[Deleted]

The pre-dawn air was cold and misty. NightClan's camp was mostly empty, as most of the cats were asleep in their dens, and the hunting patrol had already left. An alert Dustspot guarded the camp's entrance, having just replaced a very sleepy Wolverineheart. He'd risen earlier than necessary, making time to groom his unruly fur and eat half of a small frog that had been left in the fresh-kill pile. The mottled tabby loved the night's feral stillness, its dark silence. The sun had hours to rise.

Nettlefur had been assigned to a small border patrol with Slatenose, a she-cat he didn't know very well. By his request, Hazepaw wasn't coming. The TreeClan border was a precarious place to be, and Hazepaw was far from ready for confrontation of any kind. He turned to see his companion approaching, her muscular frame engulfed in shadows. He stood as she approached, flicking his ears in greeting. The pair set out towards StarClan claws, as they'd been instructed yesterday. They'd start there and work their way up along the deer path.

The lanky tom settled into a long, swinging stride, sliding easily over NightClan's familiar territory. "How are you?" he asked good-naturedly, his splotched eyes friendly and bright.

Word count; 207
Character; Nettlefur
Notes; Meep.

[Deleted]

s l a t e n o s e

warrior, nightclan

Slatenose paused outside the warrior's den, shaking the sleep from her mind and the debris from her body. Smoothing her fur with a quick grooming, she joined the younger warrior for their patrol. Not exactly in the best of moods that morning, she desired to get the patrol over with, hoping to spend it in relative silence.

Green eyes scanned the camp for mottled tom she would be spending the morning with. Spotting the lean figure towards the camp entrance, she padded towards him and exited the quiet camp for the even quieter territory belonging to her Clan. Her hopes were high for an easy patrol. 

He led the way to StarClan's Claws, so she assumed they would start there and work their way down the border. Her thoughts were broken (and hopes of silence chattered) when his voice disturbed the quiet morning.

"How are you?"

Slatenose scowled internally, but her eyes revealed a touch of her distaste. She had hoped to avoid this awkward small talk. This she-cat did not have any social graces. "Quite fine, thanks," she mewed gruffly, padding on in silence. She picked her pace up, hoping her companion would catch the hint.

[Insidious]

Pale gold eyes gazed upon the body of Roughthroat, nodding his head in acceptance of his order, though a spiteful gleam keen to remain in his fixated stare. Pivoting fluidly, the lithe warrior stalked toward the nearest brambles, the scents of both Slatenose and Nettlefur quick to engulf his nasal cavities. If able to, he would have found a way to disgrace Roughthroat's wanting him to join the dawn patrol – originally he had planned on going early-morning hunting with companions Blackwolf and Ratfur. Hollowcry valued the company of his posse far more than he did of Slatenose and Nettlefur, being two warriors of his clan he couldn't claim to know extraordinarily well. He, however, uncovered the positives soon to follow this situation: if he wasn't going to be spending his dawn hours with Blackwolf, that left him with the ring leader position amongst two warriors who'd hopefully know better than to get in Hollowcry's way. There was plenty in the forest for a cat to be greedy over; for a cat to so desperately want. For the small, dark brown NightClan warrior, the lust for power simply couldn't be calmed when dealing with someone like Blackwolf. Therefore, the desire was nourished when absent of the bi-eyed tom.

Spying the pair through a thick concealment of foliage, Hollowcry observed in quiet, content analysis before revealing himself out of pure longing to understand precisely whom he was dealing with. From what he was able to decipher: a rather pleasant tom making the best out of a patrol few were fond of, and an oppositely behaved she-cat that seemed none-too-interested in pleasantries. “Hey now, you didn't forget about me, did you?” Implying that he had been apart of the dawn patrol since the very beginning, Hollowcry slipped forward stealthily and settled into a comfortable pace at Nettlefur's flank, watching the older she-cat, Slatenose, stalk forward as a sign of her annoyance. Although he could relate, having no desire to be here, he couldn't help but feel the immense urge to have a conversation with her – a nice, overall pleasant conversation with the she-cat that had just rejected Nettlefur's company by quickening her pace.

