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It was a cold time of year to travel this far into the mountains that marked the northern part of the territory, but now that the Kingdom existed, carving a space for themselves just outside MistClan's borders, patrols in the mountainous north were essential. Rainshade fluffed her fur up against the chilly breeze that cut between the icy trees, heavy with morning frost. She was grateful for her thick coat in times like these. More than that, she was grateful her apprentice boasted one, too. Taking a young cat into this cold without ample protection felt cruel.

Though the border was on her mind, it wasn't her intention to take Daisypaw there. Soon, in a larger patrol, with more support, they could explore that stretch of their territory. Today, Rainshade merely wanted to let Daisypaw explore the Stonemark, something they hadn't done since her apprentice was first given to her, and they'd first explored the territory together.

Maybe, if they were lucky, the historian would be present, tending to the Stonemark dutifully. Even one of their apprentices would be nice. (Admittedly, Rainshade didn't think it was likely - on cold days like today, the historians tended to bundle up back in camp.) 

As always, the towering smooth walls of the Stonemark, the remains of a river that once cut through the mountains, made Rainshade's breath catch in her throat. "It always seems so unnatural," she said with a smile at her apprentice. "How perfectly smooth the walls are. But the historian assures me it was made by the old river." Old felt like an inadequate word. Historic, maybe. Ancient. "Have you spent much time with the historian? Or any apprentices studying under them?" Maybe Daisypaw was a bit too young. Rainshade didn't recall working with the historian (or weavers, for that matter) until she was a few moons older than Daisypaw was now. "They do such interesting work."