development i'll find the wind // first catch

[LUCKYPAW]

With the announcement of this upcoming journey, Luckypaw knows his fate is now set in stone - in no world could he take back his decision, take back the anxious conviction, even if he wanted to. And oh, oh, does he want to, just as badly as he's glad that he did it; just as much as he regrets stepping up, he knows there wasn't anything else to do. If he stays here, well...the sick only get sicker, cats falling ill every day, and even if he doesn't want their only hope to rest on his shoulders, it has to rest on someone, doesn't it? He won't be the leader of this expedition, not in the slightest, and though hardly reassuring, he'll take any solace he can get, his whole body thrumming with nervous energy. Hardly had he slept that night, knowing what was to come, but that was only another thing to add to his growing pile of regrets, somewhere deep down in his chest. Just because they would all be leaving soon (never to return, maybe, the voice he tries, and fails, to ignore whispers) doesn't mean that training is going to let up - no, quite frankly, he can use all the training he can fit into the days before the next gathering, and so he follows Cygnetstare even more attentively than usual, silently buzzing as he tries to keep up with her instruction even as thoughts threaten to swallow him alive. What would the journey be like, he wonders? How different were the mountains, that lungwort grew there even when it didn't flower here and now? Of course, he can't forget that they're to be working with the other Clans, too - would they stay cordial, or would they try to pick fights, to take WindClan down and take the cure for themselves?

Normally, he's quite attentive to lessons, and since the badger fight, he's quickly improved upon keeping his senses carefully trained on his surroundings, but things aren't quite normal anymore. It's only when a new scent starts to tickle his nose that he realizes exactly what's going on - there's a rabbit nearby, and Cygnetstare clearly isn't prepping to go after it, so evidently the task must fall to him. If they'd offered him any encouragement, any helpful tips, he's missed them amidst his own thoughts, and Luckypaw swallows dryly, glancing down the yawning abyss where his prey must lie. Hunting very obviously is not his strong suit, having not caught anything at all even as Scorchpaw's been succeeding for what feels like moons, and even though they've been trying to work on it, he's not particularly hopeful about his progress. It just - it was hard, having to know the tunnels and having to know where the rabbit was going to go next. If he slipped up, if he careened too sharply around a bend, well...the darkness ahead feels more looming than ever, now that he knows gaping holes in the ground and vicious predators lurk within their depths. Not even was he successful on the moors, either; that had proven to be a real misadventure, and more than anything, a continual blow to his confidence. He couldn't catch a rabbit even out in the open - how, then, could he have the nerve to race through the tunnels and take one down with so many hidden threats?

What else is there to do but try, though? Luckypaw can't say no to Cygnetstare, can't bring himself to tell them that he's not ready - not when, if he were the one to decide, he likely wouldn't ever feel ready. He wonders whether she can sense his nerves, whether the entirety of the tunnel system can, and then he's off, turning down the tunnel in the direction of the scent on soft paws. Immediately, his training begins to kick in, nose and ears working overtime even as his tail silently brushes the wall, keeping track of his relative position to where he can guess the rabbit is. They're not too far away from camp, thankfully, so he knows these tunnels fairly well - probably more than fairly well, but there's always more to learn, always more to know, and he wouldn't want to have to rely on his memory in an emergency. His movements feel clumsy, and he's surely stumbled upon every possible pebble in his path, and yet - the rabbit is still there. This he knows, from his senses and from something deep inside him. It's like the butterfly hunt with Thriftpaw, he tells himself, trying to soothe his heartbeat even as it picks up. Could this - was this actually going to work? As he draws ever nearer to his quarry, he's learned from his past failures - Luckypaw is still just as much as he's moving, always gauging where the rabbit is, and when he's about as close as he was out on the moors, the apprentice draws to a stop completely. Willing his legs not to tremble, his paws not to fail him, he takes in a deep, silent breath; one last moment to remember where he is, where the tunnels ahead lead, and then he breaks into a sprint.

The sound of his own paws hitting the dirt fills his ears, and for a moment he's worried he's lost the rabbit amidst the din - but no, his pawsteps aren't alone, not anymore. Just as desperately as he gives chase, the rabbit runs, stout legs well-adapted to quick and steady maneuvering. There's no longer any time to wonder, no more room for self-depreciating thoughts - in his core, he knows that if he wastes even a moment to think of anything other than what he needs to continue the pursuit, all will be lost. He's careening around bends, every move calculated exactly, every step falling into line, and now the adrenaline's truly setting in, exhilaration and elation and drive taking over, pushing him onwards. The rabbit is quick, making split-second turns and dips that he'd hardly believe if he weren't following just as quickly, making those turns himself. They're not perfect, a little ground lost every time the curve is too sharp, but impossibly, he makes up for it when the tunnel straightens out, legs moving as if they were crafted with this very moment in mind. It's crafty, too, or at least it seems like it when it ducks last-second into the other side of a fork, and this is what truly solidifies his resolve - it's a near-thing, but he follows after it, whipping and whirling and rocketing through the correct tunnel. He's going to catch this rabbit - this, Luckypaw knows, even inexplicably so. Not after all this will he be content to let it slip out of his grasp - there's no chance that he can return empty-pawed.

