FOREVER WINTER [ hunting phase iv ]

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) the wind howls like a wounded animal as willowroot guides her patrol through the swirling snow. flakes, sharp as ice, whip across her face, blurring the world into a white void as she stumbles forth. the cold has settled deep in her bones, a heavy, unrelenting presence that chokes her with every breath she takes, but still she struggles on. verdant eyes flick about, trying to pinpoint a direction to head, and even though the smoke woman has lived by this river for the majority of her life, she can't help the fear of getting lost. the blizzard has strengthened with the night, and this dawn patrol feels as useless as any sent out before, if not more.

"st-stay together," she orders her group, ivory teeth chattering slightly. the thought of getting lost pangs anxiety in her head, the idea that she may not return to her children. her silky fur is not thick enough to block out the chill, and it burns in her chest as she keeps walking, forcing the thought to the back of her mind. the river shines ahead, ice-crusted, the holes other warriors have smashed within it already closed over with more frost. there is very little chance that fish will be found, but willowroot heads to the water anyway.

the night-queen scents the air, aware that in this time of desperation, predators and enemies, rogue or clan, have attacked patrols at a much higher rate. there is no smell but the icy, clean scent of snow. pushing her nose into the snow coating the ice, she snuffles, breathing sharply. a shadow moves beneath the crystalline surface, large, looming, and hope blossoms within the smoke feline's chest. a slender paw comes down with surprising strength to crack through the ice, the rest of her foreleg following. the water crashes over her, and she plunges her head into the river, strong jaws closing down on flesh. willowroot hauls the fish from the water, ignoring the numbness overtaking her singular ear, overtaking her paws. the prey is half the size of her, a large bass, maw still open as it passes on. "g-got it," she rasps, and feels a cough build in her throat. nose dripping, the woman glances up.

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // rolled a 12 for health and contracted whitecough, rolled an 11 for encounter, meaning none, a 13 for finding prey, and a 17 for prey size. earned 3 points. "#91A26C"
• 
• WILLOWROOT ☾ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. 46 MOONS. MENTORING ECHOPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smoky long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, cut through with dark ghost stripes. friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape, and her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.

​

 

[robinheart]

The harsh winds and wall of white should deter the medicine cat apprentice from leaving camp, but her clan needs all the help it can get. For moons they hunted and cared for her while she raised kits and healed a broken leg. Robinheart had to begin to return the favor.

Or at least try.

She squints her eyes through the whipped air, wincing as flakes of snow pelt her face and body. 'St-Stay together,' Willowroot commands from just ahead, prompting the tortoiseshell to limp a bit faster to keep pace. The bitter cold numbs her hind leg to the point almost easing it of pain entirely. Though the blizzard has made the mended limb all the stiffer – a real drawback when trying to stay with a group.

The cracking of ice and splash of water signal to Robinheart that her former mentor found something; her rasp and the blurred outline of a massive fish prove it so. Robinheart scans the hole for a flash of scales, her nose twitches for the scent of something but she comes up empty pawed.

"We sh-should not linger… it's too dangerous," she murmurs as citrine eyes meet emerald chips through the blizzard conditions. The cold has begun stinging and numbing her paws to the point of severe discomfort, her nose and ear tips as well.

// rolled an 8 for a wee bit of frostbite and a 10, so no prey located. zero points … weh ​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[Twinkleflight]

Twinkleflight grimaces at the howling winds, whipping her whiskers and tufts of fur that's not slicked back in wild direction. She digs cold paws into the snow, she glances to Robinheart and Willowroot in an attempt to find comradery in the miserable conditions. They flick their tail and try to part their jaws, blinking back tears from dried eyes. Though the wind is unrelenting, Twinkleflight finds that she can't smell anything in particular. Nothing lingers in the air other than the smell of fresh snowfall, there's an order to stick together and despite how reckless she is they don't find themself compelled to trot away. That seemed to be a death wish, instead she stays beside Robinheart with another grimace, digging her paws further in the snow in another futile attempt to smell something.

She shivers in the wake of the next gust of wind, teeth chattering as they try to look for something instead. This too just doesn't help, the snow too thick as they reside by the riverside, she lingers next to Robinheart to peer into the crack of the ice where fish lie. It seems that Willowroot may be the only one who's found anything. Or maybe she was too loud and scared the fish off, it's only natural of course. Since one has to be loud to crack the ice so fish can be caught, even if that sacrifices everyone's catches.

They could just be a lousy hunter, that is just as likely. Having to resort to stealing from predators before instead of finding something when times were difficult. With a frustrated sigh, they nod in agreement with Robinheart's murmur. Unable to stop another chill that creeps up her spine "we could always try again later?" They suggest hopefully.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ MAMA SAID IM SPECIAL ➹ I WAS‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• Rolled a 2 for hunting and a 3 for health (chills)!
• 
• TWINKLEFLIGHT
  They/she, RiverClan apprentice, 11 moons
  ★ A sleek yet tufted short haired blue point with blue eyes
  ☆ Littermates w/ Eveningpaw, Horizonpaw and Snowflakekit †
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ Speech (#C9BAF3), thoughts
  ★penned by Juice | ouijeejuice on discord

​

 

[PIKESPLASH]

It's times like these he curses his pelt. His short fur does little to keep him warm, but judging from Willowroot who had been blessed with long fur... Looks like everyone's doomed. The silver tom can barely make out her orders against the howling wind, his frame trembling, teeth chattering. The frost on his whiskers does little to soothe his aches. Willowroot leads them to the river, hoping to bring something for their clan. Twinkleflight and Robinheart don't fair as well either. All of them are freezing, but turning back without trying to catch something was foolish. After all, they dragged themselves all the way out here.

Numb limbs guide him, each step wet and painful. Silver paws shift the snow beneath him, trying to find any semblance of a scent. Nothing. There is nothing. Even as he brings his nose to ground and nudges away powdery white in desperation. With a frustrated sigh, he trudges his way to Robinheart and Twinkleflight. Their words hold merit. The longer they stay here, the more likely they would freeze to death. At least Willowroot found something. "A-a-after, s-s-some rest. Cahn t-try lahter," the older warrior manages to say through chattering teeth. A chill runs through his spin once more. He can't help but sneeze.

Rolled a 4 for health (chills) and 7 for hunting (Can't find a scent trail under all of the snow). no points waghhh

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦˚.✧˚✧˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✧˚✦˚✦.˚✧

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• This storm... it nipped cruelly at exposed scars, ripped through thin fur to rake its frigid claws anywhere it could find. The snow itself its own threat... blinding when the sun shone off of it through peeks in the clouds (if you could even afford that small glimmer of light these days). It obscured paths... made it easy to lose your own sense of direction in a sea of white. How she found her teeth wrapped around a water vole, she isn't sure...
  
  It is warm, dangling from her jaws like the meager offering that it is. Padding back towards her clan-mates, whose expressions are dogged and defeated, the blue lynx point offers a sympathetic glance to their different shivering forms. It is not a day of great celebration anymore... not when they struggle over scraps. Not when their toes cry under the bite of the frost. She sets her piece down, noting how few others have had any luck, "We can... try again later... Don't... freeze... out here... for nothing..." Moonbeam and Robinheart didn't need the additional stress of having an icicle dragged back to camp, begging to be warmed back to a cat-like state.
  
  Willowroot, an example of her experience, has something to show for... and that will have to be enough for now.
• about
  
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  
  ooc notes ✦ 20 for health, 12 for prey, 3 for size. one point
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ .
  
  . ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦ . . ˚ ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦ ˚ ✦ . . ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  
  . ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦ ​