PENTAGRAMS IN THE NIGHT SKY ☽。⋆ windclan territory hunting patrol

Sep 19, 2024
76
9
8
"let's get this over with...." She mutters as they cross into windclan territory. With Mirestar giving them permission to cross into other clans' territories for food. As much as she hated breaking the warrior code, if the leader was giving them permission surely it was okay for survival right? They wouldn't be the only clan trespassing for food. Shadowclan comes first.... The darkness of the night was the best time to strike, leaving them with a better opportunity to make it in and out without being seen. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure the patrol had made it across the thunderpath safely, she allows them to voice any opinions they may have.
  • ooc: anyone is welcomed!! this patrol takes place on windClan territory! roll results - 14: no encounter ; 6: no prey trail found (@FERNDANCE / @Snowlark. / @plumpaw)
  • 90108085_UMTjJ0IbSLQRnyW.png
    ✶ salamandersnap. warrior of shadowclan ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆。𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
    ㅤafab female, she/her | bisexual, single
    ㅤ25 moons old | ages every 00/19/00
    ㅤwarrior | mentoring stonepaw
    ㅤlong-haired black smoke
    ㅤnpc xx npc | close with none
    ㅤwritten by halimede, ic opinions | tags
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Frost crunched underneath the young lead warrior's paws gaze landing on the older warriors with a cool look in his gaze as a soft breath of a sigh slip from his maw, the scent of moor hitting his nose, Salamandersnap alteady telling them to make it quick and he nodded calmly. "Leave no trace if you can, we do not need Windclan finding out" he instructed the others flicking his ear slightly before catching a wiff of something, head swinging towards the direction of what it was before slinking off.

It wasn't long before he found a nice sized hare snacking on some frosted blades of grass, and he quickly dropped into a hunters crouch, light on his paws before giving chase, the rabbit hadn't a moment to realize until it was too late, he was swift to end the creatures life, looking back to the group with a soft huff as he fluffed out his fur. He will take what he can get for this clan, and as long as they were in and out without being caught there was nothing to worry about, and besides-Windclan had been the first to tred on their grounds, they were just returning the favor.
  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowlark He/Him, Lead warrior of Shadowclan, 15 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 20 and a 20! +3 points <3 ))
 

Sanctioned codebreaking wasn't exactly fun, but necessary, and all too eagerly the cinnamon tabby delved into the frosted moors. She offered a tame nod towards Salamandersnap and moved away to do her own thing. "Let them find out..." she mewed quietly towards Snowlark, a smile upon her muzzle. It served the moorland clan right for doing it first, to know that ShadowClan was more than happy to get its own back and then some.

She swiveled her head towards a rustle in the grasses and entered a hunter's crouch, stalking away from the main body to investigate. 'Rabbit... or WindClanner?' A pair of long ears poking out from gaps in the blades confirmed it for her. Her belly flat to the ground, Ferndance edged ever closer, grimly aware of how easy it would be to mess up her chance. Rabbits were more slippy than frogs, she'd gotten lucky with the hare before, in an unfavoured environment, could she say the same?

Yes. This time, she absolutely could.

Big black eyes met with emerald ones and as the rabbit spun on its heels, Ferndance leaped after it, grabbing it by its neck and pulling it back to apply a proper killing blow. Wordlessly, she lifted her head to show off her success to any others who were lurking about.

/ rolled a 16 for catching and a 12 for prey size!
 
Plumpaw lingers at the back of the group, her claws flexing nervously against the hard, frosty ground as she watches her Clanmates disappear one by one into the shadows of the WindClan moorland. It's unnerving, setting paw on foreign territory like this, and the weight of it presses down on her, making her tense and cautious with every step. The last thing she wants is to draw attention to herself, but she knows she has to make herself useful. Despite the thrill of the forbidden, a heavy knot of unease coils in her chest. Keeping low to the ground, Plumpaw moves cautiously, trying to mimic the stealthy crouches of her more experienced Clanmates. She picks up a faint scent—a hint of rabbit musk clinging to the frosty grass—and her heart gives a reluctant leap. Okay, I've got this, she thinks, though her paws feel clumsy and out of sync. She barely remembers all the tips her mentor drilled into her about hunting in open terrain like this.

After a few shaky breaths, she begins to stalk toward the scent, her muscles taut with apprehension. Every noise seems amplified in the eerie quiet, and she finds herself glancing over her shoulder more than once, half expecting a WindClan patrol to leap out and catch her in the act. As she edges closer, she catches a glimpse of the rabbit—small and almost invisible against the frost-dusted earth, its body twitching alertly. Plumpaw's heart pounds. She shifts her weight, preparing to pounce. But the moment her muscles bunch, she miscalculates, stepping on a brittle patch of frozen grass. The crackle underfoot sounds like a thunderclap in the silence. The rabbit's ears swivel back, and in a heartbeat, it bolts across the moor, faster than Plumpaw can process. She lunges after it, paws skidding on the frozen earth, but her claws meet only empty air. The rabbit disappears into the distance, and she skids to a halt, breath heaving with frustration.

Plumpaw's ears flatten, embarrassment and anger prickling beneath her fur as she glances around to see if anyone noticed her failure. It stings to see the others with fresh catches, their eyes bright with the satisfaction of success. Swallowing her frustration, she flicks her tail in resignation, reminding herself that at least she tried. Still, the failure gnaws at her, a bitter reminder of how much she has left to prove—not just to her Clan, but to herself.

[ rolled an 8 ]​
 
White and blue pelt prickles with anxiety as Shalestorm tags along with this patrol to hunt. It's not like she doesn't understand the necessity of hunting on another clan's territory to feed her own but... it feels a little wrong, somehow. Like she has to apologize to cats who should not know they're here for prey they should not be aware has been taken from them. Already the patrol caught some prey, and Shalestorm winces as she realizes that she too should probably do something useful here instead of feeling sorry for an enemy clan.

