ONE-WAY STREET ♡ UNLUCKY HUNT

[MIRESTAR]

An ominous whistle between the quickly balding branches accompanies Mirestar's hunting patrol. It is a hastily put together one; even though Lilacfur had followed Sharpshadow's earlier example and decided on assignments due to the lack of a deputy, the ever-building pile of worries has not allowed Mirestar to sit idly. Regardless of the amount of success (or lack thereof) Flintwish and Swansong had found, the fresh-kill pile would need further stocking. Ashenfall has already brought forth kittens... and Mirestar's own family will be expanding. Hungry bellies will always outnumber prey in the marsh. There is no time to waste.

Mirestar leads their companions through the territory — it is considerably less wet than usual, thanks to the cold that seeps into the land and slowly but surely dries up the moisture and freezes the surface of waters.

And just when they think they found a good spot for hunting...

"Wait."

A bushy tail rises, signaling to the cats behind them in more ways than just verbal. Mirestar themself freezes; only the tips of their whiskers twitch, and their pupils withdraw into mere slits. An otter stands in their way... solitary, now that leaf-bare is all but here, and its sleek frame never comes to a halt as it sniffs about, no doubt looking for frogs and snails to eat. It is decisively in the way.

Mirestar lowers their body to the ground, ignoring the cold that cuts through them by extension of their belly fur brushing the soil. The competition's smell threatens to overpower their senses; no matter how much they try to catch the whiff of prey, that musk makes it impossible — or maybe there is no prey to be found here. "Frog-dung!" Either way, the otter does not seem to appreciate this contest for survival, and it rounds on the patrol with its tiny eyes blazing with fury.

Like a now-blossoming flower, the fur along Mirestar's spine rises, starting at the base of their tail and running all the way to the back of their neck. "Keep looking for prey. I'll try to be a distraction..." Even if Mirestar is known for their skilled nose, they are more than willing to lend the opportunity to find a scent trail or two to their Clanmates.

Rolled 3 & 6; failure.
A predator is competing with the cats for prey; Mirestar cannot find a scent trail, but maybe your cat can still succeed!

​

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] With this early frost, Snowlark couldn't help but concern over how leaf-bare was going to be like, especially if the difficulties are beginning to show up now. He already volunteered to join in on this match-up of a hunting patrol, feeling his skills and pale fur would be helpful in the long run of the frosted marsh land, keeping himself close in tail after his mentor. With Ashenfall's kits to that of more upcoming kits, it was best they began to get as many of these patrols out and do whatever it took to give them an edge in thos upcoming leaf-bare.

That is, if the competition didn't think of the same thing. The musky scent of the otter blasted Snowlark's nose before he even got a good loom at it, Mirestar already quick to put them all at a halt while the beady gaze of the creature was on them, and it would seem even their great leader couldn't pick up anything, that is until the young warrior was able to discern a scent of bird from that of the otter's musk. Mirestar already putting themselves in a line of danger which a flash of concern danced in the tom's yellow eyes. "Mirestar..." the boy slowly started, 'be safe' written on his face before he rushed off into the direction of which the scent had been.

It wouldn't be long before a loud screech of a bird echoed throughout the terrain before silence cut through the air and Snowlark returned with a large sized bird, hackles raised while his ears flatten across his skull dropping it where he stood while his attention went back to the otter. He would not allow Mirestar to be left alone not even for a second, fear that they could lose a life here and now.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── Where I am going is right where I am ──┐‎

• "speak""Thoughts"
• 
  Snowlark ❄ He/Him, warrior of Shadowclan, 14 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.

​

Rolled a 15 & a 17!! ))

 

[Gigglepaw]

If there was one thing that Forestshade had instilled in Gigglepaw during her time training the girl, it was a good sense of tracking, and one that came in handy now that the frost had crept in while everyone had been unawares. After learning that it wasn't supposed to get so cold so early, Gigglepaw had been duty-bound to help out in any way that she could. Going with Mirestar on a hunting patrol was just the beginning of it, and her eyes lit up when she caught a bird's scent.

Creeping past the otter that had intercepted the patrol was easy with Mirestar keeping its attention, and Gigglepaw was able to pounce on the bird without it noticing, nipping it in the bud with a killing bite before slithering her way back to the rest of the patrol. Snowlark had managed to get an even bigger bird, which set Gigglepaw off with a smile.

