OUR SALVATION \ restocking

Their fresh-kill pile had been in ruins. What hadn’t been eaten had been smashed to pieces beneath hulking bear paws. Granitepelt has found snapped bits of bone all throughout camp, as though the creatures had gnawed to their content and tossed the remnants in any random direction. Some of the more experienced warriors have taken their own patrols out, and he finds himself padding at the heels of his Clanmates through trampled marshland.

He pauses before the messy remains of a rat, chewed to bits and left to rot. Granitepelt lets out a faint hiss of distaste. “Our territory is going to be littered with crowfood,” he says, his tail flinging to and fro like a lion tamer’s whip. “With any luck…

And, yes, a craw pierces the sky, wingshadow falling as a shining black bird dips toward the earth. It picks greedily at a shredded skink.

Granitepelt lowers himself, eyes pinned shrewdly to the creature. With a surge of momentum, he clips forward, snapping the startled crow’s neck in his jaws. A single bite, and it hangs limply from his mouth, wingtips dragging in the dirt. He drops it, spitting feathers. “It’s a start,” he murmurs.

// open; this is an attempt to re-stock the fresh-kill pile!


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  • granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
    — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
    — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
    — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Meg
 
Her body crashes through the undergrowth with a sudden rattling noise, and it occurs to her a moment later that it's a good thing Granitepelt had already made his catch. Clearheart's lessons flip through her head. Those about moving quietly through the foliage and remaining light with each step so as not to startle her prey. Oops, but– her heart still beats a little heavier when she thinks about being alone out here, and her catch had taken her some short few strides away from the hunting patrol. At the time it had been an adrenaline-filled pounce, a rush from the heart. It had scared her only a short moment after. She could smell them nearby beneath the stench of her catch held tightly in her jaws, so that was the way she went. Immediately. Without thought as to what she might ruin. "Clearheart?" Her voice is muffled around her lizard.

Her eyes find them both and Dragonflypaw exhales ridiculous relief as soon as she drops her lizard. Leaves stick out haphazardly through the apprentice's pelt, but she makes a polite enough figure as he lowers her head. "Sorry. For the leaves. Good catch, Granitepelt."
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  • ooc: mentor tag @clearheart
  • dragonflypaw ╱╱ 07 moons ╱╱ she or they ╱╱ apprentice of shadowclan.
    ──── a former loner who joined the clan approximately six months ago (give or take).
    ──── adoptive daughter to honeyjaw, raised by (name tbd). apprenticed to clearheart.
    ──── sexuality unknown. seems uninterested in romance + enjoys competitive friends.

    looking quite strikingly like her adoptive father, dragonflypaw is a brown feline with darkened points of overall average size. their fur is thick and dense, and splotched heavily with white. her eyes are a verdant olive, bordering on golden.
  • "speech"
 
  • Love
Reactions: clearheart
He could exaggerate– sometimes. Were he truly incapable of bringing back a scrap of prey, he thinks Chilledstar would've smacked him upside the head by now. Or Smogmaw– anyone, someone. He has little victories, but they feel few and far between. Prey that is too stupid or too slow to escape even him. None of them feel like anything to be proud of, though.

He's managed to snag a lizard, hardly a bite for a kitten, he thinks. The first time he'd had one, he had been left unsatisfied. Sharppaw could think something dramatic about she was like a lizard, but she wouldn't. For once, the quick was quick and easy and she didn't feel the need to hiss and spit at her prey. He did not feel proud of this catch, but maybe he's on the right track, or something. He can hardly tell what he's supposed to do, but he supposes the "right track" would look like full - bellies and a restocked fresh - kill pile. That's what Rainshade would have said, anyway.

And she would have had a lot more things to say about what Sharppaw has been doing lately, but he tries not to think about that. Sharppaw hums in agreement, looking on to Granitepelt's catch with maybe, probably, some envy. She hated feathers in her mouth, anyways.

An apprentice suddenly bursts forth from the undergrowth, and Sharppaw nearly jumps out of her skin. It's too late for him to stop himself from jumping about a tails - length in the air, and he'd whip an angry look at the apprentice as soon as he is able. Or maybe it was more like a stupid look, knowing him; muzzle scrunched in distaste. He almost asks her why she's apologizing for being messy, rather than likely scaring all the prey in the immediate area. Stupid.

He doesn't, though. Instead, he regains grip on the lizard that loosened in her maw during the scare. Sharppaw would've probably scared everything later even if Dragonflypaw hadn't already. He frowns deeply at nothing.

  • OOC: >:(
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  • SHARPPAW: brother to Rookpaw. Mentored by Smogmaw
    —— he / she , no pref , icked by they prns ; fine with gendered terms ( tom, molly, etc... )
    —— currently 13 moons old. warrior ceremony delayed due to lackluster progress.

    anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharppaw is a creature living in constant fear. Most thoughts are irrational, but consistent in that they are borne from pessimism and generalized anxieties.
    In an era of assessing what has set him back and figuring out what he wants.
 
THERE'S A HOLE IN MY SOUL ( CAN YOU FILL IT ? )
siltcloud | 14 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #905d5d
Siltcloud is silent in er movements, an ever present shadow as she heads up the back of the patrol. Dust hued frame is skeletal and slight as she moves on light paws - ears and eyes kept alert as she tries to sniff out any sign of prey. Granitepelt is lucky enough to make a quick catch out of a carrion bird, the two apprentices only having lizards to show for their efforts and her-? None, at least not yet.

The soft shuffling of movement muffled by the marshland quickly has her on high alert, and as those around her chatter away she moves solidly forwards, one five-toed paw slamming down on her catch before it can escape. Sharp teeth dig into damp flesh as she renders a killing bite to the frog she'd spotted before it can do more than a half-hearted screech, and she blinks at the rest of the patrol, gaze fliting about quickly before returning to the ground.

At this rate, perhaps they won't have to worry too much about prey.

 
mimikyu_by_panicpuppy_ddddc0h-fullview.png

Dustnose, despite being the stuck up bitch she usually was, had joined Granitepelt's hunting patrol. She didn't fancy an empty stomach, and hated seeing kits begging for food from their mothers. It wasn't in her to let them starve, regardless of how stuck up and immoral she was at times.

She sauntered over the ground on light, silent paws. That's another thing she was good at, that most would call bullshit if they ever actually acknowledged her skill and peered past her princess syndrome. White and lilac moved through the brush with little noise as she skirted the patrol's area and tracked down a few lizards.

She brought them back to the agreed upon rendezvous, spotting Granitepelt and the two apprentices, as well as Siltcloud, already having congregated. "I hope you guy's found something more than I did." She set her kills down, cleaning a paw while she waited for a response... or the order to go back to their clean camp.
walk "talk." thought
penned by helly