sensitive topics BEAUTY AND DESTRUCTION ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ HUNTING PATROL

The newest addition to Flamestar's council leads the hunting patrol past Snakerocks, towards the edge of their land. It might be a good place to find prey as life slowly begins to seep back into the forest with the arrival of Newleaf. A warm breeze filters through the woods, pleasantly acting as a reminder of the end of cold Leafbare nights. It makes him think. . . he had joined ThunderClan during Newleaf as well, had he not? Had it really been twelve moons since then? It was as shocking as it was unbelievable — a full set of seasons had passed, and so much had happened. . . Roaringsun had been a ThunderClanner for longer than he'd been a kittypet.

His thoughts drift with the wind as it carries a familiar terrifying scent through the air. Fox. He recalls the one that had attacked Ravenblaze not long ago and wonders if it's the same one. "Careful." The warrior warns his patrol, but especially Berrypaw; if anything happened to him, Roaringsun would not forgive himself ( and Raccoonstripe and Nightbird would tear him apart ). He presses onwards. If there is a fox settled in their territory, they ought to chase it out.

As the smell goes stronger so does the. . . crying? Not like a newborn kitten, but the noise is high-pitched enough he figures it's some baby animal whelping in the forest for its mother. Still, with the scent of fox so predominant in the air, he doesn't like where this is going.

When they break through the thicket to where the whining is loudest, they are hit by the scent of rot and death. A red fox lies motionless on the grass, its eyes vacant of any sign of life. Next to her, in a burrow beneath a tree, are its cubs yelping in distress. "Oh no no no." The tom inhales sharply. They — he is faced with a dilemma. What to do with the cubs. He doesn't want to kill them, they're just young babies. . . but he can't bring them to camp so they can be taken care of. Roaringsun stares at his patrolmates, brows furrowed and ears flattened. What should they do?

Still, and perhaps for lack of better judgement, he approaches the den. Carefully, like the mother could spring back to life anytime ( as nonsensical as that was ). Foxes were predators. They had killed many and would continue to do so as they fought for food. And yet, Roaringsun could not help but feel empathy for the orphaned cubs. Were they hungry? Cold? Should he care so much?
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚

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ROARINGSUN.BIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
ㅤmale (he / him)ㅤ/ㅤunsure of sexuality, single ; crushing on hawkspine
ㅤ17 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 14th of the month
ㅤlead warrior of thunderclan
npc x npcㅤ/ㅤnpc siblings
ㅤmentoring Berrypawㅤ/ㅤmentored by Copperfang and Leafhusk
"speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
ㅤpenned by nocthymiaㅤ/ㅤmessage hypmic on discord for plots!
lion-like in stature, roaringsun is characterized by his golden fur, cream 'mane' and strong legs. long-furred with longer strands on his cheeks, one cannot tell he once was a soft-born kittypet before joining thunderclan as an apprentice.

PROMPT: Your patrol encounters a dead fox who has recently kitted, and her cubs are still alive... what do you do with them, if anything?
@Berrypaw. app tag!
 
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Meadowfur had scented the fox at the same moment Roaringsun warned the patrol, her muscles tensing instinctively. She had been hoping for a peaceful hunt, a chance to stretch her legs and contribute to the fresh-kill pile, but of course, ThunderClan's territory never stayed quiet for long.

She followed the lead warrior through the undergrowth, paws light, eyes sharp. Her nose wrinkled as the smell of death thickened in the air. Great.

Then came the sound—high-pitched, sharp cries. Not the mewling of a lost kit, but something similar. When they broke through the thicket, the scene became clear. The fox lay stiff in the grass, its vacant stare unseeing. The source of the noise was tucked beneath a tangle of roots—cubs. Meadowfur's ears twitched. She blinked at them, then at Roaringsun, who had moved toward the den, his expression drawn tight. "Well, that's a problem," she muttered, stepping up beside him. Her gaze flicked between the dead fox and its young, tail lashing once before settling. "Guess that explains the smell."

She exhaled, shifting her weight. Foxes. A dead mother and her helpless offspring. They'd seen kits orphaned before—too many times—but this wasn't the same. Foxes weren't helpless for long. "What do we do?" she asked, half to Roaringsun, half to the rest of the patrol. She wasn't eager to kill something so small, but leaving them here wasn't a great option either. Not if they grew up remembering the scent of cat as something to hunt and neither was she pleased with the idea of t leaving them to succumb to a slow painful death without their mother.
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    MEADOWPAW THUNDERCLAN KITTEN ; SHE / HER
    LIGHTSTRIKE X MOONWHISPER SISTER TO SCARLETPAW & MOTTLEDPAW ; MENTORED BY PALEFIRE
    A large fluffy red tabby kitten with a white chest, stomach, tail, muzzle and stripe running along her back. Her eyes are a deep, forest, green and in her pelt one can usually find flowers woven
    easy in battle + no formal training
 
When Roaringsun had asked for volunteers to join his patrol, she had jumped on the opportunity...perhaps a little too quickly. The tortoiseshell had strayed near the back of the patrol, her ears burning with embarrassment as she kept replaying the scenario over and over again in her head, until she noticed (a little too late) that the others had slowed down in pace. She accidentally bumped into a clanmate, and she lowered her ears in more embarrassment as she murmured an apology.

