FEELING SO LOST AT SEA -- phase II hunting

[DAFFODILPAW]

The temperature in the air only continues to drop as days go on, and though the frost nips at his paws, it's not enough to stop him from his duties, sluggish as he may feel. Of his weak points, hunting is perhaps the greatest, but it's certainly not something he can neglect - not with the bodies inhabiting the nursery, the new kits and kits still to come. Sooner or later, he'll have to catch something, Fawnwhisker keeps assuring him, no more concerned the longer he goes with no prizes to his name, but her nonchalant demeanor does nothing to settle the tight feeling in his chest at the thought. Better to get out there and practice before it gets even colder, he figures, though his usual cheer is somewhat dampened as the hunting patrol sets out.

The first hurdle is tracking down anything to begin with, which - well, historically, that's always been the part he's best at. Finding scents had come easy enough, following them less so, but Daffodilpaw can at least say he's done that more effectively than actually stalking his quarry. Today, though, it seems even that is a struggle; no matter how he skulks and stalks, padding through underbrush and circling trees, everything he does seems futile. The early morning frost (quickly turning to mid-morning and even early afternoon frost) seems to dampen his senses as surely as it leaves his paws stinging, though he's not yet ready to give up empty-pawed - he can't, not when so many others are depending on him to bring something back.

Dead-set though he is, determination is no replacement for progress, and sooner than later Daffodilpaw's failure to so much as scent anything begins to catch up with him. He's tried everything - climbing higher to gain some sort of advantage, tuning out everything around him, focusing on everything around him, and still, nothing, besides a few empty leads. Old scents, the lot of them; far too old to have come from anything worth the effort of tracking.

It's not quite time for the patrol to return, Daffodilpaw knows, though he's doubtful of finding anything else before they do turn tail and head home. He senses one of his regrouping patrolmates nearby, and half turns to greet them, feeling deflated. "I can't scent anything past all this frost..." Perhaps there's still time for a stroke of luck, some inspiration to hit him, though with the way the cold thrums through his paws Daffodilpaw fears it would take nothing short of a miracle for it to happen on this patrol.​

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ BUT GOD I'M STILL CIRCLING THROUGH ❀ THE DIALOGUES I COULD'VE HAD WITH YOU ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎

• OOC: Rolled a 15 to avoid an encounter & a 9 to catch nothing at all </3
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• REF PENDING, TEEHEE <3
  
• DAFFODILKIT / DAFFODILPAW —. He/him, apprentice of SkyClan
  — .Chyrsaliswing x Honeysplash, littermate to Weaselpaw & Adderpaw
  — . 8 moons old, ages on the 6th
  — .An average, well-muscled orange-and-white dipped cream tom with mismatched eyes.
  — .People-pleaser with a desire to do good - dedicated, but still fun-loving
  — .Peaceful & healing powerplay permitted - brushing up against him, shoulder bumps, etc.
  — .Penned by Hijinks - feel free to DM me on Discord to plot! ^^
  ​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

the dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn't. my guilt will not purify me.​

The old tom had half a mind to thank the stars for lettin' him have a decent day of manageable pain that didn't make him want to topple over and pull his damn bones apart in frustration. Duskpool kept close to the back of the huntin' patrol as they set off on cold paws, mangled ear swivelin' in muted annoyance, castin' a deadpan molten copper across the frost-covered lands. He swallowed the bubbling dread that coated his stomach lining to focus on findin' somethin' viable in this blasted weather.

He glanced at Foxglovepaw padding alongside him, muzzle wrinkling absently, lost in thought. He really ought to pull the tom aside and talk, but for now, Duskpool continued ahead, frost-covered whiskers quivering.

A faint scent of a mouse brushed against the roof of his mouth, mangled ear swiveling in its direction. He cast Foxglovepaw an idle glance, rumbling a quiet, "Follow me". His large body slipped through the undergrowth and away from the huntin' patrol, keepin' an eye on the cinnamon tom.

