- Feb 16, 2024
- 62
- 9
- 8
Greenleaf had arrived swiftly, and with it had come the promise of prosperity and profusion - especially in matters of food. Privetpaw found himself silently stalking along the edges of the sagebrushes, like a sullen ghost gliding along the ground, specter dragging itself upon where it could not rest. Since the day he had been gifted his 'paw name, he had trained himself to fly upon the flat floors without making a sound. He slipped up, here and there, but a devotee to self-perfection never allowed himself to make himself of mistakes. Fern-green gaze surveyed for any little movement within the shadows, white-tipped paws remaining feather-footed and fleet, never daring to lurch too far into the light. His sable pelt was a boon, he mused, for lurking through the gloom. Whiskers twitched, eyes blinked, mere moments extending endlessly into forevers. After many minutes of wandering, a slight crackle sounded in triangular ears, as though a mere whistle never to be mourned nor remembered. But the boy had heard it, and his head quickly swiveled in the direction that it came from. The scent trail, straight as a sundried reed, did no favors for his prey.
Assuming a proper hunter's crouch, he stood still as he saw a distant mote of speckled browns, almost wormlike in its dour and plain appearance. It seemed not to notice him, which was a grave error on its part. The Duskclan apprentice made sure to position himself just upwind of his prey, so flickering tongue could not sense him upon its tracks. Privetpaw lunged forwards in the blink of an eye, catching the body of the small and slippery lizard, though it squirmed and writhed in protest of its life. With the snap of brittle bones, unassuming and dull as it was, the reptile lie dead within his maw. Limp body still radiated heat, though it was never as warm as the body of a mouse or a bird. The wine-dark apprentice held it in his mouth for moments more, quietly musing if this would be enough to feed his mother tonight - even in matters of food, Duskclan found themselves at the mercy of hunger's knell.
Assuming a proper hunter's crouch, he stood still as he saw a distant mote of speckled browns, almost wormlike in its dour and plain appearance. It seemed not to notice him, which was a grave error on its part. The Duskclan apprentice made sure to position himself just upwind of his prey, so flickering tongue could not sense him upon its tracks. Privetpaw lunged forwards in the blink of an eye, catching the body of the small and slippery lizard, though it squirmed and writhed in protest of its life. With the snap of brittle bones, unassuming and dull as it was, the reptile lie dead within his maw. Limp body still radiated heat, though it was never as warm as the body of a mouse or a bird. The wine-dark apprentice held it in his mouth for moments more, quietly musing if this would be enough to feed his mother tonight - even in matters of food, Duskclan found themselves at the mercy of hunger's knell.
