no angst NOCTURNE OF ICE ❅ hunting

[MAPLETUFT]

Another day brings another hunting patrol, and another crest of the sun means the temperatures dip even lower, much to Mapletufts dismay. At the very least, the only guiding light in this patch of darkness, it hadn't begun to snow... In the midst of this all, she takes a hunting patrol out, her apprentice at her side until they all decide to break. Her luck is horrible, at times, especially so now... For the past few, absolutely dragging minutes, she has not found a single scent trail.

Until now. Faint... Very faint, but still something. Her pace is fast-set as she sniffs at the ground, ears pinned back as she desperately tries to follow the fading trail. There has to be something out here, or perhaps its just delusion alluding to what could easily be mistaken as another scent... At least there is an attempt to be made, even if its borne from pure desperation to find something. And even worse, perhaps the trail never existed at all... She grimaces as it begins to dissipate. Come on!

In her hurry, she loses track of her surroundings. What she doesn't expect is to tread on the remains of what used to be one of the algae-riddled pools that dot the marshland territory, now frozen over in the chilled temperatures. She briefly blinks in shock before she's tumbling straight over, her paws splayed straight out in front of her as her back legs give out as well, sending her sprawling out on her belly. The chill that rushes up her body is no joke as she tries to haul herself back up to her paws on wobbly fawn-like legs, slipping once more. Slight panic begins to kick in, fearing the worst, as she tries once more to haul herself up. This time she's successful, and very, very careful pawsteps finally lead her back to solid ground below.

A sigh of relief tumbles from her mouth as she flexes her paws over the cool marsh below, welcoming this certain chill on her paw-pads rather than the scorching ice before. Then... Reality kicks in, the thought of her clanmates seeing her floundering on the ice sends a jolt of shame through her. Just pretend like no one saw anything... Her face burns in embarrassment as she takes one last glance backwards towards the icy pool, shaking out her pelt as she catches her breath.

𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖬𝖮𝖮𝖭 𝖨𝖲 𝖡𝖨𝖦 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖡𝖱𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 *•.🍁.•* 𝖨𝖳𝖲 𝖠 𝖲𝖴𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖠𝖫 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳

• @LAVENDERPAW | rolled a 15 (no encounter) & an 8 (no trail in the frost)
  
  Spoiler: optional prompt :-)

  As temperatures continue to drop, the resulting frost is no joke. Watch out - the icy ground is slippery!
• ❥ mapletuft ʚ♡ɞ cider
  ❥ cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 53 months
  ❥ shadowclan warrior ʚ♡ɞ mentoring lavenderpaw
  ❥ long-furred chocolate torbie/cinnamon tabby chimera ʚ♡ɞ elegant & flowy
  ❥ "speech, F17E23" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
  ❥ widowed ʚ♡ɞ bisexual
  ❥ smells like spice & cool night air ʚ♡ɞ warm & crisp
  ❥ penned by chuff

 

[plumpaw]

Plumpaw lingers at the edge of the patrol, her fur fluffed up against the cold as she watches Mapletuft skid across the ice with an awkward tumble. The sight almost makes her crack a smile, though she quickly swallows it, keeping her usual guarded expression as she shifts her weight in the snow. When Mapletuft stands again, visibly shaken but unhurt, Plumpaw turns her focus to the nearby undergrowth, trying to pick up on any trace of prey. She lowers herself, gaze darting between the clumps of grass and sparse branches, her nostrils flaring in the hope of picking up something fresh. Her ears twitch, picking up the faintest scurrying sound beneath the frozen foliage, and she tenses, crouching down, one paw lifted slightly to balance her weight. But the ice under her is slick, and as she inches forward, her footing falters. Her back leg slides out from under her, forcing her to slam her paw down to steady herself—and in doing so, she makes a sharp crack echo through the quiet.

