COMING BACK AROUND [event hunting]

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ A storm rages over the moorland, wind blistering against exposed faces, paws, tails, anything without a thick coating of fur. Cold rain batters those who have returned from their morning patrols, making for a miserable experience—the leader decides to avoid it altogether, taking the tunnels as she normally does, with both apprentices in tow. The younger felines are left to their own devices for the most part, especially when the calico catches scent of a rabbit. Such prey has fled to the tunnels during this weather, exhibiting the very reason that tunnelers exist in the first place.

The scent trail leads her to one of the tunnel's exits, blue-tinged daylight a shining beacon through the darkness. The light is eclipsed for a moment by the heavy form of a rabbit, and it is then that Scorchstar chooses to strike. Powerful legs send her lurching forth, driving the rabbit from the tunnel. It sets off at an even faster pace as it reaches the open air, but the calico is faster. She is soaked through near-immediately with rain, fur pressed slick and cold against her slight figure, but within only a moment she leaps for the rabbit. Landing squarely upon its back, claws and teeth alike sink into its fur and rip. It kicks out once, twice, and then falls still beneath Scorchstar's teeth.

For a moment, the leader merely stands there in the drizzling rain, hunched over the rabbit's stilled form. Her catch is not large, but it will feed at least one or two WindClanners today. She raises herself at last and returns to the tunnel's entrance, peering inside in search of her apprentices. If Brackenpaw or Bilberrypaw poke their heads from the tunnel, they will be met not with a question of their success but with an expectant stare. They are both old enough that they should be consistently catching prey—but with the wintry weather sinking in, how will their hunting skills fare?

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: rolled 20 (no encounter), 14 (catches prey), 10 (medium prey, 2 points)
  apprentice tags @Brackenpaw @BILBERRYPAW
• 
• SCORCHSTAR ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ she/they, leader of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[GHOSTSTRIKE]

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The tunnels were no place for a cat of Ghost's stature. Therefore, the towering tabby is left to brave the buffering winds raging across the moorlands, dark pelt soaking his scarred, muscular frame. But there is no rest for a warrior trying to feed a hungry clan, and no fear of sickness for a cat who would welcome death like an old friend. Besides, the cold and wet was nothing new to him. Before Sootstar and her lot had picked him up after the coyote problem a while back, this had been par the course for cats like him within The Coalition, forced to work under grueling conditions while others hid away safely in their dens.

At least here, the other Windclanners didn't seem to mind doing their share of the work.

While he couldn't fit in the tunnels comfortably (he basically had to hunker down inside of them the entire time, fighting off the cloying sense of claustrophobia) that didn't mean he couldn't use them to his advantage still. He anticipated that most of the prey would be hiding underground or trying to feed under overhangs, and he'd managed to find himself a plump mouse tucked up under a sheltering branches of a nearby bush.

When he emerged with his prize in tow, it was just in time to see Scorchstar bringing down a rabbit a few yards off. Good for her. he noted approvingly, tail flicking in greeting toward the shecat and her apprentices before turning to head back toward camp to add his catch to the pile and dry off a bit. He was just about done with this wind.

OOC- he can't participate in event rolls unfortunately, but I wanted to get him posted lol. Did personal rolls in my channel for his catch!

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moor runner - ex rogue - male - 29 months - single - a very tall, muscular tabby with dark gray fur and white markings. heavily scarred with dark amber eyes​

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[downyfur]

Downyfur can't keep the worry out of her chest, but they can keep it from her face. Gravepaw's death haunts at each squelching step, whispering the ruin of the cave-in that'd killed the apprentice in the soft squeaks of earthworms. It's not the idea of their own demise that knots in their stomach―rather, it isn't the source of its newest twist―but their charge's.

Hardly a moon has passed since their patrol lead entrusted @heatherpaw. to them. What wrath would Sootspot unleash upon them if they returned without her one day? And that's not to speak of the apprentice's own young being: so delicate yet malleable. They couldn't live with themself if anything happened to a child like that, especially one under their care. Was this was Cottonsprig felt, back when Sootstar ruled? They can't imagine willingly shouldering a burden like this.

Anxieties, heightened by the steady drum of rain above, fog their precious senses. Each turn is a wrong one; each step leads towards uncertain doom. The tunnel to their left may lead further downwards, towards where the danger of water pools, but the one to their right may lead towards unshored walls made sludgy in the rain. Surely Heatherpaw notices their hesitance. Sootspot had never been anything but confident, after all.

