no angst IT'S TIME // hunting w/ no encounter

Jul 19, 2024
27
5
3
[ rolled for good health, no encounter, BUT COULDNT FIND PREY </3 ]
[ mentor ping @SEDGEPOUNCE :3 ]

Again. Again. The blizzard buffets at her fur, tousling and knotting it against her will. She's out on the moors, against the wishes of many others, in hopes to gather even just a morsel to bring home to the young and old of their Clan. And again, nothing. Pathetic, she feels, as she looks out towards the rest of the patrol. She hopes for once to see the dangling form of a rabbit from their jaws, even if it sparks new fear into her limbs.

Her claws grip at the wet and uneven ground as she shifts closer to Sedgepounce (or, at least, where she last saw her mentor,) pitching a loud, "Have you found anything yet?" The whipping of the winds are still louder than her, she thinks, but as she speaks Bunnypaw fears that she may just be scaring someone else's catch. She trembles and shakes but waits regardless.​
 
It's so cold. Rowanpaw's short pelt does nothing to shield them from the harsh gales that whip against their body. They have lived through strong windstorms and thunderstorms, but this was different. A constant barrage of icy powder smacked against their red-flecked face, prompting them to pin their ears and keep their eyes down. It would be a miracle if anybody found any prey at this point.

The tunneler apprentice attempts to scent the air, only to inhale some snow particles. Rowanpaw hacks, expelling debris from their airways, and sniffles. Their nose is so frozen; they couldn't even feel it. Should they turn back?

  • prey roll: 8 ( nothing )
    health roll: 1 ( comes down with chills )
  • 84424481_kX2Ce15lb0ln1I1.png
  • 84204730_SermJMxgdgoRfwl.png
    — rowanpaw / twelve moons / they/she pronouns
    — windclan tunneler apprentice / mentored by swiftshade
    snakehiss† x berrysnap / littermate to viperpaw and privetfrost
    — sh black/tortie chimera w/ blue and amber heterochromia, scratches across right eye
    click for tags
 
꙳•❅* He trots along beside the rest of the patrol, ears perked for any sign of prey. The snow is near-blinding, and for a moment he wonders why he's bothered to leave the tunnels during this storm. He could be lounging comfortably in his nest right now, dreaming of… of something better, anything. He could be peacefully meandering through the tunnels, with warm paws and a nose that doesn't feel like icicles are clinging to it. He turns his face into the wind, feeling snowflakes settling on his whiskers, but he can't seem to scent anything on the wind.

"Damn it all," he finally snaps, ears pinning themselves flat against his skull. "This is ridiculous. We're only going to catch our deaths out here; we should turn back." His suggestion won't be a popular one, he assumes, but he doesn't want to keep searching if none of them have managed to track any prey down.

  • ooc: rolled 16 (healthy), 1 (no catch)
  • 53394272_1siaxxi8SpjpePX.png
  • FROSTWIND ❯❯ he/him, tunneler of windclan
    scruffy black and white tom with icy eyes. casual and friendly, but jumpy when threatened.
    son of scorchstreak and badgermoon ; brother to scorchstorm, luckypaw, rumblerain
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    penned by foxlore
 


The ache in his throat had gotten worse since his expedition with Periwinklebreeze. Each new step was a burning the likes of which he had not felt for moons and, more than ever, Sootspot was regretting patrolling above ground. Wanting to be perceived was not worth the toll the blizzard demanded be collected. Yet, he still did not return to the apprentice's empty-pawed.

Within his maws hung a shrew, rudely dug out of its leafbare nest and killed as quickly as chattering fangs could. It was another scornful look he offered as evidence of the other's shortcomings came to light, a desire to tell them all they were doing wrong and the burden they were placing upon him, but the shrew's fur felt as if it had burrowed into the back of his mouth. It was a feeling that grew worse and worse until Sootspot realised what it was... and that he couldn't hold it back anymore.

He dropped his kill onto the snow and keeled over it, coughing and wheezing, feeling a rattle in his throat of phlegm not yet cleared by his best efforts. Each word felt as if claws had been pressed to his throat, he couldn't help but press into them, put the blame on them for his condition. "Harebrains... Harebrains... The lot of you... "

// rolled a +1 point for prey but got whitecough


 
Erminepaw keeps bouncing from foot to foot as he follows this hunting patrol. Is he a great hunter despite only becoming an apprentice this moon? Obviously, why think any less? He's a natural at everything he does, of course! He's Erminepaw the bestest and greatest and fastest and coolest and handsome-est and bestest - did he already say that? - moor runner in all of WindClan!! Is he a tunneler like he'd wanted to be? No. But he can still be cool! He can make being a moor runner soooooo cool! For sure and certain.

