There was the promise of a dark and stormy night peeking over ShadowClan's horizon and Ferndance pointed her nose towards the earth in hopes she would not have to catch more of the stench of moisture in the air. It was different from the damp of the earth, a promise of a sodden patrol and scent markers so faded that the cinnamon tabby would not be able to make heads or tails of the trees. A rare smidge of loneliness danced across the Lead Warrior's features before being buried beneath a layer of seeming indifference. She did not have time to be lonely. With so much time to dance and patrol and sing and make trouble and make amends, it would be ridiculous to sacrifice the fun for a moment of self-reflection. As if agreeing with her statement, the sky answered with a distraction. Dancing across the grey bedding were dark shapes, quick as lightning bolts. Pupils widened immediately into interested orbs. Ferndance darted her head left and right, entering a hunter's crouch from her seated position and trying her best to track one of the shapes.
In a blur, she swore she made out a leathery wing and fat body. It landed on a tree for a blink's worth of time before rejoining its swarm to hunt Stars knows what. "Bats," Ferndance breathed, voice interrupted by the 'eek eek' of the little critters flying overhead. Moons had passed since she had last encountered the creatures; perhaps in a cave; perhaps up a tree; the details had faded like an elder's colours from the Lead Warrior's brain. She tilted her head, brow wrinkled in frustration, as she tried to remember anything about them. It di not take long for the tabby's brain to find a connection. "Mice with wings," she affirmed confidently, her tail curled tightly over her odd-coloured paws. "Or was it voles? It is some little critter who grew their wings after slaying a beast most foul." Silently, Ferndance wondered if mice that killed cats would be the biggest bats of the bunch - even if creatures crumbled like leaf litter, it was no small feat for a little thing to slay a giant. Adamant in her own story, the tabby bowed her head in respect to the frantically flying chiropterans, stifling a giggle at the sudden shift in tone from the squeaking animals - that must've meant they respected her back, right?