He crept along the scent trail, muscles coiling beneath scarred flesh, molten copper narrowing, catchin' sight of a feeble mouse scurrying along the frost-bitten ground when he lunched forward, killin' it with a swift bite to its throat.

Duskpool returned to his apprentice's side, droppin' the mouse between massive paws. "Tell me this, kiddo—" He began with a slow rumble, "Do ya smell anythin' out here beside the frost?" He knew the apprentice could hunt, but it ain't nothing to get cocky about when the frost was gettin' bitter and colder as the days passed.​

my bones are smoldering ✦ and my knuckles are bloody

• ooc —— @Foxglovepaw.
  
  rolled 20 + 7
• 
  release me from my promise to you. don't make me do this anymore. don't make me go on without you
  
  — unknown
• duskpool he/him
  ♡ a massive scarred obsidian-smoked ghost makeral tabby maine coon / norwegian forest mix w/ molten copper eyes and low-white
  ♡ warrior of skyclan
  ♡ sixty moons; ages on the 1st of every month
  ♡ speech thought attack
  ♡ peaceful + healing powerplay permitted
  
  
  penned by blueblossomtea​

​

 

[SILLYBREEZE]

The frost bites at xir paws as Sillybreeze trails after the patrol, xir breath puffing visibly in the chilly air. Xe keeps xir ears high and alert, trying to focus despite the slow creep of discouragement. Sillybreeze tells himself this time will be different, though xe can't shake the weight of failure clinging to xem like the frost clinging to the grass. It's no small comfort to hear the others discussing their strategies and successes, but their words buzz distantly in xir ears. Her paws crunch lightly against the frozen ground as she steps into the undergrowth, pulling herself away from the group. Maybe alone, he'll have a chance to prove himself—to find something, anything, to bring back for the nursery or the elders.

Sniffing the air, their senses strain for even the faintest hint of prey. Yet the frost muddles everything, making it near impossible to pick out a fresh scent trail. Sillybreeze slows, xir tail flicking with frustration. What's the use of tracking skills if the quarry refuses to leave signs? Still, they push onward, clawing at every fleeting hope, only to be met with silence and old trails that lead nowhere. "Come on, Sillybreeze," xe mutters to herself under her breath. "You've got this." But the words feel hollow, drifting away into the crisp morning air.

Stalking carefully along a narrow trail, xe catches sight of movement—just a flicker—and freezes. He crouches low, his body taut with anticipation. But when it edges closer, a flutter of wings sends its target flying before it can even fully register it. A harsh sigh escapes aer, aer ears flattening momentarily before ae straightens, shaking off aer frustration. There's no time to mope—not when there are so many cats, and the Clan needs food. As vi circles back toward the others, vi spots a faint shadow moving through the brush. "I haven't scented anything either," she confesses, stopping beside a patrolmate. The disappointment in their own voice feels almost suffocating, though they try to mask it with a small, uncertain grin. "But maybe there's still time?" Even as the hope leaves his words, Sillybreeze steels herself. It might not have found anything this time, but they'll try again tomorrow—and the day after, and the day after that.

[ rolled a 7 ]​

 

[marspaw]

Marspaw's claws dig into the frosted earth as he prowls forward, determined to prove himself. The cold air nips at his nose, but his pride stings more than the frost ever could. He's here to hunt, and he's not going to fail. Not again. The scent of the wind is crisp, but there's no prey. The usual hum of the forest is strangely muted, and each step feels like a futile echo. His breath comes out in puffs of mist, and he grits his teeth, trying not to let frustration slip through. His tail flicks in irritation, sending flakes of snow spiraling into the air.

He had started this patrol with confidence, but now that confidence has turned to doubt. The last few times he's gone hunting, the results have been less than stellar, and the empty feeling gnaws at him. His paws are cold, his mind sharper than it should be, ticking off each failed attempt. He should've caught something by now. Everyone else is out here making progress, their kills, however small, coming in steadily. Why can't he catch anything? His eyes scan the ground, but the frost doesn't make tracking any easier. The trail he follows is faint, barely perceptible, but he's been at this long enough to know how to follow it. Still, it's slow work. He crouches low, muscles coiling, ears twitching as he listens for any sound of life. But the more he waits, the more he realizes—there's nothing. Not even the distant scurry of a mouse or the faint rustle of leaves underfoot. Just… silence.

