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.
  • Like
Reactions: SOOTSTAR

"Ouch! I can feel those insults, heh! Rough day, buddy?" Galepaw had been crouching low in the grass, naturally avoiding anything flapping above in the sky with renewed wariness. He wasn't fully grown yet and could all too easily become an easy catch for large predatory birds, so he decided to air on the side of caution. Still, his position had given him a pretty good vantage of the show put on by Reedbones, which had been quite amusing to say the very least.

"Need a paw? A hug maybe? Heh, I can see the steam coming off your pelt." The apprentice taunted with glee, all the while bunching up his legs beneath him in case he needed to beat a hasty retreat in order to avoid a smack from the warrior.

Wow, that was a shout! If that bird hadn't already warned all his friends, they were sure scared off now. Humour rippled from Mallowlark as usual upon his approach, unable to contain his laughter as he bounded over. Slate-saucer eyes fastened themselves upon the irate warrior, the hawk disappearing into the clouds, taken into their fluffy rain-heavy embrace. How unlucky! He'd never had a hunting rival, and hawks had such an advantage with all the skies at their dispense. Imagine if cats had wings, fur-covered and bony? The thought sent a bursting cackle cracking through his throat, choked down only before it became a fit.

Though it was shattered from any semblance seriousness with his bubbling giggles, Mallowlark offered a scrap of advice. "You don't want its- HAH, brains, trust me." He had to admit curiosity had once got the better of him- hadn't it everyone?- and sometimes you had to warn people from making the same mistakes. No, he stuck with flesh now. The blood and the organs and the bones were not for feasting but games and art, nowadays... that was a much better way to avoid wasting them.

"Ya'll loud as blazes, can't a fella nap in the grass 'round here?" It was not the short swear or the burst of noise that had roused him, but the sparrow that had been cautiously pecking around his sleeping form suddenly beating down its wings to take to the air, the burst of feathers and the sound the wind ripping past him had instilled in him a brief surge of panic that made him think of the hawks but once he was back on his feet the apprentice slowly calmed. This close to camp was safe, one had to go further out to get into the mess of where those predatory birds hunted and he wasn't so inclined to do so anytime soon. Sepia-toned legs carried him over and he offered the three of them a lazy smile, wheat stem twirling in his mouth nonchalantly, "Reckon ye won't get much out of'em if its brains yer wantin. Birdbrain is an insult fer a reason~" Dandelionpaw's low purr of amusement rose up to his chest and he glanced around in a disinterested manner before waving a paw, "If'n ye wanna keep huntin' wager we ought to go somewhere else?"
Nothing was going to be waiting for them here anymore. Not after that display.

INFO The little stripling wants to mock him, does he? It is tempting to knock him upside the head, box his ears and grin nastily all the while— but it wouldn't teach the shit anything. Might make Reedbones feel better, though. Briefly. He's young enough he practically reeks of whatever teats he suckled, and he's always preferred a challenge in everything he does for his own benefit. So instead of swatting Galepaw, he smiles toothily and swaggers a little closer, not above returning the jape. "Would you? Give me a hug?" Might've been embarrassing how slight the height difference is, if Reedbones hadn't already made peace with knowing many will tower over him. It just means their throats are easier to get to. "Didn't take you for being rabbit-raised."

He steps back, putting some distance between them again and returning a scowl at the sky. Looks like the clouds're preparing to piss on him too.

Hawk-hating eyes glance over at the pale mammoth that is Mallowlark. His voice is, as always, a blunt instrument taken to Reedbones' nerves— which are a fraying rope on their best days. But he's kept himself in check where the moor-cats are concerned. "But I do. It's the fucking principle of it. I'll find that bird and—" He's set on delving into the grisly details of his intentions when another agitating voice interrupts.

Oh, sometimes he misses his days as Yngvarr.

His stare rolls skyward. Fuck, but he barely understands the kid, like talking takes too much effort. Reedbones wants to tug on his tongue to straighten it out. "We?" He snorts. "I don't need to be followed by three hatchlings still wet and twitching."

Galepaw's expression blanked as he stared at Reedbones with sudden uncertainty. Surely the older tom wasn't being serious... right? He recoiled somewhat when the tom approached before finally sinking down into the grass again. Nope, he needed to reassess this. Fortunately Marrowlark and Dandelionpaw made themselves out to be perfect distractions for the time being whilst he cobbled together his thoughts once more.

It's during that moment of quiet that a devious ploy springs into his cheeky lil head, stoked somewhat by Reedbones' mocking words. "I'm no hatchling! I'll show him." The apprentice sprang up from the grass once more with a grin beaming across his face. "Could always use Reedbones as live bait to lure those daft birds down. He stinks like carrion, and since he thinks the rest of us are such hatchlings he should get the shitty end of the job! Whadda say, not too scared are ya?"
  • Like
Reactions: REEDBONES