camp I'M GONNA WIN | goose, rta

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

He heard the thing before he saw it, honking away near the edge of the stream. Tybalt crept forward through the undergrowth, his fur masked behind the reeds. Didn't geese fly off when it started getting cold? And live in groups? Curious, Tybalt watched in silence. It was bigger than a duck but small for a goose--maybe it was still young, and would probably put up a fight. But it was also alone, without the protection of the rest of it's group. It might hurt him, but it was more food than the clan had seen in a while.

The wavy-furred tom sprang, claws unsheathed. The goose gave a startled screech as it tried to fly away, and Tybalt managed to sink his claws in at the last second. The bird flailed wildly, and he was surprised by how heavy it was. He'd imagined it would be lighter, especially with it being undersized for its kind. It's wings smacked at him with such force that it probably would've knocked him away if he hadn't had a determined grip, and it hurt. He ducked his head as its claws struck his face, and managed to stretch one of his forepaws out to claw at its neck.

With a clumsy hop partially propelled by yet another wing smack from the goose, Tybalt managed to sink his teeth into the bird's neck. He felt it peck him hard between the ears, but he only sank his teeth in deeper and didnt let go until the goose stopped thrashing. His sides heaving, he dropped the bird and gritted his teeth as he felt the full force of its wing strikes deep against his bones. A steady stream of blood was trickling down from above his left eye, and he let himself flop down onto the bank.

He lay there exhausted for a while, and then hauled himself to his paws and took the bird's black feathered neck between his teeth. Grunting with effort, he began to drag it back the way he had come until he finally dropped it just inside the camp entrance. His whole body ached and he felt ready to collapse.



// (couldn't find a straight answer for how much geese actually weigh so imagine its on the smaller side but still big enough to beat him up)

 

[Marigoldpaw]

Marigoldpaw hasn’t seen much of Tybalt lately, be it with his apprentice training on top of spending his spare time practicing any battle moves he’s learned. Even if there’s no need to know how to fight that well quite yet, he still enjoys what he thinks is progress, plus it helps quells his mind. He’s sure Tybalt would be proud of his progress too! He still sees the older cat as somewhat of a father figure to him, even if they don’t interact like they used to.

He certainly wasn’t expecting Tybalt to come back to camp with an entire goose, however. I mean sure, they were certainly starved for food options, but how does that even happen? Needless to say, he’s impressed. “Whoa…nice catch. That’ll feed us for awhile yet.” He nods in appreciation, before he turns into concern. “Did it give you trouble? Just take a moment to breathe.” Finishing off a bird like that, even if it’s smaller than usual, couldn’t have been easy. He definitely wouldn’t be able to do it by himself.​

 

[OAKFANG]

don't try to rush your enemies .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Oakfang blinked, maw hanging open in surprise—a rare sight for the charismatic tom, but to see a goose, perhaps not as big, but no less feat. He nearly laughed, striding up to the exhausted warrior with a curious twitch of his brow. “My! What a splendid catch.” He hummed, tossing a half-crinkled gaze in his apprentice’s direction. Indeed.

The smokey warrior shifted, “Perhaps you’ll enjoy some help carrying it to the fresh-kill pile?” He inquired, gesturing towards the animal with a tap of his claw. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[WILDHEART]

"You look like fox-dung." Wildheart remarked with a wrinkle of his nose as he regarded Stagstrike carefully, taking note of his rough appearance. Geese could be tough creatures and generally required a team of willing warriors to take down, but for a single individual to kill a younger goose alone? Wildheart wanted to call the tom an idiot, but in truth he was in awe. "Get it to the freshkill pile then get yourself cleaned up."
​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Marigoldpaw was the first to approach, asking if the bird had given him trouble. Tybalt offered him a small smile.
“Just a bit,” he answered, pulling himself to his paws and suppressing a pained wince. “I thought it’d make a decent meal.” He gave one of his forepaws a lick and swiped it across his face before leaning down to give his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. He was proud to have caught the thing, he just wished he’d managed to do it a bit more gracefully.

Oakfang offered to help him carry it to the fresh-kill pile, but Tybalt shook his head quickly. “No thanks, I’ve got it,” he said through a mouthful of feathers as he took the bird’s neck in his teeth and started dragging it towards the pile. He glanced at Wildheart through narrowed eyes. Ordinarily the comment on his appearance would’ve earned the younger warrior some vitriol, but Tybalt was too tired to bother.

He dropped the catch unceremoniously atop the pile. The thing had really smacked him around hard. Dumb bird, he thought, twisting his head around to smooth the ruffled fur on his shoulders.