couldn't get away / hunting

[HAWKSPINE]

He's leading a hunting patrol! It's not the first time, though it's a privilege offered rarely due to his age. Hawkspine had led his pawful of hunters close to Tallpine, but had decided to keep his nose to the ground.

This part of SkyClan territory is safe, historically. So safe it is, in fact, that Hawkspine doesn't even register that a predator might be facing the same harsh conditions as them. He's too busy failing to catch even a whiff of mouse underneath the biting frost, and he grows increasingly frustrated as time goes on.

Thar frustration makes him a touch late when reconvening with the other SkyClanners, glancing up to see sunhigh and abandoning his fruitless search. The torbie is surprised to see more familiar muzzles than he'd parted with. Had someone met another patrol on the way?

"I found nothing!" He complains when he reaches hearing range, ears pressed flat to his head and a loud huff exiting his maw. "Is all the prey on the other side of the territory or what?"

//
patrol encounter roll: 18 (no predator)
hawk's prey roll: 3 (no prey for him either lol)
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[Cherryblossom]

For Cherryblossom, hunting is just an exercise in composure. Failure after failure though she suffers, her head remains resolutely high when not seeking scent trails in the needle litter. This patrol, it seems she's not even granted the opportunity to fail. She feels as though she's crossed a quarter of the territory already, all without a single whiff of prey-scent: none on the frost-glazed floor and none in the bushy pines. The warrior could only hope @ricepaw doesn't succumb to the same fate as her mentor.

The voice in the distance is no birdsong, but it's unexpected enough to lift a note of hope in her heart, which quickly falls at the sight of a cat-sized silhouette tromping towards them. Her ears flatten in turn, a muted snap beading on the tip of her tongue: "Shut up, or you'll scare all the prey there." Cherryblossom's luxurious tail twitches with renewed irritation. Rationally, it couldn't be Hawkspine's fault; he hadn't been speaking that loudly. Still, she needed some reason to explain away her empty jaws.

ooc: rolled a 2!​

 

[spicepurr]

Spicepurr does the same as Cherryblossom and tries to find any means to explain why she hadn't scented anything yet. It couldn't be the her failing skill from not being exercised, it couldn't be her constant fatigue from her travels in the twolegplace. It was something else, something outside of her completely. It's not her fault. Saying as much is a lie in itself, one she knows well, but its something she believes despite knowing the truth.

"We might have better luck moving along," she murmurs as she returns to the group, keeping her gaze away from Hawkspine. Spicepurr's short tail graces the ground before lifting, the cold sending a shiver up her spine and shaking her shoulders. "Maybe closer to the twolegplace; if we're lucky, the birds will be flying in for more cover." The pine trees don't lose their nettles as often as other trees do, after all.

Her gaze flits over Cherryblossom, and though she tenses with the other's snipe towards Hawkspine, she doesn't say much in his defense. The molly is her siblings partner, after all; Spicepurr doesn't want to instigate more trouble between herself and Edenberry by fighting with their girlfriend.

[ rolled a 3 xoxo gossip girl ]
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[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

/ rolled a 13 and 2

The large smokey warrior ain't had much luck findin' prey since joinin' the patrol of empty-handed warriors, mangled ear swivelin' at Hawkspine's call of complaint backed up by Cherryblossom's muted snap to be quiet. Duskpool let out a rumbled snort, wooly plumage flickerin' in rattlin' disappointment.

He moved stealthily from the groupin' cats in pursuit of his own failed hunt when the taste of mouse brushed past tingling tastebuds, mangled ears perkin' in preparation, muscles coilin' beneath scarred flesh. Guess it ain't all that much of a failure, eh? He thought to no one, wooly plumage flickerin' as he settled into a low crouch, perspective of where he placed large paws, brittle bones groanin' in mild protest when he sprung forward, catchin' the mouse by surprise, teeth sinkin' into soft flesh, endin' it as quickly as it started.

Duskpool returned, emergin' from the partin' shadows carryin' a limp mouse between scarred lips.

