[Phoenix]

ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.
and seen for the wonder i am.

He was not out here by choice. He never strayed this far from camp by choice unless he would benefit from what would otherwise be an uncomfortable, unpleasant experience. The frigid air had already chilled him to the bone, and it seemed to take him longer and longer each night to defrost. Coughs and wheezes rattled his wiry frame practically every other breath, a product of genetically weak lungs and a certain, unwelcome affinity for illness. Already, he knew that he was a pathetic sight; he did not appreciate anything that furthered that illusion. Didn't Blackwolf find some way to make a snide comment on it every time they saw each other? That was a usual occurance, and while they had bothered him in the past, he had learned to let them roll off of him. Revenge would have to wait until he was able to complete it. Blackwolf, like every other idiot, was clueless about the mastermind who mingled among them. They saw poor, weak little Ratfur. His frailty only furthered the illusion. They would learn in the end.

Honestly, he was not quite sure why they chose such an odd, dysfunctional trio of cats to patrol. Hiddenheart was practically a recluse in his own clan; a master hunter, the ebony tom preferred the company of his own thoughts to the company of other felines. Dustspot, his brilliant younger brother, used every opportunity he could to further his own reputation while putting down his brother's. Needless to say, Ratfur did not appreciate his efforts. Hiddenheart was somewhere ahead of him, probably skulking unseen through some shadow, and Dustspot did not deem him a companion worthy enough to walk in his presense. The patrol ended up being a row of strung out cats with Hiddenheart in the lead and Ratfur trailing far behind. He did not care. He did not want to be there, and in any case, he was perfectly satisfied with his own solitude.

However, he did find it interesting that they sent such a dysfunctional patrol along the border of the clan that had the most reason to attack them. Wouldn't NightClan want warriors who knew and were willing to work together to guard that particular border? After the Gathering, every clan knew that TreeClan was not feeling particularly fond toward them. The logic behind the the decision to send them in particular did not make sense, but perhaps that was because there was no logic at all? Perhaps they had picked three cats at random and assigned them to patrol a border at random. That idea was both amusing and disturbing. In any case, their endeavors into TreeClan had done little to satiate their demanding appetites. The other clan had just as little prey as they did. For all of the effort put into the task, it was rather unfortunate and unrewarding.

But no matter, Ratfur thought rather lazily as he moved through the shadows, making sure to remain on his side of the border. A TreeClan patrol approaches. The one skill he could use was an area he excelled in. Tracking.

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yes my teeth and ambitions are bared.
be prepared.

[Deleted]

B A R K B I T E

Today, like most days, Barkbite found himself on patrol duty. The tom was never a good hunter, but with leaf-bare throughout the land, it was more important than ever that cats that could catch things go hunting. Barkbite didn’t mind snow; long legs made it easier to navigate than some of the younger or smaller cats. Speaking of… Olive eyes glanced back to watch Lightheart hop in his tracks. Technically, she was on hunting duty, but she was following him until he got closer to the Great Maple. The older tom had already laughed enough at her, so he was content enough to walk with the company. His patrol partner, Mintleaf, had suggested starting at opposite ends of the border and meeting in the middle. Had Barkbite thought about it further, he might have disagreed that splitting up was a good course of action, especially since the border being patrolled was NightClan.

With a quick lick of the ears for luck, Lightheart trudged through the new snow towards the Great Maple, and Barkbite headed further onwards. Despite reports, he wasn’t expecting any trouble; it was too cold for that nonsense. The chill was even starting to bother him, and the tabby’s fur was dense enough to keep most of leaf-bare’s cold wind away. No prey was scented on his way to the border, so the only change in scents happened when he finally arrived at the deer trail. The smell of NightClan was strong enough (almost too strong, perhaps?), but there was the scent of deer just underneath. Barkbite was amused by the large animals, who in his experience seemed harmless enough. Being shorter than something didn’t happen often.

Hold.

The scent of NightClan was too strong to have been an earlier patrol. At least one of their warriors was nearby…

“I know you’re there…” the TreeClan warrior called out, almost cheerfully considering his intended audience. The tom wasn’t looking for a fight, and as long as they stayed on their side of the border, he saw no reason to. And, well, they wouldn’t hunt for prey on Tree Clan territory if they knew they were being watched, right?

[Phoenix]

ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.
and seen for the wonder i am.

What a shame. TreeClan had noticed his presense, and while he had not been taking any extra precautions to hide it, the wiry tom had found himself hoping that the TreeClan cat would be a rather oblivious cat. One that would trot happily by, completely indifferent to the fact that he was trotting along a border often tested by the neighboring clan. But then, it did not really matter to him whether or not he was discovered; unable to hunt successfully in his own land, he was not about to cross the line and attempt to hunt TreeClan's sorry excuse for prey. It was more out of comfort and the appreciation of silence that he had wanted the other patrol to continue on in their clueless way. It had happened before. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the luck from that occasion would not stretch to cover this one. Oh well.

