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[sub]Interacting with: [@skitts] | [@sassy1085][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	It was a glorious day, at least. That was where the positives tended to end. Things along the borders were always quite iffy. Anything could happen. The next big war could be snowballed from a border incident, and most of them were. They were walls in which the clans were divided, entities of harsh justice that ensured there'd always be a contest to be had. Though, it wasn't an imperfect system. The clans could define their hunting grounds and could adapt to their own parts of the valley, differentiating them and creating an identity amongst the wild. A sense of order, contained in a small plot of land that rivalled the others. Those were the things to be glad of. Time and time again, Branchfall had wondered how life on the free market of preservation played out. Relying only on themselves was a hasty job, especially in the presence of four great clans and the dangers the valley had to offer. He pictured the rogues and the loners as being amongst the most headstrong and capable cats across the land, held back only by their stubbornness and lack of social wit.

	The perspective of borders was all too different from a cat who'd been on two sides of it. He'd seen one world and transitioned to another. That was a jarring experience. Life was different. The food was different. And whilst they all shared a conglomerate of ideas, religious beliefs and the all-encompassing Warrior Code, they were divided by a cultural significance and the great divider: thought. Branchfall had his own ideals pressed together into an ugly mess. And patrols like theirs were only the sharp reminders of the messes that had been made. The manifestations of an old world compared to the new; life before and the death of an old family member. He just hoped to StarClan that he wouldn't run into the cats he knew best. Whether they were family or just old friends, it was the last thing he needed.

	Because of this, Branch came across as rather hasty. He was at the front of the group, checking everything and sniffing around as if he were in a rush. At the least, he [i]tried[/i] to be thorough but couldn't hold himself up to the standards of a careful and detailed patroller. The first fifty heartbeats seemed to go off quite nicely. There wasn't an issue nor anything more than the faint scents of old reports. The roughened familiarity of a wild creature that skirted their territory was barely noticeable anymore, and so Branch breathed easily knowing that it wasn't anything cumbersome. Eventually, he grew tired of the silence between the three. It was deafening, getting in the way of his anxiety. The last thing he wanted was to silently stumble into a BirchClan patrol in the dead of morn.[/color]

[color=80D1B1][b]"Hey, Flamepelt,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]he began in a mumble,[/color] [color=80D1B1][b]"can you just start talking about something? Anything at all? New rumours, news or things of interest? I'd really appreciate it."[/b][/color]