no angst If foxes are so dangerous, why friend shaped? ⚜ Fox sighting!

Jan 17, 2024
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*+:。.。 Duckshimmer blinked, mostly in part because of the twinge that comes with bumping one's sensitive nose against something.
The moistness in her eyes would dry in an instant when she looked up, finding that, on the other end of her little nose-boop...was a fox.

A Fox.

Duckshimmer liked to think - hoped for, really - that she was a fighter first and a shrinking fawn never. But when one is caught with one of their most sensitive areas - her fucking face - in direct line with a fox's deadliest weapon - it's fucking face - one tends to lose all train of thought. So Duckshimmer is frozen in place, forgetting everything she's ever been taught and has learned through her moons of experience in fighting to instead dumbly look upon one of Shadowclan's apex predators.

She feels its hot breath pull and push at her whiskers, reeking of an acrid smell that's...oddly enough quite familiar. She thinks of Chilledstar then, and feels a sudden urge to vomit. Before she can do that, pass out, or finally will herself to at least fight before her death, the fox takes the first initiative. Struck dumb, the woman can only watch as the fox's fiercely amber eyes, the color of a rare yellow moon (she's so close to it she can even see little flecks of brown and green) narrow in focus.

And opens its jaws.

A chasm of pink greets Duckshimmer. An endless cave flecked with dried blood between every jagged stalagmite and 'ctite that line the reeking walls of many a creature's last resting place. If Duckshimmer had the time to spare to think straight, she might've dizzily observed just how long the predator's mouth was. How many teeth the damn thing had. A tooth for every kill and then some, perhaps?
Instead, she has enough of a heartbeat to catch the glow of evening light's slow descent beyond the horizon. A beautiful amber that makes Shadowclan's dreary marshland positively glimmer. She isn't sure what fills her stomach more - gratitude that this is her last sight or dismay that she won't get to see any more of the day's glorious end.

A heartbeat later, Duckshimmer thoughtlessly wonders why it's taking the fox so long to snap its jaws shut around her head.

In an immediate answer, its teeth close with a resounding clack, before a fleshy pink tongue snaps out from its strained muzzle to lick at its chops.
Duckshimmer's head remains untouched as she stares back into its drowsy blink.
Duckshimmer remains alive as it languidly stretches before rising to its feet, looming over her petite frame with ease.

Duckshimmer is left in shock as she realizes, all too quickly, that the fox has yawned at her.

It yawned at her?

The audacity!

Thankfully, she manages to keep her ire under control as the fox jumps a few paces back - away from her and (hopefully) her approaching patrol. Stuck fast still in her unblinking crouch, the torbie point watches as the fox looks back at her, dull eyes not quite so ferocious without its expected killing intent. Where that intent had gone, exactly, lies plainly for anyone to see in the various frog and toad corpses scattered throughout the flattened reeds where the fox had been sleeping. Suddenly, Duckshimmer's memory returns to her, and she recalls having followed the scent of toad to a particularly pungent clump of marsh plants. Now, she realized, that the scent she had been following had been the various eaten and half-eaten corpses, blood and guts strewn about as a fat fox ate enough to satiate its hunger then ate greedily at only its favorite parts of the frogs.

The animal had been far too full to eat Duckshimmer, it seems. Perhaps even far too bloated to bother with the effort.

Tension popping, Duckshimmer promptly collapses onto her stomach, wheezing lightly as she catches a breath she hadn't taken in as many minutes as it took for her to see her life flash before her eyes, projected upon various jagged teeth.

"That...that was close" she whispers, a bubble of hysteria manifesting in a burst of giggles.