For a moment, he debated whether or not it was worth it to just leave the scene. He had not confirmed his presense, and if he vanished now, the TreeClan patrol would be none the wiser. As a perk, he would not have to deal with an interaction he would prefer to avoid. On the other hand, he could use his acting abilities and perhaps worm a little tidbit of useful information out of the patrol, particularly if there were younger cats involved. However, the voice had resembled that of a grown warrior more than that of an apprentice or even a young warrior. How unfortunate. Still, that was an interesting idea, and he found himself wondering how he had not thought of it before. Though he lacked the innate clan loyalty that other cats seemed to feel, chances were that any information useful to the clan would also benefit him. And who knew? Perhaps he would not even report the events of this encounter to another warrior. The opportunities were endless, and he could not hide the dark smirk that spread across his lips.

Keenly aware of the danger of marching out and greeting an enemy warrior, he hesitated a moment and collected himself. Yellow-green eyes peered out from the shadows, scanning the area until they landed on the presumed speaker of that rather cheery voice. It was far too happy for the occasion, or rather, far too friendly, considering NightClan had been stealing TreeClan's prey. The speaker was a tall tabby who appeared friendly enough, though Ratfur knew best of all that appearances could easily be deceiving. After all, he acted the incapable, praise-seeking weakling every day, and no cat knew better. He scented no other warriors; it was just the two of them. This would be easy.

Stepping out from the shadows, the wiry tom made himself visible to the other warrior, pointedly staying on his side of the border. "Hello TreeClan," He meowed, making sure inject some friendliness into his tone while remaining guarded. If word ever got back to Blackwolf and the others, he did not want to be accused to becoming too friendly with the enemy. Nothing good would come out of that. But at the same time, he had to sound open enough to get him to talk. It was a delicate balance, but he had been walking on thin ice his whole life, had he not? He had moons of acting experience behind him, and that made his show all the more convincing.

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yes my teeth and ambitions are bared.
be prepared.

[Deleted]

B A R K B I T E

The large tom waited patiently for the NightClan cat/s to announce themselves. Part of him doubted they would, but it wasn’t as though they would go unnoticed anyway. He could still smell them (him, one of the scents was male), and walking on snow wasn’t as silent as walking on bare ground or green grass tended to be.

Ah, there was the cat he had picked up. A small and scrawny little mouse of a cat, by even normal standards. Was he even a warrior? TreeClan would never send out such a small apprentice on their own, especially patrolling and double-especially their border with NightClan, and yet this one’s size… Barkbite could smell other NightClan cats, but they weren’t strong enough to be current. Well, at least the scrawny cat wasn’t aggressive right away. The warrior hated when one side of the opposing border patrol insisted on skirmishing. To be fair, the match-up wouldn’t have been favorable to the much smaller cat, even if the other tom tried a sneak-attack. Some of the smaller cats had hidden strength, but Barkbite had a feeling this one wasn’t one of them. “Hello NightClan,” he teasingly responded. Sure, he didn’t know the other cat’s name either, but still.

He would have continued his patrol, but turning one’s back on a cat from another clan was never a smart move. “You’re not out here alone, are you?” He’d hate to be blamed for a NightClan cat freezing to death; there was enough tension between the clans already.

[Phoenix]

ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.
and seen for the wonder i am.

Flicking his tail lightly, he dismissed the greeting, which seemed almost teasing, in favor of analyzing his first impression of the TreeClan tom. Yellow-green eyes flicked over the tall tabby feline in front of him, watching for any sign of falsehood. While the friendliness might have caused a younger, more inexperienced cat to relax, it only put him even more on guard. The tabby had no reason to greet him so cordially and with such a polite air. In the event of an encounter with a TreeClan patrol, he had expected unsheathed claws and hissed threats, even if the border was not crossed. Given the recent happenings and NightClan's conspicuous lack of denial, the absense of the aforementioned actions did nothing but confuse him. He refused to believe that it was only because the warrior was abnormally friendly. Every cat, friendly or not, would greet their enemies with their claws and teeth rather than trade relatively pleasant words at the border. What is he up to?

