Sunhigh shouldn't be so cold {Icy}

[kitty]

The day had dawned cold and breezy, a fine dusting of snow dusting everything in sight, and frost covering whatever the snow had missed. It was pretty then, if just a bit chilly for Palestar's tastes, but pretty all the same.

However, now, at sunhigh, the snow remained. The frost stubbornly refused to melt away. Despite the fact that the sun was straight overhead, it was still just as cold as it was at dawn. It was definitely leafbare, no doubt about that. No cat would be able to deny this fact. Leafbare was here and wouldn't be going away anytime soon, not for a whole season when newleaf came around.

Palestar had left a little before sunhigh on the sunhigh patrol, Appleclaw in tow. His pale ginger fur was now fluffed up against the cold in an effort to keep warm, and it helped a bit. Combine that with the fact that he and Appleclaw had run the whole way to the WindClan border and he was about as warm as he'd get. Much warmer than he'd be right in the middle of the season. His rather thin pelt wasn't the greatest for chilly weather.

"Alright, Appleclaw, all we've gotta do is go down the WindClan border, place a few border markers, and we can go back to camp and get warm," he meowed, encouraging himself as much as the she-cat, upon reaching the beginning of the border. "Let's get going!"

[Icy-son]

Appleclaw;; RiverClan Senior Warrior

Leafbare was certainly beginning to take its toll on the forest, the frosty air was chilling the older warrior's pelt. Her thin fur couldn't keep the icy breeze away from her undercoat, but when she was curled up with the rest of the warriors in the den, she felt warm as the sun. Her amber eyes darted toward the leader of her Clan, Palestar. He seemed itching to get going, as was the ginger warrior.

Appleclaw's nose twitched as a small horsefly tried to fly up her nose, and a small sneeze escaped her. A spasm escaped her body, and a leaf found its way under her paw. As she stepped on it with her body weight, it crackled. A young water vole screeched slightly, and dug into its reed-covered home.

Her claws dug into the softer soil, as a tiny hiss escaped her jaws. Something was telling her that there would be some difficulties during the border patrol. Her gaze brightened as the tom began to speak. Her expression was unreadable, with her eyes closed.

"Down to the WindClan border and back? I think that sounds wonderful." She purred in return, almost choking out a laugh. She followed the RiverClan leader in his same pace, waving her tail from side to side.

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[kitty]

Palestar kept up a rather quick pace, swerving easily around frozen clumps of grass, in an effort to keep a bit warmer. He had to keep his claws unsheathed in an effort to get better purchase on the slick, icy ground; the marshy land near the WindClan border had frozen over a bit here and there, leaving some places slick and some icy and cold. Luckily RiverClan cats were used to being wet, and Palestar had lived through enough leafbares to be used to the chilliness that the snows and frosts brought to the waters. "Then patrol we shall!" he meowed in return, keeping up his steady trot.

He glanced over at Appleclaw after a bit of patrolling in silence. So far the border had been quiet; not even a rabbit was to be seen over on the WindClan side. Although they didn't much care for the stench of horseplace, it seemed (Palestar sure didn't; horses reeked!), so that was unsurprising. "WindClan seems quiet today, eh? Maybe we'll get lucky and their sunhigh patrol will have headed for ThunderClan's border instead of ours," he mewed, watching his frozen breath billow up from his mouth as he spoke. He could see when Appleclaw breathed - the cold air gave away every breath she took, as he was his did too. "No wonder Twolegs don't stay at the lake during leafbare; without pelts like we have, they have to freeze," he meowed, making conversation so as to lighten up the somewhat dreary atmosphere. "I get cold even with my fur!" he added with a bit of a purr of amusement.

[Icy-son]

Hmm, perhaps Palestar was right after all.

The borders seemed extremely quiet, and there wasn't a single rabbit in sight. The moorland was covered in thin frost, which could easily be melted by the warmth of her tounge. The grass underpaw was clumping in her short fur, and she gave a small growl. "Mouse dung. Why does frost cling to my fur and not yours, huh?" she muttered loudly, turning her amber gaze toward him.

The horseplace was in sight, and their dung could be as big as a cat; Appleclaw knew that from experience. She accidentally fell in one as a kit, and it took almost a moon to wash it off. She always seemed in a foul mood, but she was just matching her smell. Eh, it didn't matter much anymore. At least they can go back to camp when this is all over.

[/size]

[kitty]

Palestar glanced down at Appleclaw's leg and belly fur, and sure enough, clumps of frost and snow were clinging to her ginger pelt. Upon further inspection of his own fur, he also realized that the she-cat was correct; snow was indeed sticking to her pelt much more than his own thin fur. He puzzled over this a moment, having never given much thought to it. In the end, the only solution he could come up with was the one he voiced aloud. "Maybe snow and water stays in your fur better. Water runs right off my smooth fur. Does it do that to yours?"

He was attempting to get to know his warriors better, as he usually did. A good leader knew each of his Clanmates as not only a warrior, but a friend, too, which was what Palestar attempted to do. He might not be the wisest leader in the Clans, but he certainly tried to get along with all of his warriors. No cat could deny that. And he even struck up conversations with cats from other Clans at Gatherings. No, not the wisest, but definitely one of the most social.

With the horseplace now in sight, all the duo had to do was go down the border, placing scent markers as they went. The border markers hadn't been refreshed for a couple days; it would need to be done today so they would stay strong. The foul scent of horse and horse dung reached his nose, and he wrinkled it against the stench. Combine those two scents with the smell of Twoleg, dog, and Thunderpath, and you had an all-around revolting smell.

"Horseplace reeks," he commented.

[Grim]

RUSSETFANG

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i know what girls like.[/size][/color][/center]

A low rumble of disapproval thundered in Russetfang’s chest. He glowered at the hole the water vole had vanished into; thoroughly disgusted that he had missed it. His disheartened gaze fell to his empty, outstretched forepaws. He sighed softly and pulled his paws beneath him, straightening himself. He stared blankly at the frozen marsh around him, his gaze targeting the barren expanse of WindClan territory opposite from where he sat. His stare was indifferent, with maybe the slightest tinge of aversion. The windswept moors seemed bleak and empty of cats at the moment, which didn’t surprise the warrior. He had awoken early that day—as in, pre-dawn early—feeling a peculiar urge to hunt. ”I doubt WindClan is even up this early. Probably still curled up in their dens like mice,” he scoffed aloud, one ear flicking back in superiority. He sat a little straighter at that thought and averted his gaze from WindClan territory, turning his attention instead on a sudden scuttle nearby.

Three voles and an hour later, the warrior had just settled into tranquility. His cache of prey was unearthed nearby and the tom had taken a short break before heading back to camp to simply bask in the diluted afternoon light. His serene atmosphere was suddenly pierced by the sound of approaching paw steps. Instinctively, Russetfang fell into a tense crouch, his bright ginger fur fluffing out to make the large tom seem almost titanic. However, when his leader’s voice broke out over the quiet marsh, the warrior snapped out of his territorial mode. He shook his large head and rose to his paws in an attempt to make his fur lie flat. When Palestar and Appleclaw strode into view, Russetfang dipped his head in greeting. He gave his white chest fur a quick lick, impulsively still trying to get his vibrant pelt to lie flat. ”Good day, Palestar, Appleclaw,” he mewed, his voice cordial and a friendly smile on his lips. ”Hunting is decent today, Palestar,” he informed his leader, flicking his downy tail in a flourish towards the three voles lying nearby. Perhaps it had been luck that had drawn the voles out today, but Russetfang had been quick to dispatch of them.[/size][/color]