no angst cold are the days - (o; intro) - hunting patrol

[valerianstag]

THE STAG, LORD OF THE NORTH​

As the sun rose, life was alive in ShadowClan once again. Valerianstag had felt cold before, but nothing like this. The winds pierced through his thick, well-kept fur. Ice formed around his muzzle and nose, whiskers drooping from the fine layer of ice that now surrounded them. The heavy-set tom shivered for a moment, shaking a small amount of that ice from his form.

He pushed himself to his paws, stretching his body out. Grunting as the satisfying pull and push of his muscles came to an end, he blundered forward to greet the day. The sun bright, the skies white, and frost in a thick layer on the camp clearing. “Leaf-bare. The worst season of them all.” Valerianstag, regally and proudly, continued forward and made it to the fresh-kill pile. It seemed smaller than it had in many moons. Had StarClan forsaken them? Had they left them to rot? He scowled, his jowls restricting and his brows furrowed. “Perhaps another patrol won’t hurt.”

It seemed for a while he was the only one up, but he hoped others would join him. “Anyone else up
for a hunting patrol?” The tom called loudly, seeming to have fire in his tone. A warmth that pulled others in. “I’ve seen more freshkill in a kittypet’s home than on this pile.” Valerianstag threw his head back in laughter at his own joke. “C’mon.” His final plea for someone to join died on his lips like his mirth had.​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[smogstar]

If a piece of prey had been dropped on the fresh-kill pile each time some chucklehead made a comment on the unavoidable weather, ShadowClan wouldn't be teeming with empty tummies. Worse yet is the act of audaciously chewing over the sorry state of the clan's food supply. Yes, Valerianstag, it is quite cold and everybody is on the verge of undernourishment. It's impressive how well-informed the woolly tom is on the obvious. Still, he maintains a fair point - standing idly and watching the provisions wane isn't going to put any more food in people's mouths.

Shuffling over on begrudging pawsteps, holding a vexed expression on his features, Smogmaw submits to the other warrior's summons. "Might as well," he huffs, "on the condition that you eat your own dirt, if you come back empty-pawed." ​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

True the freshkill pile is looking smaller and smaller as days pass by. It troubling and she knows that they need every paw try and bring something back. Just like with that roadkill she hopes they can get that lucky again. Sighing she stretches out her tall form, curling her tail as she shivers. Her eyes lift slightly to look at Valerianstag as he speaks up about another hunting patrol. "Well. You aren't wrong, kittypets tend to eat better. I bet Skyclan is having no trouble." Her words are bitter and she does still blame them. Her claws press against the ground and she is about to accept when Smogmaw comes forth. Her eyes flick to him and she gets more time to think.

Her face screws up for a moment and she hasn't been on a hunting patrol in a while. Not since working with herbs and trying to train Starlingpaw at the same time. So she just nods knowing she will most likely separate from the patrol anyway. "I'll come along as well, stretch my legs and maybe I'll find something."​

 

[spectermask]

Its true that the weather is getting harsh, that prey is getting much harder to find. It's leaf-bare, winter, whatever the hell you call it with the stupid flurries and bitter wind but if someone states the obvious one more time he is going to lose his mind. He was about ready to head out with Eeriepaw, his own little ankle-biter assigned to him at the last meeting, and once they spare a glance at the lanky tom-kit he sighs before padding over. They twitch their tail in an order to follow.

"We're coming." voice flat, they survey the ragtag team that Valerian has assembled. Bonejaw says something about kittypets that Specter cannot bother to listen to, never really liked those cushy folks, and his gaze fixes on Smogmaw in silent acceptance. Course he wouldn't actually do his losing terms cause he's just that type of guy, but what's a little friendly competition? Except its the opposite of friendly because Specter couldn't give any less care to those on this patrol. He huffs lightly.

@EERIEPAW ​

"speech"​

 

[. Heathershade .]

