- Feb 20, 2023
- 310
- 78
- 28
❪ TAGS ❫ — // retro to the fox attack + cw for semi-detailed kill
Snakepaw's intent for this particular outing hadn't been to hunt, necessarily, but he could not suppress the urge to track a nearby rabbit when its scent was carried by him on the breeze. His inability to kill one of the moor creatures was, quite frankly, embarrassing. How would Snakepaw ever be a true WindClan warrior if he couldn't do so?
With pricked and alert ears, muscles bunched, and keen sight locked onto his target, the tom instinctively waggled his haunches before launching himself at the rabbit. Claws outstretched, jaws primed to bite, Snakepaw made contact with the rabbit and physically locked himself onto its body. This time... for sure! With adrenaline coursing through his veins, icy like a river in leafbare, he flashed his canines and sank them into warm flesh. Warm, metallic crimson coated his tongue now, mustering all of his strength in order to shove the creature against the ground, steadied and determined as life seeped from its struggling form.
Finally! He knows in his heart that this hadn't been StarClan's doing. No, this had been his victory and his alone. StarClan merely served as witnesses to this thrilling occasion. It'll only get easier from here. Naive to the trials of warriorhood, Snakepaw simply assures himself that his raw intelligence and wit would carry him onward.
The lithe apprentice took the bloodied bundle of fur into his maw. He couldn't wait to boast to his parents about his first rabbit catch! Maybe Shadowsight would finally tell him that he was proud of his accomplishments. If this wouldn't get his father's attention then nothing would — akin to a SkyClanner scaling a pine or a RiverClanner treading the waters alone, scoring one of the most abundant ( yet heftier ) prey of the moorlands practically served as initiation as a WindClanner.
Snakepaw proceeded to trot in the direction of camp, a renewed sense of satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest. Nothing, he truly believed, could stop him now.
Snakepaw's intent for this particular outing hadn't been to hunt, necessarily, but he could not suppress the urge to track a nearby rabbit when its scent was carried by him on the breeze. His inability to kill one of the moor creatures was, quite frankly, embarrassing. How would Snakepaw ever be a true WindClan warrior if he couldn't do so?
With pricked and alert ears, muscles bunched, and keen sight locked onto his target, the tom instinctively waggled his haunches before launching himself at the rabbit. Claws outstretched, jaws primed to bite, Snakepaw made contact with the rabbit and physically locked himself onto its body. This time... for sure! With adrenaline coursing through his veins, icy like a river in leafbare, he flashed his canines and sank them into warm flesh. Warm, metallic crimson coated his tongue now, mustering all of his strength in order to shove the creature against the ground, steadied and determined as life seeped from its struggling form.
Finally! He knows in his heart that this hadn't been StarClan's doing. No, this had been his victory and his alone. StarClan merely served as witnesses to this thrilling occasion. It'll only get easier from here. Naive to the trials of warriorhood, Snakepaw simply assures himself that his raw intelligence and wit would carry him onward.
The lithe apprentice took the bloodied bundle of fur into his maw. He couldn't wait to boast to his parents about his first rabbit catch! Maybe Shadowsight would finally tell him that he was proud of his accomplishments. If this wouldn't get his father's attention then nothing would — akin to a SkyClanner scaling a pine or a RiverClanner treading the waters alone, scoring one of the most abundant ( yet heftier ) prey of the moorlands practically served as initiation as a WindClanner.
Snakepaw proceeded to trot in the direction of camp, a renewed sense of satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest. Nothing, he truly believed, could stop him now.
