- Aug 5, 2022
- 603
- 117
- 43
Sunlight shone from high above, dappling the branches with spots of light. Fly moves carefully through the trees, timing his movements precisely, lest he planned on falling to the ground below. He had left the group early this morning, having awoken early from his slumber. Not that he had gotten much sleep in the first place - he had been lost in his own thoughts. Thankfully, it was nothing bad, just Fly's own tendencies to overthink things. Although the clans had only recently been formed, he found himself reflecting on his place within ThunderClan, pondering whether it was the right decision to have followed Emberstar away from the Fourtrees. Given that a lot of Rain's group had gone on to become SkyClan, it might have been expected he would have stayed there, but for some reason, his paws had led him here instead. Given his current position in the leafy canopy, it might have been a more fitting place for him too given that they were fond of climbing. Fly, however, was not so fond of it. He had some skill but he did not like lingering in the trees for long, though he could at least recognise the benefits of catching or stalking prey from up high.
It was a small mercy that Fly had no family left to tie him back to SkyClan. He had friends, sure, but no one he was particularly close with. Two of his three sisters were dead, as were his parents, laid to rest among the trees they had so dearly loved. His other sister, Moth, was a kittypet now. He had considered the idea of joining her once, before quickly deciding against it. He had no qualms about kittypets so long as they pulled their weight in some way, but the notion of living inside one of those strange twoleg nests filled him with dread and repulsion. And how would he hunt in those strange strips of land they had?
It made him glad that he was here in the forest. Fly could not imagine not being able to hunt, or at least being limited to what he could hunt. He wouldn't say hunting calmed him, but it helped focus him, give him a direction to follow. To hunt meant to provide, and he would do what he could to provide for his clan so long as he still could.
Fly returns to the task at hand, putting aside his indecision in favour of focus. His target is a large blackbird, glossy wings catching the occasional ray of sunlight as it flitted between the branches. From where it sits now, Fly is not far behind, cautiously waiting for it to look away so he can pounce from above. He is aware it knows something is here but is unable to locate him. Finally it turns away and Fly seizes his opportunity. He bunches up before leaping on top of it, quickly grabbing it before it can dart away again. Beneath his paws it squirms in a panic, a few desperate squawks erupting from its beak before Fly puts it out of its misery and kills it with a swift bite to the neck. The bird tenses in his jaws before going still, the metallic tang of blood teasing his tongue.
Satisfied his prize has been caught, Fly waits a moment before dropping it to the floor. Most cats would carry their prey back down with them, but Fly had always found it difficult to descend from above with prey partially obscuring his vision. As the blackbird hits the floor below, Fly hears a yelp of surprise, and peers down from his branch to see one of his fellow ThunderClan cats, staring at the bird in surprise. "Sorry!" He calls down to them, apologetically. "I did not realise anyone was there."
It was a small mercy that Fly had no family left to tie him back to SkyClan. He had friends, sure, but no one he was particularly close with. Two of his three sisters were dead, as were his parents, laid to rest among the trees they had so dearly loved. His other sister, Moth, was a kittypet now. He had considered the idea of joining her once, before quickly deciding against it. He had no qualms about kittypets so long as they pulled their weight in some way, but the notion of living inside one of those strange twoleg nests filled him with dread and repulsion. And how would he hunt in those strange strips of land they had?
It made him glad that he was here in the forest. Fly could not imagine not being able to hunt, or at least being limited to what he could hunt. He wouldn't say hunting calmed him, but it helped focus him, give him a direction to follow. To hunt meant to provide, and he would do what he could to provide for his clan so long as he still could.
Fly returns to the task at hand, putting aside his indecision in favour of focus. His target is a large blackbird, glossy wings catching the occasional ray of sunlight as it flitted between the branches. From where it sits now, Fly is not far behind, cautiously waiting for it to look away so he can pounce from above. He is aware it knows something is here but is unable to locate him. Finally it turns away and Fly seizes his opportunity. He bunches up before leaping on top of it, quickly grabbing it before it can dart away again. Beneath his paws it squirms in a panic, a few desperate squawks erupting from its beak before Fly puts it out of its misery and kills it with a swift bite to the neck. The bird tenses in his jaws before going still, the metallic tang of blood teasing his tongue.
Satisfied his prize has been caught, Fly waits a moment before dropping it to the floor. Most cats would carry their prey back down with them, but Fly had always found it difficult to descend from above with prey partially obscuring his vision. As the blackbird hits the floor below, Fly hears a yelp of surprise, and peers down from his branch to see one of his fellow ThunderClan cats, staring at the bird in surprise. "Sorry!" He calls down to them, apologetically. "I did not realise anyone was there."