The prey bolts, leaving nothing but a flurry of tiny paw prints in the snow and a bitter taste in Plumpaw's mouth. She huffs in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she watches the small animal vanish, knowing there's no hope of catching it now. Every missed opportunity grates on her pride, and each stumble on the ice feels like a reminder of her missing limb, a constant irritant that digs into her confidence with every failed hunt. Glancing toward Mapletuft to ensure the other haven't seen, she takes a few steps away, chest heaving from both the failed chase and her rising frustration. She hates that the ice poses such a challenge, hates that her body won't work the way she wants it to. But there's no giving up. Her jaw clenches, a hard gleam in her eyes as she brushes off the failure and squares her shoulders, mentally preparing to try again. She'll catch something. She'll try again and bring something back for her Clan.

[ rolled a 7 ]​

 

[BLOODWING]

It seemed inevitable that nothing was around. Though Bloodwing's nose was not the strongest, she had faith that, if any frogs were hiding beneath the layers of rime, a clanmate would've easily spotted them even if one of them had taken a tumble upon the ice. She watched as Mapletuft tried to skate and failed miserably, an amused smile and laugh immediately stretching upon her muzzle at the effort. Then, an impulse struck her, and like her mother before her, it drove her forward.

Watching Mapletuft flop like a fish on land looked fun. Trying to conquer the ice looked fun. With that, all thoughts of hunting flew away as fast as the tortie on the slippery plain.

With a quiet 'yippee' to hype herself up, Bloodwing rushed forwards and leapt onto the ice, squaring her paws and keeping her claws firmly tucked away. As she landed, she slid more gracefully than she'd ever done anything else in her life, with a raucous laughter, she arched her head back and enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing through her fur as she skated.

[ rolled an 8 **but** rolled a 20 for dexterity on the ice girlie failing upwards fr ]

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[LIVIDSMOKE]

Lately it had been more difficult to find any prey out here in the marsh, Lividsmoke had been struggling which just meant another sign that leafbare was here. The ground had become colder, frost having started to lay itself across the ground making it difficult to sniff up scent, or find any trails. It was this early on in leafbare and shadowclan were already struggling to find prey. How would they survive through it all when the temperature would sink lower and lower for each passing day.

Who knew for how long they had been out here but Lividsmoke refused to give up just yet, and as they had separated themself from the group to try and find a trail on thier own...just when they had been about to give up and turn tail to return to the rest of the patrol....Lividsmoke find something rare lurking in the lifeless marshland. A hare,a rare find here out of all places, alone as well. It most have get chased or scared and flee inside thier territory and got lost. In truth it didn't really matter how the hare had ended up here. Lividsmoke had finally found some prey and big enough to at least feed the nursery. Failure were not an option.

The warrior crounched down and quickly took cover in the darker part of the marsh so they wouldn't be that easily spotted. Slowly, and with caution they would approach the hare from behind so they wouldn't notice, to see them. It was only when they got closer that they noticed that this hare were hurt, bleeding in fact from one of it's hind legs. That was just perfect, making this hunt that much easier.

When the distance had shortened enough between the two, Lividsmoke would not hesitate to sprint into action, charging straight towards the hare that now had noticed them. The hare tried to get away, to flee but thanks to its injured leg was slow, too slow and Lividsmoke with ease caught up to it, and with a leap lunged for the hare as they attacked thier back, and sank thier teeth right into the hare's neck while pinning it towards the ground. And with that the hunt was over. Lividsmoke had ended it smoothly and quickly, all thanks to some luck.

Lividsmoke still hold the hare's neck as they started to drag the massive prey back to the rest of the ground wondering how the hunt had gone from their part. To think the sight they would end up witnessing would be two warriors playing on the ice rather than hunting....Lividsmoke twitched thier whiskers in disapproval but said nothing. Instead thier gaze started to search for Plumpaw wondering where that apprentice could be. Hopefully she hadn't strolled too far away from the patrol.

// prey roll 14 - prey size - 20
points earned; 3 !!