The fox, still a few meters away, twitched its ear.
  • The fox remains a safe distance away to be gawked at by the shadowclanners! I thought it'd be a fun thread to explore a rare chance to see a deadly creature as close as possible!
    This is preferably a no-angst thread, but if you want y/c to attack, feel free! Just keep in mind IC consequences as fat foxes are still probably mean foxes <3


  • GENERAL:
    Duckshimmer
    DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
    30 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
    Shadowclan — Warrior



    COMBAT:
    Physically hard | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #ffa98f
    injuries: None currently
 

Mirepurr does not dare to yell out, despite every inch of their body desiring to make any kind of sound. The stench of fox is evident in the air, picked out delicately above the scent of frogs due to their sensitive nose, and it makes them want to shake like a leaf. It's too soon. Predators are always a threat in any Clan's life, but Chilledstar's recent loss of life still clings to their memories like a stubborn bug.

Duckshimmer's presence is also obvious to them, and Mirepurr tries their best to be quiet as they traverse the undergrowth. Making a ruckus and yelling for her to turn around would only alert the fox... and whatever else might be lurking about.

They hear and feel their own heartbeat like the source has jumped out of its place into their throat; blood roars in their ears, threatening to completely muffle the sounds of the territory. With how fast they're running (and avoiding slamming right into a tree), they have to refuse the urge to pant like a dog. Duckshimmer's life might be on the line- and she doesn't have eight more to spare.

Then, they see it. The back of Duckshimmer's head, and between her ears, the fox's muzzle. Her ears block out its eyes from this angle- but that just leaves up more for the imagination.

Mirepurr stands frozen. They stand right behind Duckshimmer, but they do not dare to move, or even breathe. Slow exhales from its nose ruffle both of their pelts... like a strong wind that threatens to knock them off their paws. Every muscle is taut with anticipation; if the fox moves, they will have to dive forward, grab Duckshimmer by the scruff of her neck and pull her backwards and into the dirt...

And although the moment seems to drag on forever, it's over.

The fox recedes, leaving behind only the echo of a muzzle snapping shut, its sound making Mirepurr's side wince, strong enough to hurt.

"That's..." Mirepurr breathes, voice shaky as they fear it rising in pitch, "That's more impressive than surviving an attack." Impressive might be the wrong word, but they feel it perfectly fitting when they consider the odds. How many times has a cat bumped into a fox and only received a bored yawn in return, instead of viciously snapping jaws tightening around thin necks?
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] This was definitely not a sight one would want to come upon. Duckshimmer almost being made into fox-food, only for it to be a yawn. Was it scary? Yes. Could they have lost another warrior, another mother, someone who had kin? Absolutely and that was what made Snowpaw's breath caught between their chest, yellow eyes carrying a slight shape of surprise, his mentor not even making a sound or a peep, probably not to alert the fox but still it could have been bad, very bad and what were they to do? How would they to explain this to Duckshimmer's kits if she had not made it.

But she did, by Starclan's will she was okay, safe. The fox grown lazy and full of frog which made Duckshimmer lucky. Mirepurr was quick to approach saying it was impressive, but a frown appeared on his lips. "If that fox had been hungry..." his words trailed off, not wanting to think about it, not with so many losses already in the past few moons. Not when Chilledstar had already lost another and who knows how many they had left. No, this was not impressive, nor had this been a good situation but a sigh pressed from his lips. "But we're glad you're safe" he stated awkwardly, this was after all, Singepaw's mother, someone he himself was not close with but besides. How would they had felt if that fox had taken their mother? Probably not been good.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 9 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
A narrow line was cut between the realms of life and death. A beauty nearly torn asunder and robbed from their lives forever, though fortune spared them from such a fate by some higher blessing. No beast of murder this time, merely a creature caught in the shroud of laziness and neutrality.

Willowburn exhaled the breath that he had been holding on to and he finally began to step closer on cautious paws. The tom was still fully bushed up, his fur on end and making him look twice his usual size. The fox was still in view so he didn't dare drop his guard as he worked his way towards Duckshimmer's side. "And they say it's just leaders who have nine lives. That was a little too close for comfort, my dear. Are you alright, Duckshimmer?" It wasn't everyday that a cat could stare death in the face and live to giggle afterwards. Instinctively he dipped his shoulder closest to the she-cat down in offering to her if she wished to lean against him for support, either physical or emotional. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

- ⋆ -