They stand empty-pawed and guilty when Scorchstar and Ghoststrike return from their hunts, each victorious. Their jaw remains wired shut, fearing the attention even a simple "good job!" would draw to their failures.

ooc: rolled a 3; earned 0 points!​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

ATOMS AND LOW SELF-ESTEEM,
IS THAT ALL THAT I'M GONNA BE ? ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 28 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

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Rain drenches his senses - the moor runner is certain he will return empty pawed, and yet he refuses to stop and return to camp. Anxiety is a familiar presence these days, not just for hom bit all of his clanmates – that creeping fear that all of their efforts wont be enough
And sure enough, prey is dwindling by the day, predator-scent thick as their own.

A tired sigh slips through parted jaws, only the scent of ozone and frost touching his senses - half-blind gaze squinting as he struggles to keep from losing sight of the path. With water-slicked fur, he looks a right mess - slipping closer to tunnels maw to take momentary shelter before his return. Eyes catch on Scorchstars frame, rabbit held proudly in her jaws, and though disappointment gnaws at him, he's still relieved. 'At least someone caught something today,'

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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W H A T -D O E S - M Y -L I F E -E V E N -M E A N ?

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// mobile ♡
12 - no prey

 

[SHAGGYDOG]

The storm rages on, rain driving in relentless sheets that sting against Shaggydog's pelt. The wind howls over the moorland, carrying the scent of damp earth and storm-soaked grass. Despite the misery of the weather, Shaggydog trudges on, its frame hunched against the wind. The tunnels are an option, sure, but crouching in confined spaces isn't something it's eager to repeat. Instead, it sticks to the open land, moving steadily, keeping its senses sharp despite the discomfort. It catches a flicker of movement—a flash of fur darting between tufts of wet heather. The wind carries the faintest trace of hare-scent, and its sharp nose picks it up instantly. Shaggydog's ears flatten against its skull as it lowers itself closer to the ground, muscles tense with anticipation. The wind works in its favor, masking its scent as it creeps forward, paws soundless even on the soaked ground.

The hare bolts. Maybe it sensed the threat, or maybe it was just bad luck, but Shaggydog is ready. It surges forward, long limbs devouring the ground with powerful strides. Rain clings to its fur, but it doesn't care; its focus is razor-sharp. The hare darts left, then right, but Shaggydog anticipates the move, springing to cut it off. With a final leap, it comes crashing down on the creature, claws digging into slick fur as it bites down hard. The hare struggles, legs kicking, but the fight is brief. Shaggydog straightens, rain dripping from its muzzle, the weight of the hare solid in its jaws. It doesn't linger to admire its catch; instead, it starts back towards the tunnel's entrance, shuffling to crouch in an open space just within, slightly out of the rain while it waits for the rest of the patrol to finish their hunting.

[ rolled a 19 to catch prey and an 18 for size :3 ]​

 

[heatherpaw.]

( ⊱✿⊰ ) a moon into her training, heatherpaw feels like she's finally gotten used to the life of an apprentice. still, she loathes the cold, loathes the mud on her paws and the snuffling of oncoming illness that seems to haunt the apprentices' den. a selfish part of the girl wishes she were still in the nursery with her father and siblings, relishing the warmth of the clan's most protected den. she has to banish that desire daily, clawing at it with the thought of how her father would react if he could sense her weakness.

padding through the tunnels after downyfur, heatherpaw scents the air, disappointed to find nothing prey-like. only the musky, damp scent of mud and frost that has permeated her senses for the past moon. ghoststrike seems to scent something and darts off, and above them, the moor-runners thunder past. scorchstar too chases after something, so it is with embarrassment that the apprentice trudges after downyfur. she's a failure today, and with her clan's leader heading the patrol, she feels it tenfold.

SAY WHAT YOU WANT ⊱✿⊰ BUT SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT

• // no roll due to late posting, but girlie hasn't found anything. "#b2a0bc"
• 
• HEATHERPAW ⊱✿⊰ SHE / HER, WINDCLAN TUNNELER. MENTORED BY DOWNYFUR. 6 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  
  a longhaired blue lynx point with blue eyes. her body is cloaked in pale snow-white fur, a storm of blue flooding her face, tail, and paws. stripes of darker blue accentuate her eyes nose, and band around her legs. shining eyes stare out from the angular shaped face, a deep, faded blue color.

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[NIGHTPAW]

The blizzard were merciless out there and Nightpaw had find another reason to why being a tunneler were more beneficial then running out there on the moors. At least underground there would be no violent wind or snow to blind him. Today's hunt though had lead them closer to one of thier exits as thier leader had find a trail that brought them outside. Nightpaw didn't follow though, leaving that hunt to Scorchstar alone as he instead tried to find his own trail to follow. Nightpaw had not yet caught his first alive prey so he was hoping to change that today. Anything for his father to praise and look down at them with pride once more. But hunting didn't turn out to be as easy as it was to find materials to the beddings, and so his hunting would turn out to be unsuccessful. It might be difficult to hunt in a blizzard, but hunting in the tunnels had thier own challenges.

// no points because of out of date for this phase, and also no prey found


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