a fox it was | prompt

[Dewfrost]

19. During a hunting patrol, your character and their clanmates happen upon a peculiar sight: a family of foxes, a mother and two pups, standing only a couple of fox-lengths away. An intense stare-down follows from there. How does your character deal with this scenario?

Hunting in ShadowClan always seemed to either go really well or really poorly. The marshlands were not a place that made hunting easy. There were many kinds of prey that only ShadowClan cats were brave enough to eat or daring enough to hunt. Leafbare had been particularly hard for ShadowClan, though in truth Dewfrost had never known a time where hunting was easy in the marshlands during the coldest part of the year.

Dewfrost had been keen to go on patrol today. Moons upon moons of wallowing in her self-inflicted grief, meant that she hadn't hunted or patrolled as much as she probably should have. When she had been called for patrols she hadn't exactly been enthusiastic, but she'd gone ahead with things, doing just enough to escape any ire from the leader or more senior warriors in the clan. Today they hunted near the Burnt Sycamore, though admittedly despite some improvements in hunting in recent weeks, they were struggling to find anything today. Everything smelt stale and old as though nothing had passed through anytime recently. Dewfrost was patrolling the undergrowth when she stopped suddenly, a new, stronger scent reaching her nose. "Do you smell that?" She asked, glancing swiftly at the cat nearest to her. Cautiously, she padded forward, and was finally able to see what she had scented. A fox. And not just one but three. Judging by the age of the smallest two, it looked to be a mother and her pups. Concerned her clanmate might burst through and startle them, she raised a tail and signalled for them to slow. "Up ahead. Look," Dewfrost encouraged. "What do you think we should do?"​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

❪ TAGS ❫ — // cw for mentions of death/gore

That scent... it's all too familiar. It floods Rooster's nostrils and stings his nose, dispatching a sense of impending panic right to his brain. Suddenly, he is brought back to that horrible day as a kit, the day his father's mangled body was dragged into camp. That foreign smell had been ingrained into his brain ever since, forever associated with that traumatic incident.

Roosterstrut can't believe it at first, but once he pokes his head through the undergrowth, the warrior freezes in place while his jaws drop agape. Its beady eyes were staring right back at him, as were the kits'. His heart nearly pounded out of his chest, his veins running icy cold, the blood thumping in his ears and threatening to drown out the sounds around him. Focus... focus, dammit! His internal voice barks. It's so hard when all Roosterstrut wanted to do was shrink into a ball and shiver like he had as a kit, but he couldn't afford to do that anymore. He was a warrior.

He forces himself back into reality, his vision teetering on the edge of blurriness and the tips of his toes nearly numbed from a near-panic. Roosterstrut shakily swallowed and managed, "We... W-We can't risk leading them back." He doubted that they would be able to kill that thing; it was double (or even triple) the size of a cat. Besides, he isn't sure if they even should. Would doing so bring him any peace? Would doing so bring his father any justice?

He shouldn't feel an ounce of hesitation, a shred of emotion toward the very creature that killed his father... but, as he stared wide-eyed at the two pups with it... he does. No, slaughtering the mother is not the answer here. It can't be the only answer. Someone else could get hurt in the process, and Roosterstrut does not want a repeat of what happened before.

Gathering himself, the orange tabby draws in a breath and suggests, "If we all rush toward it together, we might be able to scare it off." Foxes weren't that fearless. There was a chance that she would act aggressively out of defense of her kits, but how many cats would she take on before retreating? ​

 

[FERNDANCE]

"Smells like rain~" She had a hunter's nostrils but a jester's humour, and though she smiled gleefully, there was a ruffle to her agouti fur as she took further whiffs of the musky air. Fear dappled the stench and when it was obvious it wasn't coming from herself or Dewfrost, the identity of the mystery trespasser unraveled itself quickly. Moving to Dewfrost's side, the Lead Warrior paused as she locked eyes with a fox. It was a cruel irony, she thought, that the creature responsible for snatching away so many babies could even have any of its own. She waved her tail towards the vulpine, confident it would not know the meaning, but to ShadowClanners, it would look like the ticked tabby was greeting their adversary. It was always a decent gesture to offer niceties, even when you wanted to tear someone's throat out. Ferndance was confident that was where this patrol was leading, but Dewfrost hesitated to come to a decision until she knew what the rest of them were doing, and Roosterstrut... Roosterstrut. His story with the animal was more unkind than most, it made it surprising when he advocated for a safer solution.