Inwardly satisfied with such cruel thoughts, Hollowcry curtly dipped his head toward Nettlefur before upping his own pace a notch to match Slatenose's, if not be just a tad faster – a cat like Hollowcry was always in the lead (When not with Blackwolf, of course). Passing by Slatenose with meticulous, purposeful strides, he spared a thoughtful glance followed by the charming peel of his upper lip into a half-grin. “I hope you don't mind my being apart of this? Unless you happened to want some time alone with--” The dark brown tom quieted for a moment, glancing over his shoulders in a display of false confusion to portray that he had completely forgotten the identity of their third party member. “Uh, oh yes: Nettlefur.” Nodding his head in acceptance of his correct guess, Hollowcry returned his attention to Slatenose, pleased beyond belief with the way in which he so indirectly implied his certainty of superiority over Nettlefur's head – it was something he knew, of course, that he was; driven to prove it true nonetheless.

Remaining by the she-cat's side for another elongated few seconds, he once again upped his pace to grasp a hold of the front position for himself, uninterested in further communication for the time being out of a desire to leave his final words behind for contemplation between the NightClan duo.

[Deleted]

Slatenose gave a curt reply, quickening her steps. Nettlefur was no fool, and took the hint, maintaining his long, swinging stride and allowing the gray she-cat to walk ahead of him. Pressuring a cat who was giving him clear signals that she wasn't interested in talking to him was not the way he did things. He respected her wishes, and settled into a comfortable silence. Sensing that they were not alone, the mottled tabby stiffened, looking back to locate the newcomer. A short-haired black tom emerged from the brambles. Nettlefur recognized him to be Hollowcry, one of Blackwolf's cronies. He held no opinion of him or his friends.

He nodded in acknowledgement of his clanmate, replying politely, "I apologize; I wasn't aware that you were accompanying us today." The dark tom sped past Slatenose at a brisk walk, clearly intending to lead their small patrol. Though Nettlefur had been assigned leader of this patrol, he said nothing. It was not important to him, and the lanky tom valued amity above control. Hollowcry seemed intent on being a nuisance, however, as he made a deliberately snarky comment and seemed to forget Nettlefur's name. Glad that Hazepaw was left at camp, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

But the NightClan tom's patience remained intact, and he calmly followed the patrol. As they reached StarClan's claws, the tom stalked across the old border, a chill running down his spine at the strangeness of walking freely in what used to be StoneClan territory. As they reached the border, he stopped. "Mark along the outside of StarClan's claws," he instructed, his mew calm. He reiterated what Roughtroat had told him, passing on the information dutifully. "We'll work our way up the new border. Ravenstar wants us to eliminate StoneClan's scent as much as we can, so feel free to go over the old markers." They were not the first NightClan patrol to mark these borders, but StoneClan's presence was not yet forgotten. They were one of many that NightClan would send out to assert their claim over the unfamiliar territory.

Character; Nettlefur
Word count; 347
Notes; heh heh >:3 It begins!!

[Deleted]

s l a t e n o s e

warrior, nightclan

Slatenose snorted at Hollowcry's rude interruption into the otherwise icy patrol. He just made things exponentially worse. She knew the tom to be of Blockwolf's group, but she didn't want to have any dealings with them. Hearing Nettlefur's pleasant, amicable response, she snorted again.

Oblivious. Absolutely oblivious. Hollowcry then matched his pace to her and slightly sped up. She narrowed her eyes a bit. She wanted to be left alone, not talked to.

“I hope you don't mind my being apart of this? Unless you happened to want some time alone with --Uh, oh yes: Nettlefur.”

"I actually didn't," she responded quietly. "He's too happy." She leaned in close to speak to Hollowcry, making sure that Nettlefur would not hear her. Better to appease the tom's desire for greatness than exacerbate the already botched patrol. As they reached their destination, Nettlefur spoke up:

"Mark along the outside of StarClan's claws. We'll work our way up the new border. Ravenstar wants us to eliminate StoneClan's scent as much as we can, so feel free to go over the old markers."

Slatenose nodded curtly and broke off, moving away from the two toms to begin marking the borders.

[Insidious]

Nettlefur's orders were given lesser the recognition they required, a dark brown ear flicking backward in dismissal of the words. Pale yellow eyes followed Slatenose's departure as she pivoted to break off in a separate direction, having no immediate inclinations to mark along StarClan's Claws as was asked of him. In his opinion, StarClan's Claws had been covered quite efficiently from previous patrols, therefore leaving room for Hollowcry to contemplate other territories in need of claiming. It was a race, factually – every clan wanted a piece of land. Sure, NightClan patrols could follow each and every order that spilled from Roughthroat and Ravenstar's jaws in regards to the claiming of StoneClan's former lands. But then again, NightClan authority wouldn't have placed Hollowcry upon one of said patrols if they wanted things to go according to plan.

