CALL ME A SAINT ♡ Prompt/Failed climb

[Petalnose]

Birds were never something Petalnose would willingly hunt for or feed upon. The taste was stale to her and the feathers were hard to pick past. She didn't see them worth the time and energy to feed upon. Although, she knew leafbare made everyone desperate. This wasn't for her as well. The codes addition to rules gave her an excuse to hunt upon another subject. At least, the challenge was tempting to her. Petalnose had taken on goose for the thrill before, but they were heavy and took slow flight. The birds preyed upon were quick to take flight within a blink. Silence. Speed. The lead warrior had nearly perfected the skills. They were her strengths.

A starling landed to lap up the icy waters that bordered their territory, perching upon a small river rock. Its feathers were puffed, protection from the cold elements in attempts to stay warm. Petalnose stalked not far behind, light as the snow that slowly swallowed her paws each careful step. Unheard but she was quick. That was until she got too focused.

A misstep was taken upon the rocks and a claw instictively unsheathed to prevent a slip. One scratch against the stone had made the starling turn to sight the danger and dart to a willow tree nearby. The challenge was still not wavered despite her vocal grunt of impatience. The feline spun around and disappeared into the reeds once more, approaching the willow tree carefully. Once she had attempted this. Once more she would try again. She had gotten halfway last time.

Petalnose prepared for a jump within the reeds, claws unsheathing in preparation to climb as she eyed the dark bird in the midst of the branches. A wiggle of her hind legs and alignment of her tail before she pounced.

She had caught herself on the trunk, claws sinking into the bark. One paw after another. Halfway.

But then strength was lost in weakening muscles of the season, and she fell upon her paws, being left staring at the starling above with a twitching tail of irritation. Better luck next time. Or never again. Her gaze adverted to another prey's nearby scent, that challenge was given up and defeat had been swallowed so easily this time.

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[EELPAW]

"Maybe it'll come back?" She offers, hoping that the warrior's irritation from the failed hunt wouldn't reflect on her response to Eelpaw's innocent attempt at reassurance. Eelpaw wouldn't have been able to catch the starling either truthfully. With limited hunting training, she was grateful for the chance to practice more. The attitude of the warriors was slowly rubbing off on Eelpaw, and while she too would prefer to eat a fish over anything else, she didn't enjoy the feeling of going hungry either.

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

It's not surprising necessarily... for every feathered feed she brings home, most of her clan-mates will miss three more. It is not their nature, their specialty, isn't prioritized in training despite the deputy's best efforts to foster excitement and encourage broader hunting skills. Fishing will always outpace her stubborn insistences and with so much river to fish in, why wouldn't it? Except in the winter... when the fish slither so low into the deep recesses that they cannot be coaxed within arm's reach.

It is a pair of scrutinizing eyes that watch hawk-like for the short-comings of her clan-mate and despite Petalnose's reputation to be no-nonsense, to be a stalwart worker that doesn't flinch from challenge, today she falters. And it isn't without reason.

Her eyes narrow, swearing she caught the exact moment where muscle clenched in silent defiance and demanded for rest- her rigidity complained of her lacking energy and as the starling flew away, Lichentail came to her own conclusion on what had really lost them that bird.

Eelpaw is a kind feline to have suggested that the hope wasn't entirely lost... but birds do not often make the same mistakes twice and that little avian could've fed one of the rosetted girl's den-mates tonight. "Have you learned how to climb at all, Eelpaw," she asks, quick to take the focus off of a lead warrior whose own body was fighting her.

"It's not really something much of RiverClan does but.. it's helpful in the cold when the river is fickle."

-- apprentice tag @brookpaw

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WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

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[DAWNSTORM]

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He watched her stumble and fall, helm twisting awkwardly from where he stood, observing with no words of distraction or comfort. It was rare to see his bulky frame in the trees, even when he lived in the alpines, mountains towering over them and trees lining the wide expense of nature, untouched. His heart gave a painful twinge for it had been home for many, but it never had been for him.

Shaking his helm subconsciously, Dawnstorm peered around Lichentail, bi-colored hues dull, staring at Eelpaw’s reassurance. His brows lowered, creasing against mismatched fur. No. He thought with validity, staring at the fear-ridden stroke of speckled wings. He remembered how fickle they were when startled, springing forward into the open, wings unfurling in haste, stirring feathers and miscellaneous things with their explosive nature. “Explosive.” He supplied unhelpfully toward Eelpaw, tail curling awkwardly against the ground. “Difficult.” He’d add after a slow, painful squeeze of his heart against the ivory hue of bone trapping it. ​

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thought speech​