"We're doin' pretty good, huh?" Gigglepaw chirped quietly, dropping her bird next to Snowlark's. There was still the threat of the otter, and Gigglepaw stayed by the young warrior's side as they faced off against it. She'd never seen something like this before, so slender and long, and she gaped slightly at the sight of the predator that Mirestar was so daringly drawing the attention of.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ! rolled a 15 prey + a 7 prey size

• 

• GIGGLEPAW ✩ apprentice of shadowclan, eight moons
  → blinks incessantly & uncontrollably.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.

​

 

[AGATEPAW.]

Mismatched eyes were wide as she spotted the otter, and Agatepaw took in a shuddering breath. Mirestar had taken on the role of a distraction, so she had to make it count. She took in a deep breath, and began to track.

A bird, just like Gigglepaw and Snowlark, was what she found. She stalked, ever careful and conscious of her movements. Useful, she had to be useful, no matter what. If anything happened to Mirestar, or the rest of the patrol and she failed to catch this, Agatepaw would never be able to forgive herself. A failure. A complete failure.

The cinnamon and black she-cat shook off the negative thoughts, taking a breath as she pounced. Thankfully, the bird did not take off before she could swiftly kill it with a bite, not unlike her fellow apprentice. It was a pretty big bird too! She purred softly, picking it up and trotting back to the pile where Gigglepaw and Snowlark's catches laid. "I did good, right?" she asked, before green and gold landed on her leader and the otter they were so bravely facing. "We've got this," Agatepaw breathed, though she could not deny that her legs were trembling just a tad. But leaf-bare was a battle, and she, and ShadowClan as a whole, would not go down without a fight. This was just one part of it.

// rolled an 18 and a 17! Big Birb.​

"Speech"​

---

STEP FROM THE DARK TO THE LIGHT​

​

 

[BATCHASER]

With the early frost draping itself over the marshland makes him shiver uncomfortably. He dislikes the cold winter, especially with the difficulties of finding prey. He had volunteered to be on a hunting patrol with Mirestar and a few others. With the nursery booming with new kits and such, might as well begin to work his back with the upcoming leaf-bare by hunting. A favorite pass time, truly. He freezes, his whiskers twitch as his pupils withdraw to silts at the musky scent of otter flowing to his nostrils. His whiplike tail lashes as the curly phantom lets a grimace show upon his split - colored maw. Mirestar already putting themselves in the line of danger, and he flicked an ear towards Snowlark's voice.

Creeping past the distracted otter and the puffed - up form of Shadowclan's leader, keeping its attention solely on them. Batchaser is able to scent a bird near and quickly pounces on it while its beak lets out a panicked screech. Nipping the loud creature with a killing bite, he languidly slithers back to the rest of the patrol. Dropping the bird where a growing pile laid with Snowlark's and Gigglepaw's. "Hm, more birds." He hums, as he turns his head to the chimera leader and the otter they were bravely facing with brows furrowing.

𓂃 𝅄᠂ ⭒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ☽ 𝙃𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙋 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙎

• ooc. rolled a 16 (success) & 19 (large bird)
  POINTS: 3

• temp batchaser ref.

  

• ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ― CISMALE ; HE / HIM ; CURRENTLY 36 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking — mentoring none.
  ✦ a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
  ✦ thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

​

 

[jitterbug]

Jitterbug twitches with each step, eir neck jerking slightly in reaction to the cold that bites through the ground beneath eir paws. The damp marshland is freezing over in parts, crisp and dangerous, but Jitterbug grins despite eir shivers. This patrol with Mirestar might be chilly, but it gives em the chance to help out, maybe catch something big enough to keep the Clan going through the start of leaf-bare. Ey glances towards the otter as Mirestar's tail shoots up, signaling everyone to halt. Jitterbug's own nose twitches with the musk, sharp and heavy against the usual mix of ShadowClan scents. "Distraction, distraction," ey mutters, almost under eir breath, words echoing Mirestar's instructions as ey settle lower to the ground. The otter looks agitated and jittery, glancing about with its small, dark eyes. It won't take much to provoke it, and Jitterbug silently admires Mirestar's willingness to draw its attention.

Taking the chance to creep away from the otter's line of sight, ey slinks sideways, moving as quietly as the ice-crusted ground allows. Eir focus narrows in on finding prey, catching snippets of scent drifting through the chilly air. After a few more cautious steps, ey catches the unmistakable smell of a squirrel, slightly masked by the cold, but still potent enough to make Jitterbug's stomach rumble. Ey tenses, freezing in place as eir eyes lock onto the small shape scrambling across a fallen branch. It's quick, but Jitterbug's quicker. With a jerk of eir neck and a grimace that comes with the rush of adrenaline, ey crouches, then springs forward. Teeth clicking together as ey leaps, ey swipes down hard and pins the squirrel under eir claws before delivering a swift, clean bite to the back of its neck.