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[SHARPSHADOW]

As usual, the forest itself seems to be working against them. Maybe the freezing over of the muddy ground would leave some of the more high-maintenance of ShadowClan relieved. She thinks of Swansong first and foremost... Had he been born with a coat like that, hard enough to believe as it was, he might loathe this place even more. It's harder to care when a dark coat like his is dirty, at least. A blessing in disguise, or something, that he didn't have a pretty, pale coat like that.

Unfortunately, in exchange for the lack of muck of on their paws, they can hardly stand on them at all, which is great. He tries not to wince at Mapletuft's stumble... Plumpaw, though empty-pawed, is at least... doing things? Which normally, he wouldn't celebrate. Bloodwing pretty much takes off, though, seemingly unconcerned with hunting altogether. Sharpshadow's grimace is of confusion more than anything else, really. Her blink after the young warrior is slow. Her eyes screw up upon her face.

The barest hint of a rustling amongst the reeds keeps her from having to decide if she should say something or not. Her tail is lifted, the broken half just barely hovering above the ground. Silence falls over the patrol. Sharpshadow doesn't risk a whisper- not yet. Something small and quick like this...

A lizard darts out from the cover it had been assuming. With a rush of misted breath, Sharpshadow hooks it on a claw.

Sharpshadow rejoins the patrol with a skinny tail pinched between his teeth. Surprise shoots his eyes wide at the sight of Lividsmoke's impressive catch. She offers a thin-lipped nod. " ...The kits will like it. " His breath comes out heavy, remembering just how many of them were waiting back at camp...

OOC: rolled a 14 for prey and 5 for size; 1 point!

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[MIRESTAR]

Mapletuft is oftentimes a light at the end of the tunnel for Mirestar — though this time around, it is more literal than figurative. Her pelt is a stark contrast against the backdrop of the territory that is slowly wilting and dwindling due to the frost, and although she is just a couple of tail-lengths in front of them, Mirestar can easily pinpoint their targeted scent trail. So far, they have been unsuccessful in their attempts to bring back anything useful for the Clan; something deeply concerning, as their useless leader. The moment their sensitive nose latches onto warm-blooded prey, Mirestar becomes a hound, eager for their jaws to sink into a heaving flank and even more eager to leave behind recent struggles.

Mapletuft's path diverts, right onto one of the marshes' frozen pools, but Mirestar pushes forward still. They see their Clanmates doing much the same out of the corner of their eyes — some with less success than others, but all with equal amounts of effort put into their task.

A long, brown muzzle stands out amongst the whitening ground. Perhaps it is enjoying the entertainment put on by the hunting patrol, limbs unused to the ice fumbling along the clear surface... or perhaps it is hoping all the ruckus will yield them an advantage by displacing its own prey of insects and other small creatures.

Whatever the case may be, Mirestar does not give it the chance to run. By the time the shrew notices that it's been spotted, it's already too late; Mirestar nearly barrels into a nearby tree with the speed they barrel into the shrew, fangs making quick work of the feeble little body.

"For sure," Mirestar says past the fur in their mouth, nodding to Sharpshadow. Kits, kits... beloved kits; hungry mouths. Then, an amused glance is thrown towards Mapletuft and Plumpaw, with one of their paws tapping on the cold, cold ice. "Giving you trouble?" At least Bloodwing is a natural at skating.

Rolled 11 & 5; 1 point.

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[LEECHWHISTLE]

Leechpaw watches from a distance as the others scramble around, trying to hunt. It feels the familiar ache in its joints, a sharp reminder that today is one of the bad days. The cold gnaws at its bones, making every step feel like it requires more effort than it can give. It wants to help, wants to contribute to the patrol, but its legs aren't cooperating. It watches Mapletuft stumble on the ice, and a pang of sympathy strikes, but Leechpaw quickly pushes it away. It doesn't want pity, doesn't want anyone to notice its own struggles. Its legs wobble slightly as it shifts its weight, trying to find a solid stance, but the ice underfoot makes it hard to keep balance. The ground is unforgiving, and it feels like it might slip any second, but it forces itself to stay steady, to not fall like the others.

