private I've got my sights on yew || Fleecefur

[Irispath]

It was quiet at night. It was comfortable, to him. He enjoyed the silence and the darkness, it was easy on his eyes and ears. He didn't have to worry about hawks at night. He could hunt on the surface to his hearts content.

He was no moor runner, but he was still just as quick. Sure, he had to put more effort in, but he adored the feeling of the wind rushing through his fur, taking leaps and bounds over small slopes and embracing the feeling of freedom it brought him.

In fact, in his sprint, he had picked up the scent of a rabbit. He was going too fast to stop, so he was going to have to outrun this rabbit. His feet carried him steadily as he closed in, the rabbit hearing him and bolting for the nearest burrow.

The gap between them was closing, and with claws outstretched he sprung. Claws dug into the rabbit's hide as they tumbled through the grass. They came to a halt just at the border where Yewberry quickly bit into it's neck and secured his kill.

Panting, he looked at the rabbit.

What a rush


@Fleecefur
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[Fleecefur]

"What a lovely little rabbit...did you catch it yourself?" Her voice was a sultry purr as she rose stifly from the tall grass near the border but not quite across it; not yet. The point molly had a pretty face, marred imperfectly by intricately lacing scars over her left eye that did not seem to have clouded her piercing blue gaze despite their barbaric existence there. The rest of her pelt was adorned in similar blemishes, gnarled pink roots embedding themselves in her thick wooly white coat and clinging to her like unwanted burrs; she so despired them but her vanity came second to her ideals. On long black limbs she strode forward, deliberately crossing the moorland marker that struck her with the scent of fresh hare and grass after the rain, her frozen stare locking onto the much smaller tom who looked almost too young to be out here alone based on his size alone. "Would you be willing to share with a poor loner?"
Her steps were heavy for such a sleek and graceful looking creature but there was a weight to each dark paw placed down and a hunch to her shoulders that made clear she may not simply take a no for an answer. Fleecefur could hunt fine when it came to familiar prey, she darted after lizards and frogs with ease and expertise but the more forest-rooted varmints gave her a run for her money and she'd never had a rabbit before; never had the opportunity for one. So why, seeing this easy prey, would she dismiss herself the chance of it?

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[Irispath]

The moment he caught his breath it seemed to catch in his throat. He froze as Fleecefur made herself known and he looked at her with wide amber eyes.

"Y-yeah I just did-" He stuttered.

He kicked himself mentally. There is a ROGUE. On WINDCLAN TERRITORY. Trying to take WINDCLAN PREY. STOP BEING NICE. JUST BECAUSE SHES PRETTY DOESN'T MEAN-

Hold on. He can't think that. She's an enemy, he shouldn't think she's pretty.

Pull yourself together. You are a warrior of Windclan, and Windclan doesn't tolerate trespassers.

He took a breath and rose to his feet. He was too small to stand over the rabbit, it was practically the same size as him, so he stood Infront of it instead.

Furrowing his brows he looked up at her, his fur prickling nervously.

"N-no, you're trespassing on Windclan territory, leave or I'll make you." He said, trying to sound firm.

Unfortunately his voice was shaky, and his face just wasn't quite built to have an angry, intimidating expression.

But he tried his best, even if he knew things were going to go south. It took everything he had not to start trembling.

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[Fleecefur]

Perhaps not quite the pushover, but it didn't matter when she had the size advantage and he was practically trembling like a newborn kit left unattended beneath the shadow of a hawk. The point she-cat gave a wry smile, continued circling him even as he did his base to remain facing her and guarding his rabbit. With a haughty laugh she made her move, "You could've made this easy." A spring forward sent her propelling at the tiny lilac tom, barreling him over easily where her claws and her teeth set to shredding whatever bit of fur and flesh she could get a hold of. Killing him would lead to her being chased, she knew that much, so she opted to pummel him as viciously as she could before a voice rose up; a patrol spotting her and moving in.
Knowing she had no time left, the scarred female bent down to take the rabbit that had been left discarded under him upon her beating and bolt for the treeline and as far from the moors as she could.

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