Ears flicked at the question, and with suspicion running rampant through his veins, the tom immediately began inventing various reasons as to why TreeClan would ask that. Was the tom planning on launching an attack and wanted to know how many cats he would have to face? Subtly, he scented the air. While the scent of TreeClan was overwhelming, he smelled no other TreeClan cats in the vicinity. There were fresh scents, but nothing hinted that those cats had doubled back to prepare for an ambush. Still, he would have to keep his guard up - as always - and prepare to flee at a moment's notice. Glancing around him, yellow-green eyes scanned his surroundings, as though he was looking for his clanmates. Masterfully, he disguised his true intention, which was to see if he found any other TreeClan cats. "Well," He began hesitantly. "No, I wouldn't say so. You're here, aren't you? Technically I'm not alone." A flicker of a grin shone across his lips, and he allowed himself a moment of triumph for managing to worm his way out of giving what would be a potentially useful answer to that question. But he did not want to give the other tom long to dwell on it. Let the small talk continue.

"I don't remember seeing you at the last Gathering," He began, voice even, if not somewhat raspy. "But there are always a lot of cats. It's impossible to talk to everyone, you know? I might have missed you or something."

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yes my teeth and ambitions are bared.
be prepared.

[Deleted]

B A R K B I T E

The apprentice (surely the small tom must have been an apprentice at that size) sure seemed suspicious of him, and unnecessarily so. After all, TreeClan was hardly the one stealing prey from NightClan. Maybe the NightClan apprentice was being tested? If that was the case, he was certainly going to fail; talking to a member of the opposite patrol was hardly typical behavior. Barkbite himself didn’t do it too often, but that was because patrols were rarely a single cat, and when with other cats, they jumped to aggression most of the time. If there wasn’t a need to get mean, why bother?

With this new theory, Barkbite scented the air as the apprentice looked around. This time, he was searching for the NightClan cat’s mentor or an older tom that might be watching. Still, he couldn’t pick up on any, although there was a strange scent far upwind… “If you catch cold, there’s not much I can do without crossing the border,” the tom half-joked. He wasn’t about to cause any sort of excuse for NightClan to ‘retaliate’; currently, TreeClan was in the right against NightClan, and greying up the black and white situation was something Barkbite wanted to avoid at all costs. Then again, if the cat collapsed in front of him, could he really just walk away?

“I stayed back the last Gathering to guard the camp,” Barkbite answered calmly. The ‘from a sneak attack by NightClan’ went unsaid. As much as he liked chatting with cats from the other clans, the experienced warrior knew that the safety of the Clan came first, and if they were stealing prey, what was to stop them from sneak attacking during a Gathering?

However, the NightClan cat in front of him was clearly doing no harm at the moment, so Barkbite felt no need to attack. He was barely on guard; more concerned about other NightClan warriors (or even other TreeClan warriors) than this scrawny apprentice in front of him.

[Phoenix]

ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.
and seen for the wonder i am.

Not for the first time, Ratfur despised whatever fate or being had deemed it necessary to give him such a weak, useless body. Small and scrawny, he lacked the bulk that Blackwolf had, which served to both intimidate others and keep himself warm during the frigid moons of Leaf-Bare. Coughs rattled his bones, and when he did not cough, his breath came out in wheezes, making him seem even more sickly. Though he was unable to prevent his thin limbs from shivering in the cold, he could not help the irritation that the TreeClan warrior's comment caused. Even if he did almost freeze every night, that did not mean that he needed a TreeClan cat's help. He may have thought less than fond thoughts about his own clanmates, but he much preferred their company to that of an over-friendly TreeClan tom.

"I assure you," He muttered, "You do not have to worry about my health. I'm not about to die." A complete lie, of course, but the other tom did not need to know that. As if on cue, a violent coughing fit threatened to shake his frail frame, and he lasted only a moment before he gave into the need. Muscles tensed as he ducked his head, attempting to ignore his complaining lungs and throat. Perfect. One action had wrecked his entire lie, and while he knew that it was a relatively normal occurance, TreeClan over there did not. He was not in the mood to deal with worry or sympathy or pity or any emotion vaguely resembling those. They were unnecessary and largely unwelcome.

Recovering from his coughing, the tom raised yellow-green eyes again at the sound of the tabby continuing. The implied 'from NightClan' was acknowledged with a slight dip of the head but went otherwise ignored. Voice a little raspier than before, he managed, "I see." Conversation died for a moment, and the silence was filled with the sound of wind blowing down the trail, winding its way around the naked boughs stretched out above them. It carried an odd, though familiar scent. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he tried to place it. He knew that he had encounted a creature of the same kind too. Eyes lit on a bush off to the side of them, and something fell in his stomach. Unbidden, the sensation of hooves thudding on the ground to either side of him and a ghost of the wild terror he had felt crashed through his veins. A subtle, barely noticeable shaking overcame him once more, and for once, it was not due to the bone chilling cold. He hated himself for it.

OOC: He was attacked by a deer once. Got in between the mother and her fawn. Here if you want to read.

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yes my teeth and ambitions are bared.
be prepared.