Jitterbug chirps as ey carefully grabs it between eir jaws, unable to resist a small triumphant hum as ey holds the prey in eir mouth. It's a decent catch, weighty enough to fill a hungry stomach for the night. Moving cautiously to avoid dropping it, Jitterbug trots back toward where Gigglepaw and Snowlark have already gathered. "Got something 's'well," ey mutters through the fur of eir catch, blinking rapidly as ey glances from the prey back to the patrol and then Mirestar's confrontation with the otter. Eir ears twitch at the murmurs from the apprentices, sensing the apprehension in Agatepaw's voice and the tension in Snowlark's stance. Ey drops the prey down with the other pieces of prey, turning to face the confrontation fully in case ey will need to help fight the predator.

Jitterbug clicks eir teeth once, feeling a familiar prick of nerves. "It's—fine. It'll be fine," ey mumbles to emself with a nod. Eir eyes rest steadily Mirestar, noting the strong stance as the leader draws the otter's attention away from the pile of prey they've managed to gather. There's a nervous twitch at the corner of eir mouth, but ey shakes it off, eir humming breaking into a low, steady rhythm as ey focus on the calm bravery the leader radiates. Ey doesn't quite step closer yet, not wanting to risk provoking the otter.

[ rolled a 16 and 13 so they get to keep their prey :3 ]​

 

[mistmoth]

✦ Relief had washed over Mistmoth at not being assigned to a patrol under Lilacfur's scrutiny, and as it receded it left guilt in its wake. Things needed to be done, and she - she knew that. But the cold, for all it did to incite urgency to the clan's usual activities, made it hard to want to do anything. Harder than usual. If they didn't have enough nest materials, the tortoiseshell could withstand sleeping on the compact earth; if prey ran low, her appetite was often scarcer anyway. The only thing keeping her paws moving was the impact the frost had on everyone else.

(It helped that her sibling had organised this patrol. It was easier to do things for Mirestar than herself.)

She halts with the rest of the group, fur magnetised to fear and drifting upwards at the otter's fury. Of course there's something to challenge their hunt. It doesn't seem to bother the group - Mirestar being unfortunate exception - but it instills a weariness in Mistmoth. If luck is as finite as prey in this chill, it will run out for her. She watches the apprentices and warriors bring successful hunt after successful hunt to the growing pile, the otter barely moving from Mirestar's and Snowlark's attention. Gigglepaw's chirp, Agatepaw's quiet assurance, and Jitterbug's mumble under eir breath soothes the tortoishell into a hunting crouch. Maybe she could make it, too.

The only prey she can spot is a frog near the otter. Which - it isn't ideal. She knows that. But the otter has hardly so much as chittered since the hunting party arrived, so she creeps toward it, fur whispering over frost-covered grounds. An exhale steadies her, but the otter's sudden lunge seconds her off-kilter, paws scrambling beneath her. "No, no no," Mistmoth whines, ears folding close to her skull, a safe distance once again between her and the threat. She knew it, she knew it, why did she try? "That - uh, that was a bad call. Sorry."

//rolled a 13; no points​

​

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

Despite the cold settled against his form, an awareness made toward empty patches of fur where scars now lie instead, Screechstorm thinks the hunting patrol is going rather smoothly. Sure, nobody's found anything yet, but he's sure someone will, right...?

Or... Someone will find them first.

The warrior's paws still at the leader's call, mismatched eyes round and his heart pounding. He fears the worst, fears a feathered form swooping downward, fears talons at his sides once more. His gaze casts itself upward first, and when he finds the sky clear, his line of sight returns to Mirestar and then further past them.

An otter. Screechstorm doesn't think he's ever seen one up close, but he knows it's competition now. Something to snag what prey his clanmates can find, something that could potentially snag his clanmates. The tom tries to heed his leader's orders, but his heart is pounding, and he finds himself struggling to catch scent of anything else, now that he knows the otter is up ahead.

" Let me help, " he finds himself blurting out in hushed tones, giving up on the chance to hunt before he can even realize he's done so. It's the least he can do: help out, be a means of distraction. After everything, it's the least he can do.

// rolled a 4 AGAIN +0 points