her back on his and flicked her tail rudely as she walked away. It took the remainder of her willpower to do so slowly, so that it didn't seem like she was fleeing, but she was going to be the bigger cat! There was still hope she could have a better day. Maybe a rabbit and a chat with her mother?
Eyes narrowing, the tom lashed his tail irritably. Did this molly seriously thing there was nothing wrong with her just fooling around? Ridiculous. She must be one of the least reliable warriors he had ever met - and considering where he came from, that was saying something.
"Leafbare is right around the corner and last I checked prey prefers shelter when the snows come," he sneered, nodding toward the wide open moor she resided on. "No one should have no duties on any day at times like these unless you have a good excuse. You certainly don't look to be sick, injured or raising kits, so I highly doubt you have any reason to not be serving your clan to build its strength before the next season despite a lack of assigned tasks."
If only he could knock some sense into the stubborn little vermin.
Her retort barely even earned a blink from the tom, unfazed by any threat she could attempt to throw. To him she was little more than a rabbit thinking it could defend itself against a wolf. Pathetic. "Feel free to let him know, but don't think I'll garner any retribution for it," he spat back coolly, another lash of his tail echoing his words. "I doubt he would see scolding a foolish young molly thinking she owns the border as her playground would be considered no reason, whether you crossed or not. You are disrespecting our clan as well as making your own look bad, and that is not something Stoatstar would take lightly."
The second the molly turned away, the tom was glad to watch her go.
At least she had better sense than to make matters worse, not that it was much.
Once she was far enough from the border to satisfy him, the tom marked the border just opposite where she had been lurking, before marching his way through the boggy land back toward his patrol. At least that was one problem taken care of. Now he could get back to his patrol before he hunted on his way back to camp.
Unlike that foolish she-cat, he was not about to slack off on the verge of leafbare.
Notes | Father of the year right here Tagged | robinflight