R
REEDBONES
Guest
❝ INFO ❞ There's nothing that motivates like an empty stomach and Reedbones' has damn near eaten itself. Not for a lack of effort on other WindClanners' parts, but a lack of fruition on his own. He refuses to eat anything caught by claws that aren't his, which is all well and fine except for these fucking birds.
He'd caught a vole. Fantastic. That one went into the pile for anyone too young or decrepit to drag themselves out onto the moor. After that, he'd surprised a trio of mice in tall grass, and because he wasn't a complete idiot, he carried them off to two separate places to bury for later. That was the plan, anyway: eat one, stash the other pair, sleep with a satisfied stomach. But instead, the sky thought it would be a rib-tickling little jest to shit out a hawk on top of his next three meals.
It's a living, ravenous beast in his throat that breathes hot flames across his tongue. "FUCK! Get back here you fucking feathered worm!" He howls, gouging deep wounds into the ground, and in his mind's eye the soil is malleable flesh giving way under his talons. "I'd feast on your brains if I thought you had any!" The bird is long out of sight, but his temper doesn't cool for it and his stomach growls so furiously it might as well have been a snarl.
He'd caught a vole. Fantastic. That one went into the pile for anyone too young or decrepit to drag themselves out onto the moor. After that, he'd surprised a trio of mice in tall grass, and because he wasn't a complete idiot, he carried them off to two separate places to bury for later. That was the plan, anyway: eat one, stash the other pair, sleep with a satisfied stomach. But instead, the sky thought it would be a rib-tickling little jest to shit out a hawk on top of his next three meals.
It's a living, ravenous beast in his throat that breathes hot flames across his tongue. "FUCK! Get back here you fucking feathered worm!" He howls, gouging deep wounds into the ground, and in his mind's eye the soil is malleable flesh giving way under his talons. "I'd feast on your brains if I thought you had any!" The bird is long out of sight, but his temper doesn't cool for it and his stomach growls so furiously it might as well have been a snarl.