@Foxglovepaw.
​

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thought speech​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Frost, frost, more frost ... Doeblaze doesn't think she's had this unsuccessful of a hunt since she was a fresh warrior. Normally she can depend on herself to at least pick up a whiff of bluebird or squirrel, even if she fumbles the actual catch, but today ... nothing. Creeping carefully along branches slick with bitter frost, claws dug precariously into the bark, she's swathed in the scents of nothing but pine needles and nose-stingingly cold air. It's a scent that would be refreshingly clean and clear if it wasn't obscuring traces of anything but itself. Muzzle seamed into a frown, she pulls herself fruitlessly through the branches until the sound of voices wafts up and she (reluctantly) accepts her failure.

" No luck here either, " she remarks with a sigh and a crunch as she springs from the trunk and lands on the frosty ground below. Cherrryblossom's tail swishes, her bright voice blunt with annoyance as she snaps at Hawkspine. With a reluctant awareness of her rank, Doeblaze aims a disapproving glance sideways at the young warrior but says nothing for the moment. Her own tail coils against her chilly haunches, and she nods in agreement with Spicepurr, trying to infuse some optimism into their group. " Hopefully. The frost must have all the prey holing up early. "

" This cold snap had better break soon, " she sighs out, though it's already gone on too long ... long enough that it's ruffling her own feathers. Surely leaf-bare can't be here quite this early? Doeblaze aims an admiring green gaze at Duskpool's mouse and tries not to let any envy seep in ... she'd have better luck tomorrow, surely.

OOC : Rolled an 8; 0 points, found nothing.

✦

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[Owlheart]

It seems to be a bad day for hunting, maybe the prey of the forest had all hidden away for the early leaf bare. Did the frost scare them off too? Owlheart isn't sure, all she knows is that it is unreasonably difficult for her to find something today. She had hope that there would be obvious tracks within the slightly white tinted ground, there is at least some solace that the rest of the patrol seems to be struggling. It feels less like incompetence on her behalf rather than a genuine shortage in the pines, that thought was comforting and eased irritation that built up within her.

It seemed that wasn't the case for Cherryblossom, there was sympathy for Hawkspine when he invoked her sister's wrath just by speaking, even if it was slightly frustrating to hear the complaining. She can't be truly upset though, it sucks to not find anything. "I don't think there's really any prey here to scare away" she comments with a thoughtful hum, tactfully ignoring the fact that there must be some here to catch since Duskpool caught a mouse. It's a weak attempt to try and direct her calico sister's attention away from the bubbling frustration she seems to be feeling.

Spicepurrs suggestion earns another hum and a small nod. It made sense, would it be warmer in Twolegplace too? All the daylight warriors seem to come to camp in the morning pretty warm, this must mean that it's a drawing beacon for the scattered prey. ​

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OPEN UP YOUR HEART ☼ LIKE THE GATES OF HELL ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ooc. Rolled a 5!

• 

• 
  OWLHEART
  She / her ||Warrior of SkyClan || 18 moons
  ❥ An orange tabby with low white and an owls feather tucked in her tail.
  ❥ Mates with Oddgleam and Crowsight | Mother to Pearlkit, Cuckookit, Morningkit, Brightkit and Ravenkit.
  ❥ Mentoring Hollypaw
  ❥ "Speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}

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[SILVERSMOKE]

A clan that frequently snacked on birds and squirrels would struggle when the latter went into hiding and the former had the sense to fly to warmer pastures. It was a flaw of his home that he hadn't considered in some time (what with last Leafbare being more home to tragedy of a different kind). His bristled fur and sour expression marked his own failures - it was not that he had failed to catch his quarry, it was that he hadn't even been able to find the scent of one. He returned to the group like a rattled bear, pent-up worry and agitation causing his tail to lash and thoughts to race. And, beneath it all, guilt. Who knew how many mouths he was now responsible for feeding, whether Johnnyflame's Twolegs would provide enough food for him.

He eyed Duskpool's mouse and let out an indignant huff, blinking fervently at the condensation that clouded his face. 'This feels too soon...' Way too soon, they were way too unprepared and the empty bellies their clan would have tonight evidenced it grimly. "Spicepurr's right." They couldn't sit around complaining, no matter how much Silversmoke wanted to do the same, apologies would not feed the mouths that needed it most. "If prey isn't lurking here, we need to be looking elsewhere. Somewhere warmer seems like a good start." He looked expectantly to Hawkspine.

