AN UNFAMILIAR SENSE | a hunting patrol


Frosted leaves marked Ferndance's path through the marshlands, each one precariously stepped over to avoid anything that could alert prey. Though her mind wandered to the Carrionplace, imagining the number of rats to be uncountable, she took herself and the patrol towards the border in WindClan, where she hoped prey fleeing the bite of the moors would be pre-killed by monsters. It was a gamble motivated by an otter so far into ShadowClan territory, a desire not to compete with predators that had been so close to taking her life last Leafbare.

She was confident it would pay off. She didn't realise how confident she should've been. Dinner was swift to rear its narrow head and comically large ears.

Nibbling at untouched greenery on their side of the Thunderpath was a hare and, at the sight of it, Ferndance felt her mouth water and eyes bug out. She entered a hunter's crouch and moved closer, eyeing the pinch of fat on its sides as it curled up to feast. 'Oh... you're a big doe.' Big enough to feed the Nursery thrice over, she felt (after last Leafbare, the idea of it going to them felt right). She pressed forward, her tawny pelt dimmed in the shadows.

With a jump, she tackled the large lapine, teeth latched around the back of its neck as she dragged it to the floor, her hind legs kicking wildly at the flanks of the creature, leaving behind streaks of red deep enough to stain her paws. Prey and predator struggled until Ferndance bit down harder, cutting off the hare's air supply in her best attempt to mimic a killing blow for a smaller creature. Eventually, it stilled and the she-cat let go, standing up to loom over her kill. Her sides heaved from exertion. "I'm going to need help carrying you..."

// no encounter
- rolled a 12 for catching prey, rolled a 19 for prey size

 

Being so close to the Windclan border would be a boon, she could all but assume. Despite the cold snap, and the death of the moor with the fire, Scalejaw knew that prey was more fruitful there then the way the mud was all but freezing over, with the way that it stuck your paws and your lungs. A wise decision, all in all, by Ferndance to take them here. She splits off from the rest of the group, ears perked towards the border.

A mouse, dangerously close to the line. A hesitated moment and it strays back towards the marshland- Scalejaw snaps forward, claws sinking into it. It was still small, but bigger then some mice, to which she was thankful. She breathes out as she delivers the killing blow, picking up her catch and heading back towards where she could see Ferndance not too far off. Glowering eyes blinked and softened at the catch in front of her.

A rumble left her chest- a purr?- as she praised the other warrior. "Well done. A healthy, massive, hare." She said with a grin after setting down her mouse. Ears perked in thought. "Did you have to chase it all?" She questioned, moving her- and her now comparable small catch- closer to observe the doe better.
  • "speech"
    // rolled a 14 for catching and a 6 for prey size! one point
  • 90837339_Hn8Fr3CdBYv9Dmx.png
  • SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, lead warrior of shadowclan, sixty-six moons.
    A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
    mentoring no one
    padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

Basilpaw had of course failed to find anything, didn't matter how hard he searched or for how long this marsh land was anything but merciful to him...meanwhile look at Ferndance over there!, having done more then succeed but outdone herself!. If it had been him, if Basilpaw had been the one who had caught something as big like that...even Lividsmoke would look his way for sure...tch,tch. " Oh congrats Ferndance!, that's such an impressive catch !!" He said too cheerfully, and although he was always too much this time there was something off, something bitter lingerd at the back of his words, his voice, his faked emotions. Eyes were wide as he stared at the former lead warrior's hare with selfish jealousy.

// prey roll; 4 - no prey
points; 0




 
In all of her season-cycles being alive, she does not recall one leaf-fall that has felt like leaf-bare. Yes, she remembers the biting cold, the biting winds and the periods of starvation that Shadowclan has gone in to... But she does not remember this, where prey was hard to find underneath the scent of rime and ice, where nesting materials were stretched thin... Shadowclan always ended up making it out, even when it seemed bleak, but this year...? Could she say the same>

Perhaps it is this absent-minded foolishness of getting too deep within her thoughts that causes her to not find anything despite being a half-decent hunter, frustration rolling through her like waves as she sniffs at a frost-bitten fern. Absolutely nothing, of course, she thinks quite bitterly, sweeping her tail over the ground in sheer frustration- claws dig in to the needle-nest pelt of pine below. The damp marsh-floor underneath is frozen, sends a shock through her as she flexes her paws over it. This simply isn't normal, she turns her eyes to the sky as if it would have answers.

Scalejaws awe-stricken words bring her back out of her thoughts, pulled from the bubbling cauldron ready to boil over, and she picks her way over to take in the scene. Ferndance has caught a massive rabbit, and Scalejaw, herself, has a decently sized mouse. She smiles, clenching her teeth together quite hard as she does so.

"Beautiful catch, Ferndance..." she purrs her own encouragement, slow and steady as to not display the stinging feeling of failure. "And you, too, Scalejaw..." she blinks at the lead warrior, dipping her head as she grinds her teeth. Basilpaw has not caught anything yet... "It's all frost back there, by the way... Be careful," she finally lets some amusement bleed from her tongue as she gestures back from where she had been sniffing around, giving a fair warning that hopefully didn't pin too much of the failure to catch anything on her.

  • rolled a 4, no prey.
  • mapletuft ʚ♡ɞ cider
    cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 53 months
    shadowclan warrior ʚ♡ɞ mentoring n/a
    long-furred chocolate torbie/cinnamon tabby chimera ʚ♡ɞ elegant & flowy
    "speech, F17E23" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
    widowed ʚ♡ɞ bisexual
    smells like spice & cool night air ʚ♡ɞ warm & crisp
    penned by chuff
 

As his mentor finishes speaking, a sudden commotion kicks up nearby. Black fur on black feathers, a set of shiny white teeth snapping at a fine-boned neck. A frustrated growl rumbles in Lavenderpaw's throat as he grapples a bird nearly as big as he is. Its greenish-black plumage and narrow beak mark it as a crow; a fitting first catch for the sullen, watchful fledgling. If it doesn't escape from him, that is.