Leechpaw is no better than them at this. Its paws are clumsy, uncoordinated on the slick surface, and it can't bring itself to take more than a few shaky steps before its joints protest. Trying to get close to the undergrowth to check for signs of prey feels like too much effort today. Even the faintest movement sends an unpleasant ripple of pain through its hips, and it bites back a hiss. A small rustle near the reeds catches its attention, but by the time Leechpaw tries to move, the prey is long gone. It doesn't even get a chance to chase. Frustration churns in its chest, but it hides it behind a mask of indifference. Leechpaw's hunt is over before it even begins, just like so many others. It can't catch anything today—not because it doesn't want to, but because its body won't allow it.

It stays silent, watching as others return with their catches. They move with ease, with certainty, and Leechpaw feels a quiet resentment building inside. It knows it's not weak, not in heart, but every time it tries, its body betrays it. And it can't even bring itself to ask for help, so it stays on the fringes, hidden in the shadows of the others' success.

[ rolled a 9, no prey :( ]​

 

[jitterbug]

The air bites sharp and cold, pricking at Jitterbug's nose and ears as ey weaves through the brittle reeds. Every pawstep crunches faintly against the frostbitten ground, an unwelcome reminder of how difficult hunting has become. Ey exhales hard through eir nose, the breath misting in front of em before disappearing into the gray haze of the marsh. Ey hunches low, muscles taut with the hope of spotting something—anything—that would make this trip worth it. But the marsh remains obstinately empty, save for the faint scent of old prey trails, long since abandoned. Jitterbug grits eir teeth, eir jaw clenching hard enough to make eir head ache. Even if ey can't find something, ey's determined not to make a fool of emself like Mapletuft did earlier. Ey winces at the memory of her sprawling across the ice, the noise echoing in eir mind like a secondhand embarrassment ey can't shake off.

Suddenly, a rustle to eir left jolts eir attention. Eir heart leaps as ey swivels toward the sound, eir breath catching in eir throat. There—a flicker of movement beneath a patch of frost-coated bramble. Ey springs forward, trying to keep eir movements light and precise, but the frozen ground betrays em. Eir back paw slips on an icy patch hidden under a layer of frost, and ey stumbles, crashing into a clump of reeds. The rustling stops. A blur of brown streaks away from eir outstretched paws, vanishing into the distance before ey even has time to recover. "Fox-dung!" ey snaps, the words cutting through the frosty air, sharp with frustration. A tic escapes em next—a quick jerk of eir neck and a sharp click of eir teeth—before ey shakes eir head to try and clear the frustration building in eir chest.

Ey stands there for a moment, tail lashing, glaring at the empty marsh like it's personally insulted em. "Well, that's just great," ey mutters, the words tumbling out unbidden, half a complaint and half an attempt to distract emself. Another tic forces a small, involuntary hum from eir throat, and ey grits eir teeth again. Dragging eir paws through the frost, ey moves to rejoin the patrol, eir ears flicking back against eir skull. Ey can already see Lividsmoke with that hare, the smug look practically radiating off her even at a distance. Sharpshadow too, with that skinny lizard dangling from her jaws like it's the catch of the season. The sight burns, and ey fights the urge to snap at the next cat who so much as looks at em funny. Jitterbug flexes eir claws into the hard ground, a frustrated hiss escaping em.

[ rolled an 8 ]​

 

[POPPYGLOW]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Poppyglow was indeed, quite grateful for the frostbitten ground in lending them some time gained that would have otherwise been eaten up by cleaning mud out of their snow-and-blood splashed pelt. They were always somewhat perturbed by the more monotonous tasks of everyday living in this way.

She tread lightly and easily across the mire, a skip in their step today as they avoided the wobbliest footholds in favor of a seemingly blessed sense of balance. Stalking around a shrubbed-up patch near a pine, a mysteriously-plump shrew decides (unwisely) to dart out in front of their waiting paws, and within a half-second, a flash of blood coats their mouth and a small meal awaits the hungriest of them back at their abode. The unseen stars were gentle in their disposition today.