Nettlefur was spied from the corner of the small tom's eyes, head rotating a fraction to establish a higher quality view upon him. By now, Slatenose had managed to create some distance between herself and the duo of toms – whether or not this had been a purposeful course of action currently irrelevant. Momentarily at a loss of interest for the antisocial she-cat, Hollowcry instead angled his paws in Nettlefur's direction; it was worthwhile scoping out the competition, if such an event was to be considered a competition at all. “Don't you think StarClan's Claws have already been taken care of numerous times?” Hollowcry's tail swept across the undergrowth beneath his paws, a grin cracking his stony expression in favour of portraying false kindness (as kind as Hollowcry could manage). It was no secret that he tended to dabble in the arts of manipulation, though it remained a secret precisely when he took to manipulation in order to achieve what it was he desired.

This was merely one of those moments.

“Ravenstar and Roughthroat wouldn't complain long about any extra space, so I say we break off to see what we can savage up from what the other clans have left behind.” StoneClan's aroma lingered in the air, Hollowcry's nose wrinkling in mild distaste. Not planning on wasting any more time with discussion, Hollowcry stood and pivoted, stalking off toward where StoneClan's scent was must abundant. “Tag along if you'd like.”

As leader of the patrol, though it was a term Hollowcry used loosely to define Nettlefur, he was somewhat... responsible for keeping the patrol in order. Like it or not, Hollowcry was simply one of his problems for the time being. Not like he was the only one, however. The poor tom was training Hazepaw, for StarClan's sake. No matter how greedy, Hollowcry would never feel the urge to steal such a job.

[Deleted]

The spiteful whispers exchanged between his two clanmates did little to phase the warrior. Though the NightClan was relatively small and it was easy to get caught up in the petty dramatics and small happenings, Nettlefur somehow managed to extract himself from the web that most cats found themselves in at some point. The world was so much bigger than NightClan. The sky was so much more complex than just sun and stars, and those themselves were far more complicated than he could ever imagine. Wonder for the world engulfed him, most days, and he could sit still and think about it for hours.

He'd begun to mark at StarClan's claws when the small black tom approached him, drawling some snide remark once more. Nettlefur glanced at him, wholly indifferent. "Not actually," the lanky tom replied calmly, flicking his ears, "the claws haven't been marked for at least three sunrises." By the time the tom had turned and began to leave, Nettlefur had already moved up the border, making sure that NightClan's presence was known. He considered speaking words that would stop the arrogant tom in his tracks, but let them die on the tip of his tongue, instead shrugging and finishing his job. Today was not the day he'd create conflict. Fleeting ideas of defending one's honor or ego meant nothing to him, and he allowed the small midnight-colored tom to continue.

Glancing over to the gray she-cat, the mottled tabby waited until she was finished with her marks before padding ambiguously after the tom, his long, swinging stride easily carrying him to fall in beside the small tom.

Hollowcry's antics were curious to Nettlefur, and he found himself feeling sorry for the little warrior. Was the black cat so unsure of his own pawsteps that he possessed some overpowering need to control those of others? He chose not to study his fellow NightClanner, instead sparing the tom the embarrassment, and not inquiring on the matter. 

Character; Nettlefur
Word count; 327
Notes; ~

[Deleted]

s l a t e n o s e

warrior, nightclan

Slatenose glanced back periodically at the two toms. Tension crackled in the air, but she only felt it coming from Hollowcry’s direction. There was something about that tom that she didn’t like—Nettlefur was much more companionable.

Not that Slatenose cared.

Self-patterned as antisocial, she had a very difficult time dealing with cats. Border patrols were usually her least favorite activity simply because it required small talk. On hunting patrols, a cat could carry her prey in her mouth and not have to worry about filling an idle silence with mindless chatter about the weather. Or, StarClan forbid, StoneClan.

Picking Hollowcry’s remark about extra territory out of the corner of her hearing, she flicked her ears in displeasure. Slatenose chose to not hold a stance on why StoneClan was driven out, choosing instead to wonder privately about how that tied into the warrior code and why Ravenstar felt it was right.