They're getting ever-closer to camp, he thinks, and he's growing ever-closer to his prey. It feels like hours, chasing after it, though surely it can't be more than a minute or two at the most; already, his paws can feel the strain, legs pushed as hard as they can go, and yet with the final stretch just before him, he pushes harder, summoning everything in him to move just a little faster. This move pays off almost immediately - the distance between them is so short, he can practically feel the rabbit's scruffy pelt, can almost sink his claws right in. He's not going to get a better opportunity than this, he realizes, and so, with claws outstretched, he sends himself forward with a mighty leap, dirt-strewn pelt meeting dirt-strewn pelt. Claws meet flesh, and as he finds purchase, the pair go rolling forward, straight out of a tunnel entrance and onto the moors. Though dazzled by the sudden change in light, Luckypaw doesn't let it keep him from his task, claws still sunken into flesh pulling the rabbit closer, close enough to finally dispatch it. He hunches over the catch, panting in the sunlight, and it doesn't even register what he's done 'till the thick scent of blood reaches his nose, the metallic taste only just gracing his tongue. He had...he had caught the rabbit. He had caught the rabbit, all on his own. It wasn't exactly graceful, it wasn't particularly elegant, but it was his catch, his own work. "I caught it. I caught the rabbit!" Somewhere deep in his chest, something lightens, as evinced by the gleeful, wide grin laid bare to anyone around to see it.

//Optional mentor tag: @cygnetstare (but feel free to post; this isn't PAFP!)
TLDR: Luckypaw catches his first rabbit just outside of the mouth of one of the tunnels​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— the tunneler has been eyeing her apprentice with some apprehension ever since he'd stepped up for the journey ahead. it's a pleasing conviction to know that she had been graced by starclan to receive an apprentice so truly committed to windclan's ideas, one that she hardly needed teach the principles of serving your clan—luckypaw, after all, is choosing one of the ultimate sacrifices as he chooses to head towards the mountains. not the ultimate sacrifice, of course, the one every truly loyal windclanner dreamed of, but a sacrifice nonetheless. this is a net positive, but it brings some concerns to the surface - namely, how to make sure luckypaw stays on track with his apprenticeship despite the still-unmeasured time he will be spending as far from the tunnels of home as a cat could possibly get.

one might wonder why she herself had not volunteered with such a mindset, and the answer was simple - someone must hold down the moor at home. they like their clanmates but they do not trust that they all have the good of windclan in mind—or that they even really know what is best for the clan, be it a deficiency of intelligence or purposeful ignorance. starclan had brought them close to death once, evidenced by the scar rippling across their throat, and they would not be pulled close again by the claws of the stars, they are sure. she will mind the ill and the injured and the unhappy back home, and luckypaw and her brave clanmates will go forth and handle the issue of procuring the cure, lest their clanmates not rot into bone walls for the abandoned badger-set.

"now, you'll be wantin' to lean on ya nose more at this point in your apprenticeship. touch and sound're well an' good, but smell is a tunneler's best sense," her raspy mew is instructive as the two pad along, though it's becoming clear her apprentice's mind isn't entirely here - an understandable issue. the mountains must loom ahead to him like a great behemoth. cygnetstare glances sidelong in the darkness, preparing to offer some question, when the scent of rabbit wreathes her nose. they don't move, hearing luckypaw's motions in the darkness, before mewing lowly with a hidden tip of the head, "go on, give it a try. worst ya can do is miss it, better done now when it's still on the warmer side than the dead 'o leaf-bare."

she hears her apprentice sets off and follows on velvet-silent paws, tracking him by the patter of pawsteps and the tortie's own unique variant of the dirt-scent every tunneler wore like a badge of honor. they have building confidence in luckypaw's capabilities and they hang back to let him work on his own, that and to keep from confusing luckypaw or startling the rabbit with some inopportune movement or another. their speed picks up, though they hang behind their apprentice, and she notes with pride that he's learned to master the tunnels' bends and dips. lean sinew, fresh with the work of the new tunnel and long hours hiding from the illness ravaging camp, lines her skinny limbs and keeps her moving easily some length behind the tom.