Leafbare, like all things of this domain, had a sense of humor as sharp as its dagger-like deadliness. Young Bloodwing and less-so Mapletuft skate their ways into this knowledge, and Poppyglow giggles around their catch.

"It seems our young friend can teach us a lesson or two in fleet-footedness," Poppyglow purrs with the humor of an elder, nevermind the fact that their own tenure placing all four paws in the soil of the marsh could be counted easily in months. They place their shrew beside Mirestar's and fix their wraithlike gaze upon them, "Do you suppose they are kin..?"

PRESENT DAY... ⭑☾༺♰༻☽⭒ ...PRESENT TIME! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• OOC: PREY ROLL: 20 (success!) PREY SIZE: 7 (small)
• 
• 
  — poppykit - poppypaw poppyglow
  — agender they/she. 17mo warrior of shadowclan
  — padding after swansong. friend to all.
  — a small, fluffy white and dark red tabby cat with pale, wraithlike blue eyes and a scar across their face
  — smells like mushrooms, dust, and foggy night air
  — "speech", thoughts, attack, 'poppypaw'
  — penned by eezy

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[mistmoth]

✦ If she could muster up the energy to be morose, Mistmoth might question why she had bothered to join the hunting patrol. Not because it was, like, pointless - the patrols may be struggling to catch prey, but they were catching it still - but because she was a bad luck charm. Even before the weather had embraced its wretched changes and grown even colder, permeating the ground with its frost and freezing ponds, she'd been barely able to catch a scent in the chilled air. The cold stung her nostrils and burned her lungs, an assault that left little sense to hunt with. But here she is. Hunting.

A pale nose leads the rest of the warrior's head first low, then high when nothing comes of it, then tucks against her chest when the cold gets the best of her. There's nothing to find here, which - isn't strictly true, maybe. She can see Lividsmoke and Sharpshadow and Mirestar and Poppyglow ahead, carefully balancing the cold, their prey, and themselves as they hunt across frosted mud. The slick surface looks like it challenges the patrol, bar Bloodwing, and Mistmoth... can't. She can't be unsuccessful and fall over; that's too much, even for her. She mutters something about checking elsewhere and skirts around the hazardous grounds.

//rolled a 12; 0 points​

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[NEWTCHASER]

newtchaser manages to have a dash of luck when it comes to locating prey this time around as she picks up on the recent scent of a lizard among all the frost that layers the terrain. like a snake, she slithers through the marsh with one goal in mind and thats to catch this dang reptile.

there is movement to her left, a shifting of rotten leaves that has the warrior snapping to attention. a–ha! newtchaser immediately crouches low to the ground, pupils slowly transforming into slits as they manage to spot the scales of her prey among fallen pine needles looking none the wiser. perfect. she inches closer and closer, muscles growing tense before leaping in almost an arching movement where claws find purchase in the squirming creature in which she kills with a bite. "guys! look! i caught one!" in the she-cats excitement upon returning to the rest they failed to recognize a patch ice and soon enough newtchaser is lurching forward and into the ground with a thud!

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ REACH OUT FOR THE SUNSHINE -: ✧ :- FORGET ABOUT THE RAIN ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

• ooc. rolled 18 + 7 (small prey, lizard) ! + 1 point then she ate shit on ice
• 
• 
  NEWTCHASERㅤ ✧ eccentric warrior of shadowclan
  ⊹ a long-haired blue smoke with low white and green eyes.
  ⊹ afab, genderfluid, any pronouns | pansexual
  ⊹ 25 moons, ages every 19th | created 10.14.24
  ⊹ npc x npc | sibling to salamandersnap
  ⊹ mentoring n/a | formerly mentored n/a
  ⊹ actions, 'thoughts', "speech"
  ⊹ penned by cobatic | toyhouse | pinterest
  ​

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