garden ungrown ;; hunting patrol

[leafhusk]

⚘ the sun hangs in the sky, swinging back and forth like a pendulum of heat. while the oak trees provide shade, their kingdom of branches can only do so much in early greenleaf. leafhusk was, admittedly, rushing her patrol to the great sycamore for more ample shade; and to ensure they had dibs before copperfang set out. she wasn’t planning on keeping her clanmates out for longer than necessary, but in times of shortage, you need to drag it for a bit.

peering through the dapples of sunlight, leafhusk spots a mouse- her body instinctively crouches, leaping forward in a claim of victory. the prey is pushed carefully to the side, the molly brushing leaves over it’s body afterwards. she lets out a small sigh, rolling her shoulders to shake the heat off. a singular mouse is surely enough to take a short break, she thinks, sliding underneath one of the roots to cool down. if anyone asks, she’ll just say she found something underneath.

// open to anyone that doesn’t have a patrol assigned

mini prompt for funsies: it is hot out! thankfully, it’s not burning, but it sure is uncomfortable. how does your character cope?​

 

[PALEFIRE]

From a short distance away, Palefire watched out of the corner of her eye as Leafhusk brought down a mouse, though admittedly her mind was not as focused on the hunt as it usually would be. The heat had been bearing down on them all day, and her exceptionally thick fur was trapping the warmth like a blanket. It felt as if the sun itself were breathing down her neck, causing her spine to tingle unpleasantly. Her claws unsheathed and dug annoyedly into the earth, a soft grumble pushing past her lips as she trod miserably alongside her clanmates. "Will this heat never go away?" she muttered with a lash of her tail.

The situation was made all the more irritating by the fact that she normally loved hunting so much, and the burning temperature of the day had completely stripped the joy of the activity away from her. Distractedly, she spotted movement in the brush nearby, dropping into a lazy crouch just as a squirrel poked its little head out. The young warrior stalked forward with practiced ease, narrowing the distance between herself and her prey quickly. Just before she prepared to leap, her mouth already watering at the prospect of tasting fresh blood, the wind shifted and carried her scent directly to the rusty-hued rodent. She swiftly dug her hind paws into the soft earth and launched herself at the squirrel, but the wretched creature had already escaped her grasp, scurrying away up a tree. "Starclan's sake," she cursed bitterly as she regained her footing, her ears flattening against her skull. "This day couldn't be less pleasant."

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‎‎ooc ♡ info

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• PALEFIRE ♡ she / her, warrior of thunderclan, 15 moons
  ⭃ lh lilac lynx point w/ low white and blue eyes. tall and slender, fast and agile.
  ⭃ currently emotionally withdrawn, all opinions are strictly ic and likely spur-of-the-moment.
  ⭃ single, open to relationships / / mentor to no one // formerly mentored by nightbird
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking.
  ⭃ penned by limerence ↛ @limericks. on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[skyclaw]

"Leafhusk," for once, the stoic tom drags his tone to a whine. A complaint spoken bluntly to his lead warrior, "If you make me move any quicker, I'll sweat off my brown patches." Suffice it to say, the heat wave was not working well for the tom, either. Normally he'd push through with no comment - but also normally, he didn't feel as if the sun was trying to burrow beneath his skin. He savored the shade when they had it but even then it felt useless.

Leafhusk caught a mouse and took a breather, whilst Palefire completely missed her catch. This patrol is shaping up to be useless - they'd waste just as much energy catching tired and frail prey, if any at all. But Skyclaw knows that the effort is worth giving, given their Clan is full of mouths to feed. He touches his nose to Palefire's ear, briefly, muttering a quiet, "Get up and try again," to her. He'd sooner lose a friend than watch her flounder and give up after a single failure.

He turns his gaze to scent the air, ears craning back as he finds another mouse's scent on the wind. He wiggles his nose as he crawls towards it and last second - he launches. It's trapped beneath his weight and he dispatches it, but just as he figured it's something old and wirey. His nieces and nephews would complain to chew on tough meat like this... But at least the apprentices would be grateful, he guesses. ​