// rolled a 1 </3 good job idiot
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[COPIA]

Isn't leaf-bare a little bit early? The black smoke tom thinks to himself as he follows the patrol, his breath visible as the tom lets out a huff. Copia knows the hardships of living in the wild, that including the harsh season of leaf-bare. The former rogue was never pampered like some kittypet— they struggled for warmth and food too out in the twoleg streets. But, he doesn't remember it ever being this early. He certainly doesn't like how the frost hasn't melted away yet, and with another exhale, he starts to wonder if leaf-bare is here to stay.

His ears remain pricked, and he tries to listen for any signs of nearby prey— and tries to ignore the voices of his clanmates bickering. Some suggest they move areas, that there isn't prey to scare away, but Copia shoves their voices away with a shake of his head. Stop talking already! Copia holds himself back from letting the thought become words, but he lashes his tail with some annoyance.

His thoughts trail off as his ears swivel, at the sound of rustling of fallen leaves nearby. His gaze quietly whips into the direction of the noise, his mismatched eyes widening. Look at that, a duck! The former rogue quickly thinks, and he crouches low into a hunting stance. They're all too distracted to notice it! By it's coloration, he can tell that it's a male— female ducks are not nearly as vivid in color. His tail twitches, and the black smoke tom silently moves forward, mismatched eyes locked onto it's target. Someone more than Duskpool should come back to camp with prey. He refuses to return empty-handed!

Unsheathing his claws, Copia uses his hind legs to pounce at his prey. He collides into the bird, claws sinking into it's flesh, and he is quick to aim for it's green neck with his fangs. He can't let it have the chance to fly off! He bites down hard, and his tail swishes back and forth as the duck eventually goes limp in his jaws. "I caught a duck, heh." Copia says to the patrol with the duck still in his jaws, wondering if he was the only one to spot the rare find.​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 ――― 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

• rolled two 16 for prey & prey size, so 3 points!
• 
  
  

  ---

  artwork by llumisky (via TH) for the artwork<3
• Copia

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  warrior
  37 moons
  awkward
  clumsy
  experience: shadowing
  backstory: [HYPERLINK]
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to sixbane for the mini <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green & white
  pelt: black smoke with low white
  fur length: long
  parents: sorella and nihil (rogue npcs)
  

  ---

  ​

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[SLATESNARL]

With leafbare arriving far sooner than expected, Slatesnarl knew that it was imperative that SkyClan prepares for the worst. He has lived through two winters in the clans thus far and, from experience, knew that such harsh conditions brought starvation and depletion of resources. In the worst of times, the clans turned on one another and stole what they needed to survive. Slatesnarl wouldn't be surprised if ThunderClan, those lowly thieves, resorted to taking more prey from their territory. Maybe they'd even try stealing their herbs if they were desperate enough.

Many cats were having trouble locating prey underneath the fresh layer of frost. Whether it was just a lucky break or sheer determination that motivated Slatesnarl today, he had managed to track down a lone crow that was rooting through the frost for something to eat. It was a miracle that it hadn't spotted him at all, seeing as his pelt color very much contrasted with the pale coverage of the ground. Then again, birds were stupid, after all.

His hip, thankfully, gave him little issue as he sprung from behind a pine and made a quick purchase with his claws into the obsidian-feathered avian. Larger birds, albeit more difficult to encounter, were always easier for Slatesnarl to catch because of their slower movement. The creature squawked and writhed under Slatesnarl's grip but was soon silenced by a swift bite, amber eyes aglow with adrenaline and satisfaction. After losing more spars as of late and finding his hunting skills lacking, it felt good to secure such a hefty kill. SkyClan would eat well because he did his part.

Grabbing the limp crow into his jaws, the Maine Coon exhaled and padded in the direction of camp. He did not want to leave this precious catch buried for a predator to find.

𝟒𝟐𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐉𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ✹ . + ˚ · 𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐆𝐔𝐍

• roll: 19
  prey size: 15 ( large )
  pts: 3

• 

• 

  — slatesnarl / 44 moons / he/him
  — skyclan warrior & former lead warrior
  — mate to orangestar / father to lambkit & ramkit
  — lh solid black maine coon w/ rusting, amber eyes. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face.
  — click for tags

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[KITESTORM]

✦​

Hunting is Kitestorm's weakest skill, despite their endeavors to improve. Now the frost has come and they'd like nothing more than to help fatten the fresh-kill pile. If only they could catch a whiff of something, anything. Despite scaling a tree with the hopes of just catching sight of a bird they may pursue, Kitestorm calls it quits- there's no need to waste energy. She descends from a pine and gives the chilly air another defeated sniff. The tabby contributes a certain level of pride to her olfactory system- they were able to track others with ease within the Twolegplace- and they're disappointed to loop back towards the other hunters empty-jawed.

Any tenseness caused by their disappointment eases as they sidle up to Copia and greets him with a ghostly smile. "That's... excellent," Kitestorm praises, leaning into his shoulder tentatively before peering around to see if anyone else's hunts proved fruitful. She nods briskly to Silversmoke and voices their agreement with him uncertainly, "I'm sure... there's somewhere better to hunt..." They try their best to sound partially optimistic, but they fall short of it, partially due to their monotonous voice and that they truly can't muster the effort to be encouraging. Not when they can't even find a hint of a prey's scent.

》rolled a 10

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

•  
• 
  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

• 

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[sweetnose]

"I got something!" Sweetnose purrs through a mouthful of vole fur as they return from the direction of ThunderClan, a spritely pep in their step. While their tone can be interpreted as smug, their gaze is mildly pitying as it sweeps the patrols (plural: there are definitely cats here that she hadn't left camp alongside). They pause next to Kitestorm, a teasing glance sent in the direction of the older feline, but make no comment on her friend's lack of catch.

Hunting must be hard if the larger half of their cats had come back empty-pawed so far. Thank StarClan for Duskpool, Copia and Slatesnarl! It looked like the three toms had experienced some luck with their catches, too.

"Least the kits will have something tonight."

tracking: 13 (YES. FINALLY)
prey size: 5 (1 point)​

 

[marspaw]

Marspaw trudges alongside the others, whiskers twitching as he keeps his eyes fixed on the frosty ground. It seems like everyone in the patrol has come back empty-pawed, except for Duskpool with his small mouse and Copia's duck. Even with those catches, it doesn't feel like enough to feed SkyClan, and Marspaw's frustration bubbles inside him. They need more than this—something big. Determined not to return empty-pawed, Marspaw separates from the group to try his luck a little further off. He scans the snow-laden pines, watching for movement. Just when he's about to give up, he hears it—a rustling sound, the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against bark. His ears perk, and he drops low, creeping forward. As he gets closer, he spots a plump pheasant picking through a patch of thawed ground, its glossy feathers shimmering in the cold sunlight. A grin tugs at his lips. This was it. This would be the perfect catch to help fill their pile back at camp.

Marspaw moves carefully, every step quiet as he inches closer, adrenaline building in his muscles. The bird's head dips, pecking at the ground, giving him the perfect chance. He braces himself, then springs forward with a powerful leap, landing right on top of the bird before it has a chance to escape. The pheasant squawks, flapping its wings in a desperate attempt to get away, but Marspaw's claws are sharp, and he clamps down on its back, holding it steady as he delivers a swift bite to its neck. The bird goes limp in his jaws, and a triumphant feeling surges through him. He turns back to the patrol, the massive pheasant dangling from his mouth as he strides over, chest puffed out. "Look what I found!" he mumbles through the feathers, his eyes gleaming with pride. He feels a surge of satisfaction at his success. This bird is big enough to feed multiple cats, a much-needed addition to their dwindling prey stock.

[ rolled a 12 then an 18 :3 ]​

 

[Chickbloom]

A huff of frustration left Chickbloom as each cat went off to find their own prey, the fog leaving his mouth quickly dissipating as folded ears pushed through. The former kittypet was a good hunter, the activity one of the only things that relaxed the ball of nerves, but he could tell right away this was going to be hard.

Soft muscles may have grown firm thanks to Silversmoke's guidance and plenty of practice, but this was still his first leafbare since becoming a full wild cat. Chickbloom knew it'd be difficult, but as his nose earned picked up on nothing but stinging cold, the cat had to concede that he'd underestimated the season.

The only thing that kept the coward from kicking himself even harder were the occasional calls of his clanmates through the trees; proof that they wouldn't starve at the very least. Still, he didn't want to be as useless as he was when he joined last cycle. Perhaps Silversmoke would be up to giving more lessons? They were closer in skills now, but the Scottish Fold still put the other on a pedestal.

The idea simmered in an anxious mind as invisible brows furrowed. Chickbloom gave it more thought as he pressed on to another part of the territory, hoping to get some scraps (even if he knew it wouldn't happen)

//Rolled a 6​