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Silentsong pricked her ears, her eyes slightly rounded with worry. "Gingerkit says she's been having visions and strange dreams." The fur along her spine crept upward, the she-cat's paws pressing harder into the ground. "I think StarClan has approved of her... All she needs is yours."

Ripplefrost grunted as he leaped, the vole beneath his paws letting out an agonized squeal as his claws pierced into its body. He gently picked up the vole, slightly irritated that its pelt was ruffled and gunky with blood. The tom turned and made his way towards the clearing where the Patrol had split up. He lowered his head to the ground, placing his vole on the ground. 23:20, December 14, 2015 (UTC)

Firestripe shortly appeared at the clearing, dropping a trout onto the floor. He shook out his fur and sat down silently. ~FIrestripe

Nettlecloud sat in camp, his head hung low and his claws kneaded into the ground. Will that idiot Ripplefrost hurry up already?? Hunting doesn't take a moon! I have to talk to him about Otterstar and our plan.. but at the rate this is going, I mise well do it myself! sticks and stones may break my bones but words just might kill me. 23:44, December 14, 2015 (UTC)

Ripplefrost nodded to Firestripe, his ears pricking as he picked up the sounds of the rest of the patrol as they returned. Silently picking up his prey, the tom began to pad towards Camp, his tail held high in the air. Placing his vole beside the freshkill pile, the deputy eyed Nettlecloud. A deep wave of unwillingness settling in his chest. Ripplefrost beckoned the tom towards him, stepping aside from the Camp. 23:49, December 14, 2015 (UTC)

Otterstar awoke as the sun shone in his face, bright and reflective off of the heavy snow that had fallen the night before. He was finally feeling like he was getting over his cold, that had rendered him bed-ridden for several days. He pulled himself up and stretched his body, which ached from the lack of movement for such a long time. He shook out his pelt, flinging off the moss that clung to it. When he left his den, he was nearly blinded by the sudden burst of light. Only a fraction of the real thing had made its way into his den, and there was no escape as it bounced around off of the snow. He shut his eyes for a few moments, then slowly opened them, allowing them to adjust. He blinked several times as the wind picked up and blew loose snow flakes into his face. He felt his paws go numb as he realized that he had been standing in one spot for a long moment. He sighed and motioned towards the fresh kill pile, but instead decided to go out into the territory. He padded out of the camp on sluggish paws, swaying back and forth slightly as he walked. The river was frozen, and he could nearly see his reflection in the ice. He watched as snow drifted across with the wind, like waves lapping at the surface of the river. He looked up and noticed the cloak that had formed over the Shadowclan territory, the pine trees were very visible. He pondered the sight for a few moments, scanning the territory for signs of movement. He looked back down at the ice, rubbing his paw over it, removing the snow and allowing him to see himself. He narrowed his eyes, flicking his ears and twitching his whiskers as he braced the cold. It's time.-Otterstar

Nettlecloud padded towards Ripplefrost, his ears pricked. "Hmm. Oh, hello, Ripplefrost. Something you need?" He asked suspiciously, his meow sounding cynical and dark. sticks and stones may break my bones but words just might kill me. 23:55, January 6, 2016 (UTC)

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