pafp alleyways and payphone calls // hunting

[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I AM SORRY THIS IS ALWAYS HOW IT GOES ❀❀​

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periwinklebreeze & 13 moons & demi-boy & he/they & windclan moor runner​

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Peri has always found the moorland sto be a comfort. Its nice sometimes, to simply lose himself to the taste of the grass and dew, in the feel of the wind, as he runs. To lose himself to the thrill of the chase. It is with this in mind that they set off, a small patrol cresting the hills in the early dawn light. "D-do you scent anything yet?" peri asks, voice soft in the morning silence - sending a glance towards sedgepaw, who is nearest him in that moment.

— the wind blows loudest when you've got your eyes closed ❀

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: please wait for @SEDGEPAW
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a lithe figured black and white tom with a false-pointed pattern and clear blue eyes that gleam periwinkle in the right lighting. he seems perpetually worn and exhausted, with heavy bags beneath his eyes and a slouched figure. he has a speech impediment which leaves him with a stutter and sometimes even completely non-verbal, and his fluffy tail is adorned with daisies.
  
  — physically medium && mentally easy && pacifist
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ccccff]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

/ retro to warrior ceremony

As the moorland starts to cool, so does WindClan start to expand. The early hours of morning are the only ones hospitable to productive patrolling—any later and the relentless Greenleaf sun beats down on the unshaded fields, and everyone hides away under the sparse patches of gorse or tree cover to spare themselves the worst of it. Today, the sky remains soft and gray far later than it has in moons, so the small patrol around Sedgepaw and Periwinklebreeze is the third to have branched out before noon.

He crests over the hill with jaws parted, focused on catching a scent of anything from downwind. Nothing catches his nose. "No..." Sedge starts. Just then, however, something does stand out. Sedgepaw drops to a low crouch and gestures toward the bottom of the hill, where he's spotted a fluffy songbird pecking at the stubby grasses there.

Sedgepaw inches forward. It's an easy kill from there—a quick pounce and clean bite through the neck. But then, startled by his swift kill, two more birds dart out from the grass! One follows the nearby line of the hill, heading straight in the direction of the patrol. The other goes higher, perhaps still low enough for someone tall to catch.

"Woah!" Sedgepaw calls, watching the bird shoot up the hill. "Catch it, Peri!" he caterwauls excitedly.​