He puts his full weight into wrestling it down, flattening it to the frosty earth with a stubborn huff of breath. It squawks in surprise, the frantic beating of its wings renewed with fervor until Lavenderpaw can barely see its neck past its feathers. Overwhelmed and tired, the plaintive cry comes involuntarily: "Mapletuuuuuft!!" Humiliating.

  • /rolled a 15 for catching and a 15 for size 😭 +3 points
    anyone's free to hold this thing down for him to kill LMFAO
  • LAVENDERPAW he/him, apprentice of shadowclan, 6 moons
    a small, spiky-furred black smoke tom with odd eyes and low white. he's resentful of being dumped at shadowclan's paws by his nonna, and avoids his new clanmates as much as he can, but in truth he's a compassionate young cat who romanticizes the world around him. he holds a deep fascination with birds of prey. ic opinions, he is in his pre-teen angst phase and it will get worse before it gets better.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    penned by solaire@funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.

 
  • Wow
Reactions: MAPLETUFT
Padding along, Ivypaw finds herself feeling hopefully. There had been a fair amount of success with the hunting patrols being sent out recently, so why would today be any different? The cats around her quickly begin catching prey, a few of them without success. All in all, she'd say they were doing well today. Trudging along, her nose twitches with the scent of a frog, much to her surprise. Turning her attention towards the frog, she drops into her hunter's crouch, easing towards the frog as silently as she could, before pouncing. "'ot it!" She exclaims around the frog in her jaws, trotting over to rejoin the patrol.
  • ooc: rolled a 12 for catching prey & a 7 for prey size! 1 point
  • ✶ ivypaw. apprentice of shadowclan ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆。𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
    ㅤafab female, she/hers | unknown sexuality, single
    ㅤ09 moons old | ages every 00/02/00
    ㅤapprentice | mentored by tba
    ㅤlh blue tortoiseshell smoke
    ㅤnpc xx npc | sister to carrionpaw
    ㅤwritten by halimede, ic opinions | tags
 


He knew the weight of the frost and colder days. He knew it meant more hungry bellies and shorter days. Fortunately, they could be blessed to be hunting later in the day, eyes keen on night vision and his especially and extra trained for it. He quite enjoyed hunting at night.

And he probably would do so tonight. Tall limbs shrunk low as he stalked the undergrowth, frosted pinetree limbs glistening in the rare patch of light. The dark warriors tail lashed behind him. He expected by now a scent of something. But his luck was near nor there- not even a scent of frog eggs, as gross as it was someone would eat it.

Fortunately for the rest of the patrol, they managed something at least. And he'd quickly pause at the call of an apprentice, Icey gaze falling over ivypaw before quickly pulling himself forward. Two thin paws land to press the feathered creature down, it's calls and squawks of anger making his black ears press down. "Kill it. I got it for you." He rumbled, voice devoid. He held no jealousy, but a bit of pride maybe.

Interacting with @LAVENDERPAW
Apprentice tag @Carrionpaw
Rolled 10, no prey.//

 
78289620_DdxzgsgtzQeo57a.png
"Oh, Ferny, look - we match!" Needledrift pressed against her mate with a warm purr, her words and purr muffled by the (smaller) rabbit clutched in her crooked jaw. Ivypaw and Lavenderpaw come up with their own catches, and Needledrift can't help but smile at the hoard they had managed in their short patrol.

Mapletuft's words are an icicle to the good mood - a small one, but stinging nonetheless. Frost all the way back... the cold season was catching up to them faster than they could prepare for it. A grimace rose to replace her jolly smile. "We should head back before it gets too cold. It's dangerous to stay out in the cold too long..." She thought of those long nights on the mountain, the air thin and her whiskers frozen next to Orangeblossom's -

oop. Best not to think that hard about it, best to just get back to camp before the freeze settled upon them.

// rolled a 15 for prey; 12 for size - 2 points
 
Plumpaw pads lightly through the leaf-littered undergrowth, each step careful and measured. Her mind is sharply focused, ears twitching at even the smallest rustle. Hunting with Mirestar nearby gives her a sense of reassurance, even if they aren't right at her side. It's the quiet confidence in knowing she's not truly alone out here that fuels her steps, as she scents the cool breeze, searching for any sign of prey. After a few quiet minutes, her patience is rewarded. Just ahead, she spots movement—something small and plump, perhaps a young squirrel or a plover that's wandered a bit too far from its usual ground—definitely a bird of some sort, it looks like. Plumpaw narrows her eyes, sinking into a low crouch, muscles coiling as she judges the creature's distance. It pecks at a patch of grass, completely unaware of her presence, its feathers fluffed against the morning chill.

Holding her breath, Plumpaw inches closer, every muscle taut. With a final burst of energy, she leaps, paws outstretched. The prey tries to flee, but it's too late. She lands squarely on top of it, her claws gripping firmly as she delivers a swift, practiced bite. In just a heartbeat, the struggle is over, and she's left standing with her catch—a plump pigeon, its feathers fluffed up, adding to its size and making it seem all the more impressive. A smile tugs at her mouth as she admires her catch. It's not massive, but it's definitely enough to make a decent meal for one or two hungry cats back in camp. She stands up, chest puffed with pride, glancing around to see if her mentor might have noticed her successful hunt.

[ rolled an 11, then another 11 for prey size ]
@MIRESTAR mentor tag!​