Maplestream: WillowClan Territory
Maplestream watched the small patrol turn back towards camp, the small skinny stray at their heels, looking about anxiously. She flicked her tail in amusement at the skinny tom's behavior. It was evident that he was not accustomed to wild territory; given away by the shiny kittypet tag hanging from his neck. Fernstar is going to throw that thing into the rapids when she sees it! That's if she thinks he can cut it as a Clan cat. . . Fernstar was very receptive to accepting new cats into WillowClan, especially in this harsh of a leaf bare; but Maplestream knew her selection wasn't at all random or unconditional. Accepting a cat into the Clan who could not pull their own weight could be just as damaging as not having enough cats. The last thing the Clan needed right now was another mouth to feed who wasn't helping to feed other mouths.
Looking down as the patrol left, she wondered if she should follow them back to camp and see how Fernstar was going to deal with the newcomer. But she quickly jerked her thoughts away from the newcomer; her task was more important. It was important that she completed her task; not just to spare herself the anxiety, but for Fernstar's safety as well. Her Clanmates would wonder where she had gone, but she couldn't be concerned about that now. It would only be a day or two; and she needed to keep her friend safe. Making sure the patrol was out of sight and noticing the direction of the wind, she quietly jumped down from the tree she was in and looked around. She could see where the glade of tall trees thinned out onto flatter land and approached the rapid nearest to camp. She would make her way in that direction. When Fernstar leaves with Blackpelt at dawn, they will almost certainly follow the rapids. It's the easiest way to explore territory and makes it harder to get lost. I need to make sure not to let my scent linger for too long. . . Padding sideways into a cluster of bushes, she found a pile of wet leaves. Much to her disgust, she knew the musty smell of the damp dirt would be an excellent way to hide her scent. She flopped down and rolled over on the pile a few times making sure to dampen all her fur. Shaking her pelt and cringing at the scent, she broke into a run following the edges of the rapid. She would be back before anyone noticed she was gone. . . she hoped.