fall towards burning ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ hunting patrol [event]

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　Another patrol to lead; it's becoming a more and more common occurance. Swansong still doesn't quite feel like a proper warrior, more a ghost drifting through ShadowClan's camp. An observer, seperate from the world - hardly fit for leading at all. She swallows the feeling back, shrouds herself in a veil of serenity. She can do this, as her father and sister should. She can stop being herself (she rarely feels like she is) for long enough to let the cool mask of authority guide the patrol.

They need it now, more than ever. Death hungers, creeps greedily into ShadowClan's home. She stands on the barrier, a suitable guide to navigate through its chilly domain. They must be strong to survive; she must be strong, to fulfill her destiny.

Pale ears perk, and the ghostly warrior leads her small party through the chilly pools of the marshlands. She pauses, tail held high in a signal to halt. "Otter scent..." Her mouth parts, body frozen statue-still. "Stale." A sign of relief. Swansong's tail flicks forward, gesturing for the rest of the patrol to begin their hunt. They are safe, for now. "Best hunt quickly... Before it returns..."

Their own eyes flicker across the sparse grass. Webbed paws move creep through the shallows, small ripples marking each movement. The stirring of the water alters a plump frog, and Swansong's focus sharpens. they won't be getting prey like this for much longer.

A swift movement, and they're snatching the creature between ivory teeth. A clean kill; they pride themself on that. Drips of water fall from the frog's limp body as they turn to check on the progress of their patrolmates.

‎‎BUT NO ONE❜S REALLY THERE ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ DOES THAT MEAN IT❜S DONE IN VAIN?

• ENCOUNTER ROLL: 16 (no encounter)
  PREY ROLL: 14 (success)
  PREY SIZE: 13 (medium)
  
  POINTS: 2
  
  @sneezeduck @jitterbug @BASILPAW get rolling, friends!
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG　☾　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, eighteen moons.
  ★ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with droopy blue eyes.
  ★ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ★ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[jitterbug]

Jitterbug watches Swansong drift through the marsh like a specter, all calm and composed. It feels a little surreal to see her commanding a patrol, and yet here they are, hunting under her lead. They're used to tagging along on these hunts, but leadership still seems strange on her, like a cloak just a little too big. There's a quiet respect in Jitterbug's gaze, but they'd never say that aloud—not their style, anyway. Instead, they shrug off the thought, refocusing on the task at hand. They would rather be moving than thinking too hard about the choices or insecurities of others. After all, everyone has their own doubts, even if they don't wear them openly.

As Swansong gestures for them to start, Jitterbug's ears prick up, a glint of determination flashing across their gaze. They pad forward, keeping their steps light and measured, scanning the waterlogged ground for any sign of prey. It's easy to lose focus in the cold marsh with fog and shadows playing tricks on the eyes, but Jitterbug doesn't let that throw them off. They live for moments like this—moments that sharpen them, that make them feel alive. Each step takes them farther from the group, as they pursue a ripple that catches their eye, a hint of movement near the edge of a pool. But as they pounce, their claws find only empty mud. The supposed prey had only been a shadow cast by a broken reed swaying in the water. A hiss of frustration slips from their teeth, a rare burst of irritation that they quickly stifle. If they're caught snapping at shadows, they'll never hear the end of it. But they can't let the others know about the miss. Their pride doesn't want to admit failure, and they glance around to see if anyone noticed the flub.

Swansong's steady, collected form looms nearby, frog already dangling from her jaws in a picture of hunting success, and Jitterbug grits their teeth slightly. Fine. Maybe this wasn't their best hunt, but there's no need to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that. Turning away, they flick their tail dismissively, as if the empty pounce had been a calculated movement, merely scouting the area. Then, taking a deep breath, they slip back into the shallows, half-hoping no one had noticed the miss, half-daring anyone to comment on it. After all, if they ask, they could say it was to try to startle prey out for the others—or whatever else comes to mind.

[ rolled a 1 :( ]​

 

[sneezeduck]

Sneezeduck watches closely as Swansong directs their patrol, calm and collected as usual, as if she were made for the roll. The knowledge that she speaks with Death just as he does had changed his perspective of Swansong entirely; what started as little more than an acquaintanceship had quickly sprouted into something akin to infatuation. Needless to say, the young warrior follows with high respect, dipping his head at her instruction. He would keep an eye out for this alleged otter, if it means they can return home with a bounty.

While Jitterbug moves in one direction, Sneezeduck creeps to the other. Things smell different in the cold, he observes bitterly, fighting to keep his tail from lashing irritably behind him. The early frost - it had to be a punishment for someone..

..but it seems, once again, the stars are on his side. Between thin roots and marshy ground, he spots a pigeon perfectly camouflaged in the neutrals and browns of their environment, desperately picking at the cold ground for food that was once in abundance, and now.. stripped away. Just like us, he thinks, but in far less of an empathetic way. A careful swipe of his tongue draws over his maw, and in an instant Sneezeduck is launching forward, pinning the creature to the ground and bringing a swift, honorable end to its' life.

And so, with a clean kill in his maws and a triumphantly raised tail, Sneezeduck moves back to meet the patrol so that they may move to their next spot. " Good ca'th, " he mews pointedly to Swansong through cold feathers, but spares only half a glance towards their hunting companion, who appears disappointedly empty-mawed. Through no interest of his own, he shrugs the warrior's swift disappearance away and returns his amber gaze back to their leader. " Mm - lead 'a way? "

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PREY ROLL (without encounter): 16 (success)
PREY SIZE: 7 (medium prey)
POINTS: 2
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