Finished with her marks, she set out to follow Nettlefur down the border. Hollowcry could have his own little traipse into StoneClan territory, but she wouldn't take any par—

With a yowl, Slatenose tripped and tumbled down into a large hole of some sort. Laying in a daze at the bottom, she shook her head and slowly got up, wincing at a pain in her paw. She ignored the sharp stabs as she walked and looked up, trying to figure out how to get out of the sharp slope. She guessed all the crazy weather they had been having washed away the natural incline that led into the hole, leaving behind a steep slope that would be difficult to maneuver even without an injured paw.

How did you manage this one?

--
notes: Nettlefur to the rescue!

[Insidious]

Hollowcry

A lopsided grin found itself entwined upon his dark muzzle once the rhythmical sound of Nettlefur’s paws at his heels chimed in with his own. It was good of him to tag along and to do so absent of complaints, though he could not help but feel considerably bothered by how easily he brushed off his arrogance and went along with it. Did he have nothing to say? It was unfitted to a patrol leader, though he presumed it was only proper of him to eventually step forth and take charge in the quieter, simpler minded warrior’s place. That was, until a problematic yowl filled his ears and forced him to pause in the midst of his travels. Annoyance fleetingly grasped at his expression, throwing a terse glance over his shoulders into the place where Slatenose had once been positioned, and the nearby hole that had undoubtedly consumed her. The last thing he wanted to waste his time doing was fixing an issue caused by a cat of lesser grace, though he didn’t suppose that there was enough convincing in the world that would get Nettlefur to leave at his side as though the incident with Slatenose had never occurred at all. So with regret and an air of unwillingness inscribed within the corners of his golden eyes, he pivoted on a fluent heel and approached the suspected hole with quick strides, expectant to see the victim’s face nestled in the bottom.

Reaching his destination, the tom-cat settled onto his haunches, tail tip flicking in amusement before resting across his forepaws. The corner of his brown lip twitched into an entertained grimace, finding her disastrous situation to be nothing but something he could look back to later on in his life and mock. He wondered, briefly, how she had managed to find herself waltzing on into the hole in the first place. However, he could not allow himself to expect that all watched their paws and remained mindful of their surroundings, and so slowly yet surely, he thought less of her until the situation was newly explainable. He looked in Nettlefur’s direction to see if he was upon the she-cat and her mess yet, curious of whether or not he, too, would find a source of comedy in her faults. It was in Slatenose’s best interest that he arrive sooner than later, seeing as Hollowcry had no inkling of initiative in his body to leap to her rescue. He simply was not the type to save another from embarrassment, no, he enjoyed savouring every ounce of it he could muster until it became unbearable through the eyes of the cat it affected. “Are you okay down there?” The warrior asked through forcibly clenched jaws, knowing that if he spoke too loosely he would surely burst into laughter. “Quite the tumble, I’m sure. Did you manage to hurt yourself?”

[Deleted]

The tom glanced back to see Slatenose fall, her yowl reaching his ears just moments later. In a heartbeat, he was at the entrance to the hole, fleet paws pausing as his green-brown eyes analyzed her predicament. As Hollowcry approached, venom already leaving his maw by way of disparaging words, Nettlefur reached his clanmate's side. She seemed capable of walking on her apparently injured paw, and he glanced over it, then back to the incline. Their small black companion peered down at them, clearly amused. Useless. He thought with a bitterness not common to his nature. Evaluating their surroundings, he discerned that there was no other way out. He spoke to the she-cat in a calm, soothing tone.

"I can help you up the slope," he began, keeping his eyes on her. "Go ahead and lean on me as much as you need to." He waited for her approval before he stepped over to press his mottled tabby pelt against hers as they started forward. He slid his claws out, letting them sink in for traction, ready to support both of them, should she need to fall back on him. They progressed slowly, sliding up the steep path in tandem. Catching her each time she fell back, he gave a final nudge to get her over the top before launching himself up, straight in to Hollowcry. The collision was only partially accidental, the bigger tom's shoulder sending the little black warrior sprawling from the impact. "Sorry," he apologized absently, gazing down at the smaller cat, "I thought you would have the sense to move."

Turning fluidly to Slatenose, he flicked his ears. "We need to get you to Smokefur." Padding forward, he offered his assistance once more, glancing back to their small companion, "You may do as you wish, but stay out of trouble." Returning his attention to the she-cat beside him, he waited for her to start towards NightClan camp.

Character; Nettlefur
Word count; 321
Notes; YOU NEVER SAID IT HAD TO BE GOOD OKAY.