- Jan 15, 2023
- 556
- 141
- 43
The camp is quiet just after sunset, with the clan either settling in to sleep or quietly staying up to do whatever they do before the nighttime hits them in full. The air has turned nearly frigid beneath the dark sky, but still Scorchstreak lingers outside the entrance to the camp, blazing eyes scanning the horizon for movement. Perhaps if she just waits long enough, the prey creatures of the moor will get bold, and she can catch a quick meal aboveground. But rather than a rabbit or even a mouse, the tunneler spots something else, a quick movement at the corner of her eye.
There, flying high above the grassy plain, white moonlight gleaming against pale feathers. An owl. Scorchstreak has never faced one down, head to head, never been directly in the path of one—but she knows danger when she sees it. And the night bird, with talons much longer and sharper than the calico’s own, is one of the most dangerous predators of the moorland. Luckily, this one’s interest seems to lie elsewhere, a good ways out from WindClan’s camp and the tiny owl-bait kittens who toddle around inside of it.
Their head jerks to the side, gaze landing squarely upon the first clanmate they know is nearby. "Icepaw," they hiss, quiet in the darkness. They jut their chin toward the sky, pointing out the owl. "Look." They know the apprentice is smart, careful; surely they‘ve seen an owl before. All the same, though, the birds are a treat to observe, especially when they make sudden dives for prey. We’re Scorchstreak a braver—or perhaps more foolish—cat, they may attempt to snatch an owl’s prey right from beneath those talons.
// @icepaw
There, flying high above the grassy plain, white moonlight gleaming against pale feathers. An owl. Scorchstreak has never faced one down, head to head, never been directly in the path of one—but she knows danger when she sees it. And the night bird, with talons much longer and sharper than the calico’s own, is one of the most dangerous predators of the moorland. Luckily, this one’s interest seems to lie elsewhere, a good ways out from WindClan’s camp and the tiny owl-bait kittens who toddle around inside of it.
Their head jerks to the side, gaze landing squarely upon the first clanmate they know is nearby. "Icepaw," they hiss, quiet in the darkness. They jut their chin toward the sky, pointing out the owl. "Look." They know the apprentice is smart, careful; surely they‘ve seen an owl before. All the same, though, the birds are a treat to observe, especially when they make sudden dives for prey. We’re Scorchstreak a braver—or perhaps more foolish—cat, they may attempt to snatch an owl’s prey right from beneath those talons.
// @icepaw
[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]