Frustration boils in his chest, but he stifles it. No time for weakness. Not now. The minutes stretch on, and still nothing. Every shadow he moves toward turns out to be a trick of the light or a trick of his mind. His body tenses as he pauses, ears perked, but it's all empty noise. No fresh scents, no prey scurrying beneath the snow. The frost bites harder into his paws, the chill seeping through to his bones. He snaps his head back in frustration, catching a glimpse of one of his patrolmates nearby. They don't seem to have had any luck either. "Nothing," Marspaw mutters, his voice clipped, eyes narrowed as he meets the other's gaze. "Can't smell anything, can't find anything. This is useless."

He exhales, the disappointment thick in his chest, and with one last frustrated glance around, he turns back toward the others. The cold has crept into his bones, but it's the emptiness of his paws that stings the most.

[ rolled a 1 so he fails SO bad ]​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather frowns as she feels the morale of the patrol sinking. They were right. The frosted forest was barren of any traces of prey. At least Duskpool had been blessed enough to catch a plump mouse. "Theres still time." Figfeather assures Sillybreeze and the rest of the patrol, her eyes scanning the trees for any movement. "Duskpool found something, after all. There has to be more..." Somewhere...

"It's important not to give up." She tells Marspaw, "If a warrior gives up, he might as well head home. He won't find anything if he's already accepted defeat." Figfeather knows the apprentice is just disappointed, this is his first leafbare, after all. They're all not use to these poor hunting conditions. Still, she spoke true, no hunting patrol that already gave up would ever find anything.

 

[BLAZINGHEART]

𓆩✦𓆪 — It seems that Blazingheart would stumble upon nothing either like the rest of his patrolmates, he can't help the frown that pulls at his lips and his feathery ear flicks to the side as Figfeather how it's important to not give up. She has a point but he can feel himself growing tired but from out in the cold so long and he nods at what she says only to interject "Figfeather's right... we might stumble onto something soon if we keep our chins up." Surely, if Duskpool had managed to find something out here despite all the frost and the cold that threatens to bite their paws... Perhaps, a mouse would tumble into his paws if he prays Starclan for it.

His bottlebrush tail flicks behind him carefully and Blazingheart pushes onwards with his snout lifting to see if he could catch the scent of any prey that may be nearby hiding somewhere within the snow or frosted foliage. His large ears angling forward to try catch any sound of anything too but his continous searching is beginning to prove fruitless but he supposes that they would likely move farther along in a different spot to see if they found anything else.

CHECK YOUR HEARTBEAT AGAINST MINE 𓆩✦𓆪 BUT THERE'S NO TRACE OF IT THIS TIME

• ooc — rolled a 4/found nothing

• 

  WARRIOR SKILLS;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ HUNTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ TRACKING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ COMBAT
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ STEALTH
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ STRATEGY
  — ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ SWIMMING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ CLIMBING
• 
  ✦ a large, longhaired red tabby feline with green eyes
  ✦ blazingheart's a sharp tongued warrior that can oftentimes come off as insensitive or uncaring even if it isn't necessarily his intent upon first meeting. she tends to come off awkward during small conversations so she will dismiss herself if she finds the situation tense. she's rather prickly due to several events in her life and seen tense for the most part but she's trying to improve, all of her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 16 moons old; ages the 28th every month
  ✦ asexual biromantic; currently interested in no one
  ✦ child of coyotecrest and howlfire
  ✦ sibling to wolfpaw and hawkspine
  ✦ currently mentoring ... n/a
  ✦ hard to befriend due to how standoffish she comes off as ; oftentimes quick to anger ; very reckless
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

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