"ay, good one! first catch, ain't it?" though the brightness of the moors stabs her eyes something fierce, milkweed eyes glitter with pride as they emerge, a good while after luckypaw and his prey are out. her grin is a bending and uncanny thing but genuine as the chimera aims to bump luckypaw with her own bony shoulder in congratulations, glancing around and crowing to anyone nearby, "my 'prentice's made his first catch!"

NOT YET CORPSES (♱) 𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳, 𝑾𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑻

• ooc: ——
  
• nothing here, have a nice day :-)
• 
  — cygnetstare
  — she/they ; tunneler of windclan ; 35 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  — <-- art by raenya
  

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

Sootstar and @BLUEPAW tranverse the moors, a kill of there own dragging behind them. The hare had almost gottem away, during the hunt it had seemed to know what it was doing by leading them into sand filled caverns. Yet resillience is what won them the catch, the rabbits tricks were no match for well-trained and expirenced tunnelers. Luckypaw was a younger tunneler apprentice, six or five whole moons behind Bluepaw. The proud exclamations of success had drawn her over and she gives the tri-colored youth a look of approval. ”Congratulations.” She meows, recalling her own apprentice’s first catch. ”Hunting in the tunnels isn’t easy, youand Cygnentstare should be proud.” Eyes filled with praise land on the unusual tunneler.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Upon hearing Cygnetstare’s call, saying that her apprentice has caught his first prey, the calico comes trotting over to join the two. Her golden gaze settles on Luckypaw after a moment, grin curling across her muzzle as she spots the rabbit that her son stands over. His very first catch, one that he will certainly remember for months to come. She hopes that this will drive her son to be an even greater tunneler, because she knows that he will be. "Good work, Luckypaw. The clan needs all the prey it can get right now." Another cat has been added to those contributing to their prey pile; with so many of their warriors falling sick, the strain on their hunters has only grown.

The pride that she feels in her son fills her chest with warmth, a flame unwavering. She would be jealous of Cygnetstare, getting to mentor the tricolored young tom, but her fondness for the pale-furred tunneler outweighs any ill feelings. She is grateful, truthfully, that Luckypaw was assigned to such a capable warrior, and a respectable tunneler. "I’m sure your father will be just as proud," she adds, smiling warmly down at her kit. It must be difficult for him, she thinks, watching his sister assigned as their father’s apprentice while he was isolated in the tunnels. She only hopes that her support is enough.​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluepaw’s teeth plunge deep into the scruff of a rabbit nearly her size, and though her jaw aches and her neck burns, she carries it dutifully. The catch had been a team effort between herself and Sootstar, and it had been well-earned. To herself, she thinks about how the prize would feed a host of kits and queens on its lonesome, to say nothing of Luckypaw’s first catch.

She did not dislike Luckypaw, but it had always been clear to her the pale tortoiseshell had always been a little… different than Scorchstreak’s other kits. Where his siblings were gentle or inquisitive, Luckypaw had always seemed out-of-place, quiet. Scorchpaw especially seems to have stolen all of her parents’ ferocity while in the womb, leaving none at all for poor Luckypaw. Still, she has to offer a small, polite smile at the youth and add her congratulations to the chorus of his mentor’s, his mother’s, and Sootstar’s. “That’s a lovely catch, Luckypaw. Well done.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — bluekit . bluepaw
  — she/her, apprentice of windclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — long-haired blue she-cat with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meg

​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Another yowl crests over the moor. This time, it isn't a call of fear, or another desperate caterwaul that some other disaster has come to do it all in. The initial confusion is understandable—it's Cygnetstare, after all, who gives the announcement, and her grave-rough voice has this sense of foreboding about it. But the call is a good one, and Sedgepounce is happy to be within the vicinity when it happens.

There's a bird caught in his teeth when he finds the crowd. It was inches from his claws when Cygnetstare's voice rang from over the hill; frantic wings spreading, flapping nearly out of reach. He's kind of glad he was hunting alone, because the flippy gymnastics he had to do to catch the thing midair was probably quite the spectacle.

Eventually he finds Luckypaw, whose nervous face and wide, freakishly owlish eyes have been overwhelmed with glee in the moment. It might be the first time that Sedgepounce has ever really seen him smile—which can't be right, but still feels true. The small crowd which gathers to observe the kill, crumpled in the dirt in snared in a stream of gray daylight, gives congratulations with smiles and praise deserved. It's a nice change of pace with all the...everything else that's been going on.

