MERCURY ✧ intro, frog hunting

hawthorncry

samira, theme week ✦
Apr 29, 2024
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These little buggers are everywhere, aren't they? Stars, you couldn't even walk a few feet without nearly stepping on frog spawn or the adults that come with it... Good hunting for newleaf, at least; it's a welcome change compared to the past few changes of seasons. She's glad she had stayed put in the marshes where her and Juniper told each other they'd grow old in, but sometimes it was hard not to momentarily regret it when Riverclan showed up to the gatherings sleek and well-fed, or the other clans boasting about good hunting...

Theres movement in front of her, and as distracted as she is with her thoughts... She pounces, wavy fur bouncing in the sudden spring forth, and she lands on the stupid frog with a crunch. She's quick to put it out of her misery, raising her head to speak to the nearest patrol member. "I'd be a little concerned if even an apprentice couldn't catch anything." she jests, a good-natured tone in her voice. Things are looking up for Shadowclan these days, is it inevitable that it'll all eventually crash? "When'd'ya think this'll be over? Or maybe its a prophecy," she hums, she's no medicine cat but it doesn't take one of those to note that this could very well be a curse. "Shadowclan will one day drown in frogs... How about that?" she flicks her tail, eyes drawn up by the movement along the tree-line from hopping frogs to and fro.

She's going to get tired of eating these things.

  • 81270542_DEiOWs3YmdjAa3Z.png
    hawthorn, hawthorncry
    cisgender female ,, she/her ,, 40 moons
    warrior of shadowclan ,, former marsh-grouper
    pretty black/chocolate chimera w/ low white & orange eyes
    "speech, #b54055" ,, thoughts
    bisexual ,, single
    smells like raspberries & cherry trees
    art by LICHPRINCE ,, penned by chuff
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Having been born during the harsh times of Shadowclan when prey had been much tougher to catch only to come up with this. He felt a bit more grateful for it everyday, more and more stacked in their fresh-kill pile that they hardly need to catch anymore but, with the worry of how bad next leaf-bare would be, there was nothing wrong with being a little....greedy he supppsed.

Yellow eyes flicked Hawthorncry who began to make a jest of the whole matter before pausing a bit to think of what he could say in response. "Maybe starclan is just being kind and giving us enough so we aren't starving" he expressed calmly, after all they suffer through? Surely they did it because they felt bad. Eyes scanning in front of him before pouncing on a near-by frog killing swiftly while another hopped on by giving Snowpaw two for one this hunting patrol...nice.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 8 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

Ferndance couldn't recall a time when hunting had been so... easy within her clan, once more she found herself with more weight than usual though this time, it was not due to any kittens. She'd relish the comfort of a full belly and food that practically lept into her paws as best she could, nature dictated it wouldn't last, but today, nature could go choke on a squirrel. Smiling behind a frog dangling from her mouth, the cinnamon tabby's jaws was sodden with saliva at the urge to take another nibble out of her newest kill. She resisted as best as she could, though, she doubted the clan could blame her if a few little bits of leg were missing. Her eyes widened when they settled upon Hawthorncry, her listening abilities taken up by other thoughts circling her head like a tempest. Apprentices... prophecy... drowning frogs?! Hadn't she discussed the very same thing Haretooth mere days ago? She tilted her head one way and then the other. Eventually, she found her neck muscles again and straightened up, a wild look flashing in her gaze at the same time. "Oh, it is absolutely a prophecy. We're all gonna die! Hehe...." A lash of her tail, followed by a monotone "I'm just kidding."

 

Tell that to his former brother Basilpaw who still had miraculously still not captured anything yet. Not even his first prey. A part of him wished that smoke-pelted apprentice was here to hear it. Maybe it would have been good for them instead of always being praised for doing nothing at all to be productive to the clan.

Lividpaw rejoined the group with three frogs in his mouth as he carried them by their feets so he had more room inside his mouth to carry all of them back to camp. This was already his second time out today and he was sure to go out at least one more time if not his mentor had anything else to say about it.

" We should be grateful while it last." Lividpaw joined into the conversation after putting his three frogs down in front of his paws. This wouldn't last forever. He was certain about it. So he had every intention to hunt down as many of them as possible before the end of it. Especially in a season like this there newborn kits were doomned to happen. For some reason the warriors always find themselves mates a lot more often around this time. That was what the elders gossiped about anyway which was quite difficult for him to block out when he was doing his chores around them.





 

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆  Hawthorncry's idea of a prophecy is amusing, if growing a little too plausible. Swansong's mind drifts... What message would the stars send, if they were to speak? To guide them through these uncertain times, give the few words to make sense of their fickle gifts. She imagines their voices, swirling in her head, imagines that half-dreaming state where she can almost grasp the sound of it. Something esoteric, near-indecipherable...

The words do not come to the molly's mind.

They blink away the stupor sluggishly rejoining the living cats rather than letting themself wander into thoughts of the dead. Her entry to the conversation is hesitant, soft. "Drowned by frogs, quite an ironic fate..." A wry smile twists across her maw, small and amused. "I never dreamed ShadowClan would face it's demise with full bellies," they note airily. All the prey they could wish for... Perhaps they had grown too bold in their wanting.

But oh, it seems young Snowpaw does not think the same. Their gaze is soft, assessing, as they turn to him. How they wish for that naivete, that trust in their ancestors. Of course they would follow the starry-pelted cats to the ends of the earth, obey their every instruction... But they are too close to the veil of death to think the stars' judgement anything so simple as kind. "It is good to have hope, but..." She trails off for a moment, gaze distant. "StarClan gives just as easily as it takes away. We mustn't forget that..." Getting comfortable is dangerous. Lividpaw has the right idea; enjoy it while it lasts, prepare for its end. All things must end, and this bounty is no different.


  • 81294824_mjXd5ejx6RrZPyn.png
  • SWANSONG ⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊⋆ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, thirteen moons.
    a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with droopy blue eyes.
    dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
    halfshade x smogmaw, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
 


Conversation stirs somewhere in the hunting patrol's ranks, prompting black-tipped ears to prick toward it, and a grin upon the deputy's face after processing it. Yeah, he can't say he disagrees with Hawthorncry and her assessment. Smogmaw's first outing alongside his apprentice Bloodpaw saw the latter unsheath her hunting claws for the first time, and with no prior training to speak of. Seeing how the swamp is a veritable haven for its warty inhabitants these days, all a warrior or apprentice really needs to do for a sufficient hunt is stuffing their face in the mud and hoping for the best.

A prophecy, though. The notion remains a stranger to the deputy's thoughts. There's a glaring dearth of factors which may suggest divine involvement in their current prospects. Not a soul in the clan has reported any irregular dream visits featuring deceased relatives or forefathers, and aside from that one time the moon willed itself to swallow the sun, he cannot recall any other ominous portents befalling the clans lately. StarClan and its capricious whims rarely spring to mind when seeking to explain phenomena in the waking world, especially if there's a sounder alternative to hold precedence.

It had rained a lot. The swamp flooded. The frogs thrived, and they decided to keep thriving. Mosquitoes and blackflies do the same in the short wake of rainy weather. There is no supernatural imperative to ascribe blame, and no precedent for it either. "Perhaps the frogs have a StarClan of their own, and it listened to their prayers for good weather," he meows dryly, before huffing at the idea. Fat load of good it'd be to have a celestial, all-knowing, all-powerful, all-righteous body that actually has its subordinates' benefit in mind. He has not yet caught a frog himself, which grants him the power to speak with a free maw. No matter; he'll have pried four from swamp pools by the time they return to camp.