[ catching whitecough, forced encounter, catches something but its stolen </3 ]
[ tagged apprentices: @heatherpaw. @bramblepaw - @SHEEPPAW @Puddlepaw. @THISTLEPAW ! @SPLINTERPAW.
if u have an apprentice and u want them here, feel free to join! ]
Bunnypaw has had enough. The cold swells in their unprotected camp, forcing many of them into the old homes of badgers and hares for protection. Cats brave the new white landscape in order to find scraps of prey and moss, and so many of them (her included) come back empty pawed. She always returns... empty pawed. There's a sliver of self hatred that spurs her, her teeth gnashing like they never should, her broad shoulders pushing away from her siblings and towards the mouth of the cave they reside in. They are WindClan apprentices; they sleep beneath the stars, they brave any weather. They cannot allow this to trample them flat. They cannot allow this blizzard to rend them from their duty when they are fully capable.
They are strong. That's what she rallies, to her fellow apprentices who listen. Tears prick her eyes and something akin to fear swells in her chest - there's a whisper in the wind, a pressure to please, don't. Bunnypaw does not listen.
She... is strong. She can be. She will be.
Beneath the cover of a windswept afternoon, she guides her patrol of apprentices out of camp, pressing them out of the gorse walls before a warrior can catch them. They trudge through snow and more, scenting the air, holding to one another's sides to recapture warmth. Bunnypaw is one of the first to catch scent of something, despite the snowy scape they trot through. And for once - for once - she makes it. A morsel of a thing, a little mouse unable to hide in the paleness of the snow... but she catches it!
And short lived is her victory. As she stands to show off what could feed maybe two kittens, something orange and black barrels into her. Sudden against the snow, the fox cares not how it thrusts her aside - only that she drops her mouse and its free for the taking. The fox scoops up the mouse and it is gone in no more than a few breaths, all before the beast looks at the patrol once more, prowling ever closer to them.
Bunnypaw looks back with fear. Fear, and rage - and she barrels towards the beast once again.
[ tagged apprentices: @heatherpaw. @bramblepaw - @SHEEPPAW @Puddlepaw. @THISTLEPAW ! @SPLINTERPAW.
if u have an apprentice and u want them here, feel free to join! ]
Bunnypaw has had enough. The cold swells in their unprotected camp, forcing many of them into the old homes of badgers and hares for protection. Cats brave the new white landscape in order to find scraps of prey and moss, and so many of them (her included) come back empty pawed. She always returns... empty pawed. There's a sliver of self hatred that spurs her, her teeth gnashing like they never should, her broad shoulders pushing away from her siblings and towards the mouth of the cave they reside in. They are WindClan apprentices; they sleep beneath the stars, they brave any weather. They cannot allow this to trample them flat. They cannot allow this blizzard to rend them from their duty when they are fully capable.
They are strong. That's what she rallies, to her fellow apprentices who listen. Tears prick her eyes and something akin to fear swells in her chest - there's a whisper in the wind, a pressure to please, don't. Bunnypaw does not listen.
She... is strong. She can be. She will be.
Beneath the cover of a windswept afternoon, she guides her patrol of apprentices out of camp, pressing them out of the gorse walls before a warrior can catch them. They trudge through snow and more, scenting the air, holding to one another's sides to recapture warmth. Bunnypaw is one of the first to catch scent of something, despite the snowy scape they trot through. And for once - for once - she makes it. A morsel of a thing, a little mouse unable to hide in the paleness of the snow... but she catches it!
And short lived is her victory. As she stands to show off what could feed maybe two kittens, something orange and black barrels into her. Sudden against the snow, the fox cares not how it thrusts her aside - only that she drops her mouse and its free for the taking. The fox scoops up the mouse and it is gone in no more than a few breaths, all before the beast looks at the patrol once more, prowling ever closer to them.
Bunnypaw looks back with fear. Fear, and rage - and she barrels towards the beast once again.