It wasn't until then that an all too familiar smell caught her attention. All embarrassment moments temporarily pushed aside, her gaze grew dark with worry. It wasn't all that long ago that Roaringsun had saved her from being a fox's dinner. Was this the same fox? The warrior cast a glance at the new lead warrior, wondering if he was thinking the same thing. She wanted to turn back, maybe access the situation a little more, but the tom pushed forward. At least this time there are more cats to help fight...

But what they found was not a giant, hungry fox...no, it was a body of one, with whimpering babies nearby. She swallowed nervously, looking to the others on the patrol. Wildheart hadn't exactly ran her through this scenario during their training sessions...she wasn't sure what to do. "We should stay back..what if another one comes looking f-for them..?"
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RAVENBLAZE.BIOGRAPHY ㅤ/ ㅤTOYHOUSE
afab (she / her)ㅤ / heterosexual, single, crushing on roaringsun
14 moons old ㅤ/ ㅤages realistically, every 1st of the month
warrior of thunderclan
flycatcher x flamestar ㅤ/ㅤ sister to: falconheart, stormfeather, lilykit, butterflykit, bugchaser, squirrelsong, sunbird, sparrowpaw
ㅤpenned by Icey ! ㅤ/ ㅤmessage Icey ! on discord for plots!
mentored by wildheart
will start fights, will end fights, won't kill

longhaired tortoiseshell with green eyes, and low white
 

TW: general warning for cruel thoughts regarding the fox kits

-ˋˏ ༻☾༺ ˎˊ-​

Thrashpaw lingers by his mentors side, not wanting to be left behind as she ventured after Roaringsun. He doesn't make small talk, keeping her head down and walking. It's the scent of fox that causes him to recoil, ear flicking as his muzzle contorts into a disgusted sneer. It's too soon after finding out that Howlpaw had brought fox fur back, the memory seered into her mind. Bringing forth memories of warmth within a bitter old fox's burrow. If Antlerbreeze looks at them they don't acknowledge, the hair on the back of his neck raises, tail too is raised cautiously as they press forward. The yipping of foxes does nothing to ease his nerves, at this point rubbing together to the point where the friction becomes painful. The nerve exposed, anxiety is raw and vicious with its grip.

A dead fox, laid on the ground as if an offering, maybe it was. Or a waste of meat. The kits lay close, within their burrow, Thrashpaw hadn't noticed the fact his body shakes until he tries to take another step forward, almost tripping over himself, limbs feel too lose while the body itself is distant. Their eyes sting, they hadn't really noticed and she chooses to not acknowledge it. They're within a burrow, of course they, with a dead mother and thunderclanners crowding at a distance.

No one knows what to do, Thrashpaw herself seems to be at a loss as all he can do is stare. Sure that the burrow would catch alight and smolder in embers with the heat of it. It's too easy to see himself and it's littermates, too easy to remember just how suffocating that burrow could feel. They're foxes though, not cats, yet kits all the same. "We should kill them" he remarks in a monotone drawl, the clearest she thinks she has ever spoken. He once again chooses to not look at his mentor, or at Ravenblaze, Meadowfur or Roaringsun. He's just an apprentice, similar to Berrypaw, his words have no standing realistically but she wishes to not see the expressions on their faces.

"It would... be a mercy" a far kinder fate then they were spared, some days maybe it's a fate he wishes he had. "If that's... their mother then.... they could die regardless" his maw wobbles as he speaks, it's a kinder fate, surely it is. It does nothing to soothe the exposed and raw nerves but he hopes that maybe, one day it might.

OOC: Mentor tag @antlerbreeze


HUNGER WAS IN ME ALL MY LIFE

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THRASPHAWBIOGRAPHY
ㅤNon-binary (any pronouns)ㅤ/ㅤbisexual, padding after Tigerpaw
ㅤ10 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 5th of the month
ㅤApprentice of ThunderClan for 4 moons
Baying Hound x Dukeㅤ/ㅤLittermates with Howlpaw and Yippingpaw
ㅤmentoring n/aㅤ/ㅤmentored by Antlerbreeze
ㅤpenned by Juiceㅤ/ㅤmessage Ouijeejuice on discord for plots!

A walking burr of a child, pricklier than a thorn and walking in a measured crouch. Thrashpaw's smokey black pelt makes him blend into the shadows of the camp with ease, though being half maine coon makes her stand out in height.