>> FALCONDOWN <<
> molly <> 30m <> deputy <> stoneclan border <> tags: quietmouse, breezesong, wölfin
This is a good patrol, she knows this well. The dappled deputy keeps a good mental note of all her clanmates strengths, and she knows quite well the prowess of the two she's invited along. If anything happened, they would be fine. She would make sure of that anyhow, but injury was less likely. Once at the border, her quick pace slows so the three cats can do a thorough check. After she marks the border, Falcondown raises her head and opens her mouth to scent around. Nothing aside from Stoneclan's scent so far... Just that large thunderpath a while away, and that thing always reeked. Though a more familiar scent seemed nearby...
One of her ears twitch, and her fur bristles. Falcondown wasn't actually that good at scenting, honestly, her strengths lie mainly in battle and command, but she knows the scent of blood very well. That distant scent is blood. Two realities make themselves known in her analytical brain-- either this is the scent of something to eat, or someone to save. Either is good enough a reason to divert. "Quietmouse, stay here and be ready to run. Breezesong, follow me and be ready." While harsh, the harshness is necessary in her eyes. After assuring Breezesong is at her side, the burly molly begins to run up a slope across a short field, ducking under the thunderpath's railing as she pulls herself up onto the curb. She raises her head as high as she can to see, and upon seeing the body of a
cat, she finally shares an emotion with the world. Worry flows like a river off her pelt, assailing the nose of her nearby companion. "Tell Quietmouse to run to camp and prepare them for an injured cat, then come back to me to act as guard while I bring this cat back. Be cautious." She commands, eyes briefly flicking over to Breezesong. Without another word, Falcondown sprints down the paved road towards the cat.