IN THE DAY WE'RE SUFFOCATING — hunting patrol

[PITCHSTAR]

snow crunches underfoot as pitchstar leads his patrol through the wasteland of the swamp. they have not found a fuckin' trace of prey anywhere. all that he could smell was snow, snow, snow. he hates snow, and he hates this stupid marsh for becoming so barren during the cold moons. he hates starclan for telling them they had to split the forest territory and settle for this stupid swamp while the other four clans are blessed with plentiful forests and bountiful moors. he hates rain for even thinking to settle in the forest and take away the marsh colony's prey in the first place. he hates all of the stray kittens taking away food from his clanmates' mouths. he hates himself for allowing them to.

he hates everything, and he wants to scream it to the stars.

the rosette tabby gives a frustrated growl as yet another trail turns out to be a dead end. "fuck's sake!" pitchstar curses, his tail lashing. "i don't know why we even came out; all we're gonna accomplish is freezin' our tails off with no prey to show for it!" as if to prove his point, the leader kicks up a cloud of snow, watching as it scatters across the ground with a curled lip.

@GRANITEPAW @GECKOSCREECH @SMOGMAW @Shimmerpaw​

 

[Shimmerpaw]

SAM SHIMMERPAW - SHADOWCLAN - TOM - SINGLE - HOMOSEXUAL​

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Things have grown tense in Shadowclan, and Shimmerpaw has been feeling it for weeks now. At first hte snow had been fun and innocent enough, but as Smogmaw and so many others had warned him, it was far from harmless. No longer enamoroured by the glistening snowflakes, he found that he would trade all the snowball fights in the world for a day of proper hunting. And from the looks of it, the other cats were thinking something similar. They were all as lean and hungry as he was, after all.

He didn't dare to speak at Pitchstars outburst, ears twitching backwards nervously as he dropped his gaze to look anywhere else but the irritated tomcat as they kicked at the snow. Normally he would try to offer some cheerful optimisim, but even Shimmerpaw could see that now wasn't the time. Pitchstar was right- they were hanging on by a thread and there was a more likely chance of them catching a cold outr here than a piece of prey at this point.

Still, there were cats to feed, and they had to at least try.

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-- A SMALL, SLEEK CREAM TABBY WITH SKY BLUE EYES. HE HAS HIGH WHITE MARKINGS WITH CREAM COLORED SPOTS AND SPECKLES ON THEM

 

[GRANITEPELT]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Granitepaw follows Pitchstar with a dour expression. Despite the gnawing hunger in his belly and the cold wind whipping through his short gray and white fur, he feels lighter than he has in moons, since Spark-kit's death, possibly. Bonejaw is gone, after all; Starlingheart is their medicine cat.

StarClan, in a strange move of benevolence, have made his world a little less dark, and he feels it in each pawstep.

The gray tom watches Pitchstar kick up snow, watches him curse the swamps, with a neutral expression. He turns to Shimmerpaw, seeing how anxious the golden tomcat looks, and he flicks his tail tip against the other's flank. "We'll find something," he growls. "We're ShadowClan. We won't starve while other Clans full of weaklings grow fat. We'll find a way." A rare display of optimism.

- ,,​

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