- Sep 22, 2023
- 74
- 3
- 8
your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
/ mentions of gore, not graphic, but enough to give you an idea of what happened ! will provide a summary for anyone that's uncomfortable reading
Minor wounds, Fogbound will claim as he ventured after the hunting patrol the ThunderClanners had graciously offered them as they sought refuge in a territory unfamiliar to them. He breathed, annoyed, letting ruby optics scan their surroundings in concealed boredom, letting others assume he was listening for the pitter-patter of prey paws, but no, Fogbound was lost to his mind’s device, thinking of his children who wanted nothing to do with them to his kin that mattered to him more than life itself.
The smokey moor runner wondered why that left a bitter taste, certain if things went south, Fogbound wouldn’t hesitate to grab his family and leave WindClan behind, but perhaps things have changed. He scowled. He didn’t dwell on the ridiculous thought, padding forward until his paws met the remains of ThunderClan prey. The quiet snuffle of a badger some lengths away nuzzling at half-eaten prey, gone was the scent of rogues and replaced with the pungent musky odor that would take days to get out of his fur.
He tensed, shooting a glance at the surrounding few, letting out a quiet rumble when the badger’s beady eyes landed on their patrol, hissing. His tail shot forward, blocking whoever from going further. Lovely. It surged forward, Fogbound meeting it halfway with a low-guttural snarl of his own. “I suggest you use this distraction!” Do not get in my way. He snapped to his accompanying group, ignoring the surge of protectiveness that churned in his gut. It was a surprise to hear the rawness in his voice, gone was the charismatic flare and replaced with thunderous determination.
He was one of the worst assholes out there, but even then, Fogbound couldn’t help that maybe he cared for these fools more than he’d admit. He couldn’t say that for everyone, but he wouldn’t have a reputation if he didn’t despise a few.
He narrowly dodged an incoming swipe, grazing wounds that had healed to latch his teeth into its paw, skidding away at the last second to determine his next move. He was big, but nothing compared to a young adult and he certainly wasn’t at his fullest, battling a badger on weakened limbs. Of course, Fogbound was never one to back down, even when knocking on death’s door.
The Maine Coon shifted, hauling himself away from the hunting patrol, biting and swiping until the badger moved, following the hulking tom with loud hisses. He’d been a tad slower, claws racking down his left eye, blood welling up with the wound, blinding him momentarily to see the next swipe, pulling fur and flesh. He choked back a pained grunt, leaping at its form, claws digging into its skin, drawing a pitched whine, ignoring the bubbling pain that had become a familiarity to him, refusing to buckle beneath it. “Should have done this earlier.” He muttered, teeth-gritting as he flung himself off just in time to see the badger scamper off, laying on his side, breath ragged.
Fogbound grunted, ichor trickling down fresh wounds to saturate the ground when reality hit causing his muzzle to crinkle, left eye throbbing. He grinned, appearing crazed than what he was really feeling, bittersweet at the thought that he lost one of his natural assets.
Ah. He should get up. The moor runner huffed, drawing a pained hiss between clenched teeth at the pull of his freshly attained wounds. Pity. He gathered himself onto massive paws, biting back a grunt at the white-hot agony.
/ fogbound is out on a hunting patrol when he notices half-eaten prey left by rogues, resulting in a badger sniffing around until it notices the hunting patrol, fogbound becomes a focal point, badly wounded and possibly blinded in his left eye and the badger fleeing the scene. supposed to be some development for him, realizing he might like his clanmates more than he lets on, but he wouldn't be caught dead saying it out loud ^^
Minor wounds, Fogbound will claim as he ventured after the hunting patrol the ThunderClanners had graciously offered them as they sought refuge in a territory unfamiliar to them. He breathed, annoyed, letting ruby optics scan their surroundings in concealed boredom, letting others assume he was listening for the pitter-patter of prey paws, but no, Fogbound was lost to his mind’s device, thinking of his children who wanted nothing to do with them to his kin that mattered to him more than life itself.
The smokey moor runner wondered why that left a bitter taste, certain if things went south, Fogbound wouldn’t hesitate to grab his family and leave WindClan behind, but perhaps things have changed. He scowled. He didn’t dwell on the ridiculous thought, padding forward until his paws met the remains of ThunderClan prey. The quiet snuffle of a badger some lengths away nuzzling at half-eaten prey, gone was the scent of rogues and replaced with the pungent musky odor that would take days to get out of his fur.
He tensed, shooting a glance at the surrounding few, letting out a quiet rumble when the badger’s beady eyes landed on their patrol, hissing. His tail shot forward, blocking whoever from going further. Lovely. It surged forward, Fogbound meeting it halfway with a low-guttural snarl of his own. “I suggest you use this distraction!” Do not get in my way. He snapped to his accompanying group, ignoring the surge of protectiveness that churned in his gut. It was a surprise to hear the rawness in his voice, gone was the charismatic flare and replaced with thunderous determination.
He was one of the worst assholes out there, but even then, Fogbound couldn’t help that maybe he cared for these fools more than he’d admit. He couldn’t say that for everyone, but he wouldn’t have a reputation if he didn’t despise a few.
He narrowly dodged an incoming swipe, grazing wounds that had healed to latch his teeth into its paw, skidding away at the last second to determine his next move. He was big, but nothing compared to a young adult and he certainly wasn’t at his fullest, battling a badger on weakened limbs. Of course, Fogbound was never one to back down, even when knocking on death’s door.
The Maine Coon shifted, hauling himself away from the hunting patrol, biting and swiping until the badger moved, following the hulking tom with loud hisses. He’d been a tad slower, claws racking down his left eye, blood welling up with the wound, blinding him momentarily to see the next swipe, pulling fur and flesh. He choked back a pained grunt, leaping at its form, claws digging into its skin, drawing a pitched whine, ignoring the bubbling pain that had become a familiarity to him, refusing to buckle beneath it. “Should have done this earlier.” He muttered, teeth-gritting as he flung himself off just in time to see the badger scamper off, laying on his side, breath ragged.
Fogbound grunted, ichor trickling down fresh wounds to saturate the ground when reality hit causing his muzzle to crinkle, left eye throbbing. He grinned, appearing crazed than what he was really feeling, bittersweet at the thought that he lost one of his natural assets.
Ah. He should get up. The moor runner huffed, drawing a pained hiss between clenched teeth at the pull of his freshly attained wounds. Pity. He gathered himself onto massive paws, biting back a grunt at the white-hot agony.
/ fogbound is out on a hunting patrol when he notices half-eaten prey left by rogues, resulting in a badger sniffing around until it notices the hunting patrol, fogbound becomes a focal point, badly wounded and possibly blinded in his left eye and the badger fleeing the scene. supposed to be some development for him, realizing he might like his clanmates more than he lets on, but he wouldn't be caught dead saying it out loud ^^
thought speech