But, boy it is cold out here! He'd been excited about the snow before it had fallen, but now he cannot stop the way he trembles with each step despite his high energy. It's mostly an effort to keep the cold at bay, though there's little success in that. Despite his chill, however, Erminepaw is gonna be sooooo useful today! He's going to catch the biggest, fattest rabbit you've ever seen!

"I'm-m-m sure you'll f-fff-ffind someth-thing good, soo-soon!" Erminepaw cheers the patrol on in spite of his chattering teeth and, true to form, motion catches his attention from the corner of his eye and golden gaze zeros in. He isn't... exactly sure what it is, but it looks big - big enough to be a small cat, maybe a tunneler? But what if it's prey? The wind doesn't carry the scent to him so he can't tell for sure, but the vague outline of the ears don't look very cat-like, so he'll take his chances. What are the odds a hunter as inexperienced as he would manage to catch something big?

...the chances are pretty good! With a short sprint through cold, slippery snow, Erminepaw barrels into what he's almost convinced at first is a rock, but no! It's a rabbit! A weird, freaky looking rabbit that doesn't quite look like what he thinks a rabbit should look like. OH!! HE KNOWS! ITS A HARE! Weird that it's a hare. It's almost as big as him!! Still, it tries to put up a fight, and though they have a tiny scuffle, Erminepaw emerges the victor, uninjured and with a fantastic prize.

"S-s-see! No bad l-lll-luck he-here!" He cheers, triumphant.


  • ooc - health: 5, chills!
    prey: 20, size: 19 3 points

  • #9bcfad

  • (img) Erminepaw * he/him * 6 moons
    short furred blue sepia with low white and pale yellow eyes
    Mentored by Featherspine
    Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
    penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots

 

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ Wraithwail couldn't believe just how much the storm had picked up in the recent days, snow-filled clouds billowing overhead like a foreboding painting. The chilled air was already intolerable, and yet she and her clan would be expected to endure much worse should they intend to survive. The only way out was through, and she would look an absolute mess if she made it. The bountiful marigolds she adorned herself with had long since gone brittle from the chill, flaking off with every step she took so that they left a browned, crunching trail in her wake. It made her feel all the more dreary, and ignited her resentment for such unforgiving weather.

She was lucky to have returned to her patrol with a catch, albeit a small one. They would appreciate anything they could get, this she knew well, and so she would not beat herself blue like an apprentice down on their luck. Speaking of, Bunnypaw and Rowanpaw seemed to be prime examples, their heads hanging low as they turned up with hollowed jaws. Wraithwail would dip her head in their direction with a reassuring glint flickering in her dull olive eyes, secretly hoping that her own student had fared much better.

The sound of Sootspot trying and failing with great effort to clear his muddled lungs was alarming, the disease present in his hacking and bodily convulsions apparent. The gangly holly would float towards him on lithe paws, her movements elegant despite the cold gnawing painfully away at her fragile bones. "Are you well, querido? Come, the bitter wind will do naught but harm..." She would gently brush her plumy tail along his back before coaxing him onwards alongside her.
  • rolled 19 for health, 10 for catch and 2 for size. apprentice tag @BERGAMOTPAW. but no pressure to participate <3
  • WRAITHWAIL 🥀 she/her, warrior of windclan, 18 moons.
    tall, longhaired white she-cat with hollow olive eyes.
    mentoring bergamontpaw, mate to none, mentored by n/a, unable to conceive
    peaceful, healing and minor combative powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by sloane@encarcerated on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·: breezepaw peels from the group alongside her mentor, already feeling stiff to the bone from the cold. there's a sheet of white atop the moors, one she struggles to trudge through, struggles to see anything through besides a blinding white. it makes her irritable, tail and ears twitching with each step. she was already tired.

adrenaline spurs her heart to hammer in her chest as a scent floods her senses. breezepaw stills, ears shooting straight up. her tail twitches to alert her mentor of it, on the horizon already looking for cover was a hare. it ducked into a tunnel, the pair dipping low to cut it off until eventually they come out the other end victorious.

breezepaw drags her find proudly, a dribble of crimson staining the snow behind her. it seemed that others had not been so lucky, save for sootspot's shrew and erminepaw's hare. breezepaw deemed her own bigger. perhaps rattleheart herself had placed this catch between her teeth, maybe for once the stars looked upon her favorably.

the apprentice watches with disdain as sootspot sputters all over his catch, inching backwards out of the trajectory. she certainly wouldn't sink her teeth into that one. only distracted from the display by a fuzzy feeling in her ears, breezepaw shakes her head to try and dispel it. "we should go home," she mutters in agreement with frostwind, settling her catch into the snow to rest her jaw.
  • ooc - got frostbite, rolled a 16 for prey & 17 for large size
  • BREEZEPAW SHE/HER, WINDCLAN APPRENTICE, 8 ☾.
    a small, yet leggy longhaired blue point chimera with icy eyes and a long tail.
    rattleheart x venomstrike / / littermate to thistlepaw, bunnypaw, splinterpaw, and crunchypaw.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ battle info
    penned by vayle@vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 




This was cold. By goodness, it was cold, cold cold. Bitterly so, and that snow would keep falling down. He hated it. He kept moving in order to keep himself warm, but his small size and his short hair did not bode well for this weather. He damn near stumbled behind the rest of the group, feeling as though he may fly away. His breath chattered, so he tried to breath deeply to account for that. But the cold air was almost painful.