"Wooooo!" Sedgepounce calls, his felled bird abandoned at his paws. "Yeah, Luckypaw!"​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌─────────────────── ☽【❖】☾ ───────────────────┐​

The first to find him is Cygnetstare, of course, and as their eyes light up with pride even under the sharp rays of the sun, lips twisting into a smile, he meets them with his own joy, a purr rising up in his chest. "First one,", he echoes, affirms. Beneath him, the rabbit - his first kill - is still cooling, and it does nothing to slow his heartbeat, thumping from the chase and from the aftermath and perhaps even thumping just to thump, to show him that he's alive and that he's successful and that things really do work out, eventually. The feeling of shoulder meeting shoulder is almost startling even as he sees it coming, and though Luckypaw fumbles for a moment, his grin does not, growing only wider at the brief moment of contact, as if it were some sort of conduit for the excitement buzzing in the air between the pair. The words out of his own mouth had been instinctive, as if he were reaffirming to himself that he had actually made the catch, but with Cygnetstare, it's purposeful, a call to those around to come and look, to come and see what he's accomplished, and though normally he'd be uncomfortable with the attention, this is perhaps the first moment that he truly does want his clanmates to see him, to see what he's done. Pride practically dripping off of him, the apprentice maneuvers slightly, freeing up the rabbit so that he might more readily show it off.

It's not long before others begin to come across the duo, though whether summoned by Cygnetstare or just by plain chance, he'll never know; regardless, seeing Sootstar's figure cut across the moors, followed closely by Bluepaw, sends a wash of nerves over him for a moment. More than anything else, he wants to impress her - to impress Scorchstreak, Badgermoon, Scorchpaw, too, but the attention of his leader is something special among others. Quick to offer praise, Luckypaw practically beams, even as he tries to look at least a little bit less like a kit on their first outing. Whether or not he's successful, he still offers a respectful dip of his head, fangs practically showing through his wide grin. "Thank you, both. Cygnetstare - well, she taught me well," he confirms, shooting a glance back towards his odd mentor. Once upon a time, they'd been off-putting, strange and fearsome, but now? He can't exactly claim that she's not still a little strange, but her presence is now as familiar as the dirt he walks beneath, and even if he sometimes still misses black and orange and white, he's glad that Cygnetstare is his mentor. As if summoned by his very thoughts, Scorchstreak is the next he spots, and just like with Sootstar's appearance, his chest swells with pride even as he tries to sit up straighter, to show off his catch and himself.

Even with the reminder of the spreading illness, that his catch will likely go to someone battling with yellowcough, it doesn't quite dim the glow of pride he feels - how could anything, he thinks? What could possibly bring him back down to earth, after the praise lobbied his way and the feeling of sinking his claws into the still-warm body of a rabbit for the very first time. This must be how Scorchpaw had felt - the setting different, the circumstances shifted, but surely the warmth in his chest had to have been shared by his sister, icy as she could be at times. Maybe he'd been right to be jealous of that flame, felt so much sooner than his; and yet, that's in the past now. The rabbit before him has made that much certain - there's no need for jealousy, of Scorchpaw or even any of the other apprentices, not when he's on the same level as them, now. Sure, they've got more practice, but in this moment, he feels he could conquer the world, could learn how to do anything, could even dare to catch up past the perceived gulf between him and his peers. It's not like he's never seen Scorchstreak happy, or even proud, but it's a different beast entirely when she's proud of him and him alone, for his actions; to say he's waiting for this moment since he'd first been apprenticed, since he'd first seen Scorchpaw with her own mouse, well, that would be more than a fair conclusion.

The mention of Badgermoon sends his eyes to the moors for a moment, as if he, too, might appear right out of his thoughts, maybe even with Scorchpaw in tow, and he's only mildly disappointed when he doesn't spot either of them. No matter - he'd have plenty of chances to show off his catch later, toting it around camp before finally passing it off to someone who would need it more than he would. "Yeah! I'll show him later, when we're done for the day!" A glance is spared in Cygnetstare's direction - with the coming journey, he'd need every last bit of help they could share with him, and even after his success he's not expecting to pack in for the day, unless it was to drop the kill off and find something else to fill the rest of the day. He'd certainly enjoy the time off, he thinks, though he'd also feel guilty about it, and besides, time spent not preparing meant time spent thinking, thinking about the upcoming journey, and he's already had more than enough of that for the day. Sedgepounce appears with a flourish, a cheer and congratulations on his lips, and Luckypaw jerks his way, toothy grin and crinkled eyes offered in return. The new warrior bears his own catch, just like Bluepaw, and in this moment he can't help but feel a bit of kinship with them, as though he's finally understanding just what it means to be a part of WindClan, an asset in the making. It feels...good, great, better even than words can describe, and privately he hopes that every catch after this comes with even a fraction of the joy felt today.​

i&#039;m falling into place, but still the timing&#039;s not right (☘) yeah that&#039;s a fire i just can&#039;t seem to light

• OOC: --​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 5 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​