She offered Roosterstrut a sympathetic look, her tail bunching closer to her hocks. "We have our own young on the way." She reminded with a wistful aura. In a moon or so, when these fox kits had grown up somewhat, Betonyfrost's own litter will arrive, maybe others too. Ferndance had no interest in letting bold young tods and vixens try their luck in ShadowClan's camp, knowing full well that all it took was a bad guard or raid for them to succeed. It was strangely pragmatic of the tabby, but Rooster's state caused her heart to pang mournfully for her younger friend. If these creatures still caused him discomfort, then they would need to be eliminated, and she would find any excuse to do so. Her pupils narrowed into slits as she entered a hunter's crouch, her ears pinned back to her skull. "If it puts up a fight, I can kill its young if the thought is too much for you all." she promised, lacking her usual 'half-joking' humour. Killing children was a funny thing to imply, not so much to actually do. Still, she knew she was likely just personifying the fox kits - it was difficult not to when they acted so similar to some of her own kin.
​

 

[Rainecho]

"What do I smell like?" she asks the lead warrior as she claims to be able to smell rain. She knows that she is referencing the weather but the joke was too easy to resist making it. Her nose scrunches up in laughter as she sticks her tongue out at the brown-striped warrior teasingly. Suddenly though, the whole patrol draws to a stop, the same scent flooding all of their nostrils. Her mismatched eyes immediately search for Roosterstrut's familiar ginger pelt. She knows his history with foxes, she knows he must be going through a whole slew of emotions right now. Immediately she moves to stand closer to him, offering her large frame for support should he need it. Her eyes flicker to him one more time as he speaks. Dewfrost asks what they should do and surprisingly, her friend is pragmatic. He was right, they could drive it away if they had to. "Perhaps we could follow it quietly for a bit" she suggests, her voice low. "Perhaps it is only passing through and it will leave our territory on its own" She hopes so, at least. They shouldn't have to fight for an unnecessary reason, shouldn't have to put their lives on the line if the fox and her kits were leaving on their own anyways.

Ferndance suggests that she could handle the act of killing another creature's young and Rainecho cannot help but nod in agreement. It would be a difficult task but if that is what it took... "I'd be willing to help you Ferndance, should we actually have to fight." She is still holding out hope that they wouldn't.
​

 

[Dewfrost]

Admittedly, Dewfrost knows little of Roosterstrut's past and the trauma he endured because of the foxes. His nervous tone does not go unnoticed by Dewfrost, and her green eyes study him carefully for a moment, quickly discerning there was more to it than general nerves. She gives him a sympathetic expression, remembering that whilst she had never settled on what predator had 'stolen' her kits, she had always suggested it could have been a fox or a badger.

Ferndance and Rainecho join them, suggesting killing the fox or her pups. Dewfrost isn't so keen to jump to that idea, but knows it would be necessary should the vulpine creature get spooked, and to protect her pups make a run for camp. "We could watch it for a while," Dewfrost agrees, nodding towards Rainecho. "No need to spill its blood or risk injury to ourselves if we do not need to." Following that idea, Dewfrost would keep an eye on the fox for some time, watching as it sniffed the ground, its pups playing around. Whether the fox knew they were there or not, she could not say, but after some time the fox eventually disappeared into the bushes with her pups at her heel. Hopefully, it would be heading south towards their border with ThunderClan.