The past moon, Heatherpaw had been trying to make progress on her other skills, though she had only really been able to excel at tracking, her stealth had also improved quite a bit.
Still, she had been itching to go on a hunt, she was a creature of habit after all, and the familiar comfort of her talent was something she had been craving- so when the opportunity arose, the chimera was quick to chime in with a- "Oh! I’ll come!"
She made her way over to the small but growing group, stopping beside Smogmaw- and trying not to scrunch her nose towards his distasteful dare.
Instead, the apprentice cast her gaze towards the rather sad looking fresh-kill pile. Whilst she had never seen the inside of a house cats home, she didn’t doubt the warriors joke.
"I’m sure we’ll catch something" she hums, optimistic.
"Speech."​

[ COCOA BUTTER KISSES ]​

 

[Mapleshine]

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An ear would flick as the voice of Valerianstag echoed through the camp. Turning her head to see the growing group, Mapleshine would stretch before bounding over and offering her clanmates a warm smile as she meowed, "I'll come too if you don't think it's too much! Heatherpaw and I can show you how real hunting is done. Right?"

She would wink good-naturedly at the apprentice before turning to the others. Prey had been so hard to come by lately, maybe having more significant patrols would make a little difference. ​

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[GECKOSCREECH]

✦ HOLD YOURSELF BENEATH THE BRINE ✦​

---

geckoscreech is beginning to lose count on just how many hunting patrols are being put together these days, half of everyone's schedules have just been trying to scrounge the frostbitten swamps for something to bring back. a muted sigh is pulled from chilled lungs as the rosetted dam lifts herself from her resting position to saunter over to the rest of the group, they'll need all the paws they can get if they want a chance of finding morsels.

"i'll tag along as well."
​

 

[EERIENIGHT]

Dark eyes watch from Eeriepaw's usual spot in the shadows - a spot of darkness that seems rare to come by in the sudden brightness of leaf-bare. At least, that's what the warriors seem to take this sudden chill as. It's all just another season, they claim - the worst, with better to come.

Eeriepaw doesn't think it's just a season, but rather that the world is dying. Must be, if the trees too have become skeletons, leaves disappearing and leaving nothing but the bones that are their twigs and branches. Maybe someone could read their bones, give them a fortune.

Paws step into his view, pull him from his thoughts. The spindly tom blinks, looking up at his mentor. A tail twitches, Spectermask's gesture to follow.

"We're coming," his mentor says, and Eeriepaw finds himself confused. Going where? His thoughts must have left him missing the conversation of the group Spectermask leads him towards. Bat ears twitch as Heatherpaw and Mapleshine and - Oh.

Hunting. They were going hunting. That didn't sound fun. Sounded just like silly tasks to keep him from watching the camp, keep him busier than he needed to be.

But the tom stays quiet, lacks complaints as he stands beside his mentor and stares at the group before him.
​

 

[valerianstag]

THE STAG, LORD OF THE NORTH​

It seemed almost out of nowhere several cats had joined him in the crusade to find more prey. He raised his eyebrow towards Smogjaw first. “If we don’t, ya gotta eat dirt before you eat the prey we catch.” His eyes narrowed, yet it wasn’t malicious or unkind. Rather it was to size up the warrior, holding him to his word. He then looks to Bonejaw. “Probably have their kittypet warriors bringing back those mouse pellets that they call food.” He had heard of the stories of kittypets and their food. It made Valerianstag sick to even think about eating that garbage, but it keep kittypets fat all winter long. His mind idly moved towards the thought of it they couldn’t find any prey. What would they do?

The warrior then looked to the rest of the group. “All of ya. Thanks for joining. I’m confident all of us will catch something!” His voice was proud and full of emotion. His eyes landed on Mapleshine for a moment and then moved onto the next before turning towards the camp entrance. “C’mon you lot.” The well-rounded tom bounded forward, his tail high in the air with happiness and pride. He led the way, turning his head back occasionally to check on his clanmates as they headed towards a hunting ground.​

✦ ★ ✦​