Bergamotpaw finally managed to catch up with the group, but it was abysmal. It appeared that a couple had things to show, but most, including himself, did not. "I agree on going home, I think it's too dangerous to go out right now," he stated, finally being reasonable for once in his life.

OOC: Rolled 14 for health (whitecough after event), rolled a 1 on prey catching.
 

Bunnypaw's wory voice pings from the depths of the snow, nearly smothered by the wind howling through his ears. It's a constant barrage on every sense—the cold, the loud, piercing sounds, and the stinging snow-flurries lashing at his eyes. His head swivels around to face the smudge of Bunnypaw, a mouse slumped at his paws, bleeding from the neck. He feels like he stumbled into the kill more than anything. Just another hapless creature foolish enough to brave the storm.

"Yep!" he hollers back. The mouse becomes his quickly-cooling passenger as he trudges through the snow. When he finds Bunnypaw, he drags his cheek across the top of her head, tries to preserve some of the fleeting warmth in her bones.

The patrol is disillusioned around them, and the call for home pierces him swiftly. "Carry this, 'kay? We're going back," he mutters through chattering teeth. He drops the mouse for Bunnypaw, then turns toward a different sort of catch entirely—Sootspot, vile and cold and miserable, even more than usual.

"C'mon, man," Sedgepounce grunts. He offers a shoulder to lean on. "You're not dead yet."

// rolled an 18 on health and an 8 for prey size < /3
 
THE CORVIDS ARE CALLING
WARNING THE FOREST A PREDATORS APPROACHING

daisywatcher & 22 moons & feminine & she/they/it & windclan tunneler

Mystic%20Crows%20-%20Deep%20Cyan%20(Large).jpg
Golden-furred figure is stained white with snow - the blizzard coating thick coat in fluff until, for once, she does not stand out amongst the moorland. Her pelt offers a bit more respite then some - a pian, she recalls, in the warmer months, but a saving grace now, as she begrudgingly trudges along. She's certain that, should they actually try, they may have better luck below ground - where while the darkness may blind them, she's sure that they'd be able to at least pick up a scent trail or two. Instead, she squints two-toned gaze with a huff as sootspot speaks, grumbling cheekily right back - " Should'a just stayed in the tunnels, "

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'

A M - I - I N - D A N G E R -- O R - A M - I - T H E - T H R E A T - ?

// 3 (no prey) & 3 (chills) - 0 points
 
Cottonsprig doesn't intend to hunt on this patrol, the blizzard ruffling her fur more than she'd like. She's nearly amazed by the few that do end up dredging up rabbits and mice (even more so discomforted by the fact that she cannot fathom doing so herself; what use will she be in the next season, outside of her medicine stores?)

An uncomfortable rattle in her chest catches her attention before it can be expelled with a cough. Her teeth grit together as she sees her brother tremble and wheeze with likely the same ilk. It makes her stomach roil to think of him stranded out here, but the same discontent sounds in her mind to see him in her den later. She clears her throat as Sedgepounce takes up his side, watching Bunnypaw take ownership of his prey. Dutifully, the she-cat finds her brother's other side and helps drag him home.

  • ooc // rolled 13 for health (whitecough) and a 5 for hunting (nothing)
  • MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
    ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
    ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
    ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
    ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
    ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
    ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
    ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
    ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
    ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?
  • hLNSgig.png
    ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.
 
Mallowtail stalks the snowy landscape as the winter storm batters against her, her coat ruffled in an attempt to retain warmth. She wished to stay close to the other Windclanners but their figures grew blurry in the harsh winds and snow. A faint scent catches her attention as she sniffs the ground and tracks it to a stray rabbit looking for its burrow. Using her light coat and the snowstorm to her advantage, she pounces forth and fangs grip into flesh. Thank you for this kill, the cream sepia prays softly as blood stains her pale jaws.

It's so cold - but I need to do this for our home. A persistent thought as a chill ran up her spine. Her honey brown eyes scan the snowy moorlands around her until she catches sight of her clanmates, quickly padding after them to catch up with them. The last thing she needed was to get lost in the snowstorm that could lead to her getting sick or even worse. "Good job ever-ryone!" Mallowtail praises through chattering teeth, shaking her paws in an attempt to warm them up.

/ 2 points , 13 + 16 and chills