// fox has left the immediate area but feel free to powerplay any potential altercation!​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

⊵ the burnt sycamore, a waste of scorched land. sure, its been quite sometime since the wildfire but the territory that surrounded the once proud standing tree was still in ruins with plant life struggling to grow properly and whatever did manage to bloom was quickly eaten up by passing critters who dive right back into the much healthier underbrush to escape any predatory gazes.

geckoscreech doubts they'll find anything here but continues to follow after the advancing patrol regardless, listening to their idle chatter. they only make it a few tail-lengths further before everyone's senses is suddenly assualted by an acrid, nose-scrunching stentch that comes from a family of foxes. a mother is sniffing along the ground closeby, bushy orange tail sweeping back and forth while her pups weave between her legs yipping at one another. they remain undectected for now but it doesn't stop the fur along her neck from rising in unease.

roosterstrut suggests rushing it to scare it off but that of course comes with the risk of the vixen retaliating out of instinct to protect her young. ferndance nearby drops into a hunter's crouch, offering to do more of the dirty work of elimanating the pups with rainecho offering her support if it must come down to that. aquamarine eyes flick from her clanmates to the fox who could be seen disappearing into the undergrowth with her babies in tow. "dewfrost is right, we want to avoid throwing ourselves into a needless fight. it seems like she's already moving on but let's follow after it to ensure it is completely off our territory." geckoscreech mews composedly, ear flicking towards the rest.

with that being said the lead warrior begins to slink after the fox, making sure to keep good distance between her and the canine to avoid being noticed by it.​

【 THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.】

 

[Halfshade]

Halfshade does not often sympathize or care for prey nor predator. Life was a cycle and she was part of it, eat or be eaten; she fixed herself somewhere in the middle and felt comforted in knowing she was not at the bottom like a mice or frog was. Or like cats who didn't know their place. The torbie follows along the patrol in silence before frowning in the direction of the fox; a mother and her kits.
She had told Smogmaw already in private, but the clan had yet to be told and she was bursting at the seams to tell her news because it was something she'd wanted for a long time though given this was ShadowClan she doubted much response would be given. A few cats would say congratulations but most of them like their leader would grunt dismissively or give ignore it entirely; that was just how they were here. Joy, birth, newleaf, all things that ShadowClan didn't seem excited for. They rather their morose dwelling on nonsensical things and whining. It was embarrassing sometimes.
The queen sighed, her clanmates discussed fighting and driving it off; Ferndance gleefully volunteering to slaughter the smaller ones and something about it all made her stomach heave in discomfort. Halfshade didn't care about foxes, but she maybe it was due to her pregnancy that she was so highly sensitive to the mere mention of killing kits, even ones that weren't hers or cats for that matter. All she can think of is the bloodied white fur at her paws in a nest of shredded papers in an alley. When Dewfrost suggests just following it and not picking a fight she feels her shoulders lose their tension and quickly agrees alongside Geckoscreech, "I second that, let's just tail it."

---

[Ooc]
-Prior to pregnancy announcement.
​

 

[RIBBITLEAP]

Did his family once look like this?

He and Leaping Toad, did they weave between Geckoscreech's legs as they played, as the fox cubs before him do? It seems so far away now - his youth, a time before the clans, a time when his brother stood beside him. Were they content, just as this fox family was?

He knows this season, remembers it for the last one he spent in full with Leaping Toad beside him - knew it for kit games at first, for rising tensions second. Perhaps this is why Ribbitleap can only watch on, can only observe the fox family with a bittersweet feeling welling up inside him. Should a fight break out, should this patrol need to defend itself, Ribbitleap can only imagine the fox family's parallels with his own will only continue into tragedy.

He's glad the patrol doesn't feel a need to attack, but is wary about the need to follow. Precautions are precautions of course, but should a fight break out - should this patrol need to defend itself - Ribbitleap can only imagine the fox family's parallels with his own will only continue into tragedy.

Still he nods his head in agreement, looking to his mother for reassurance. Does she see it too? Memories of a time that only feels like a distant dream, now? "Let's go, then."
​