It's a little relieving and a lot frustrating, then, that she cannot seem to locate any scent trails under the heavy frost. Maybe she's not used to moorland hunting grounds, maybe she's too unwilling to steal from another for her own gain, but she can still do more for others, so she sidles close to Plumpaw, attempting to bump shoulders with the apprentice, and offers a small smile. "Little hard to get a scent here, isn't it?"


  • ooc - roll 11, no prey booooooo

  • #e36f90

  • (img) Shalestorm * she/her* 27 moons
    blue point/blue chimera w/ low white; blue eyes
    Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
    penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots
 
Agatepaw wasn't sure how he felt about hunting on another Clan's territory, but if it meant he and his Clanmates might be well fed… He'd take that chance, especially if it made him useful.

He looked to Plumpaw after her failure, and shot her a sympathetic look - he knew he might be in a similar boat after all. His jaws parted, mismatched eyes scanning around for something that might potentially be bad at hiding.

Nothing. Only frost. Wonderful.

"Fox-dung," he snapped under his breath, tail lashing as he approached Shalestorm and Plumpaw. "Just frost… Maybe I'd have been better off in the marshes. But hey! At least we're not the only ones?" An attempt at spreading solace. But it was clear on his face that he felt guilty and like a failure.

// rolled a 7... sorry aggie.​

"Speech"

STEP FROM THE DARK TO THE LIGHT
 
She can only nod in response to Snowlark's request for them to move silently, keeping themselves unseen on the territory. After the battle with Thunderclan, the last thing they needed was more drama with other clans. "I can't even scent anything with all this frost. I don't think we'll be here for long." She mutters in response, taking note how the majority of the patrol was unable to pick up any scent of anything. Ears flicker in bitter frustration, tail drooping against the ground as she moves to regroup with the patrol. At least Snowlark and Ferndance found something.... that'll feed the kits and elders.
  • ooc:
  • 90108085_UMTjJ0IbSLQRnyW.png
    ✶ salamandersnap. warrior of shadowclan ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆。𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
    ㅤafab female, she/her | bisexual, single
    ㅤ25 moons old | ages every 00/19/00
    ㅤwarrior | mentoring stonepaw
    ㅤlong-haired black smoke
    ㅤnpc xx npc | close with none
    ㅤwritten by halimede, ic opinions | tags
 

It was exciting, the thought of crossing enemy lines to try and seek out prey that was otherwise hiding from them on their own territory. Gigglepaw had seen WindClan's moors from a distance before, but now she followed Salamandersnap and her mentor Shalestorm as they tread on the low-cut land. She'd been taught by Forestshade that WindClan kept themselves fed on the swift rabbits that roamed the moors, and Gigglepaw had been looking forward to trying to catch one herself.

Snowlark and Ferndance seemed to have gotten one, but Gigglepaw was having trouble picking up on any scent trail under the layer of premature frost that had overtaken the moors.

"I couldn't find anything... good catch, Snowlark! And mom!" Gigglepaw sighed, but was quick to recover and praise her Clanmate and Ferndance for their catches.

 
The frosted grass crunches softly beneath Jitterbug's paws as ey slinks through the unfamiliar moorland, eir tail low and swaying behind em. Ey stifles a tic—a quick jerk of eir neck that threatens to break eir focus—as ey scans the landscape. The icy wind pricks at eir fur, but ey pushes on, eir sharp eyes darting across the windswept terrain. Though unease knots in eir chest at the thought of trespassing, ey keeps eir mind on the task at hand. Feeding the Clan comes first. Everything else can wait. A faint scent drifts to em on the breeze, and eir ears swivel toward it instinctively. Rabbit. Ey glances back toward the patrol, briefly catching sight of a few others regrouping, some triumphant, others discouraged. Ignoring them, ey sinks low to the ground, eir movements deliberate and calculated. The frost crackles faintly underfoot, but the sound is muted enough not to alarm eir prey.

Through the tall blades of frozen grass, ey spots the rabbit—a plump, tawny creature nibbling at a patch of frost-tipped greenery. Its ears twitch, and Jitterbug freezes, holding eir breath. Ey feels the familiar pull of tension in eir muscles, eir body itching to move, but ey forces emself to remain still, letting the moment stretch out until the rabbit returns to its meal. Finally, ey shifts, slow and steady, creeping closer. The scent grows stronger, and eir heart pounds in eir chest. When ey's close enough to see the glint of its eyes, ey strikes. The rabbit bolts, but Jitterbug is faster, adrenaline propelling em forward as ey zigzags across the moorland in pursuit. Eir paws pound against the frozen earth, eir breath clouding in the cold air, and with one final leap, ey lands squarely on the rabbit's back. Eir teeth find purchase, and with a swift, efficient motion, ey ends its struggle.

Jitterbug stands over eir catch, panting slightly as ey shakes the frost from eir paws. The rabbit is heavy, and eir limbs ache from the chase, but a swell of pride rises in eir chest. Ey picks it up by the scruff and heads back toward the patrol, eir head held high. Dropping the rabbit back with the group, ey flicks eir ears and offers a rare grin. "We'll not be here for long, huh?" Eir voice is light, but there's an edge of satisfaction to it. Without waiting for a reply, ey turns eir sharp gaze back toward the frosted moorland, already scanning for any other opportunities. There's still work to do.

[ rolled a double 20 :D ]​
 

Hunting in another territory is nothing new for the long-limbed ShadowClanner. It was under similar circumstances that he'd made his first catch. A mouse — captured and killed in the oak forest — a reason for the itch in the back of his ankles every time he thinks of ThunderClan. WindClan though... he supposes that one's new, with their open air and long stretches of moor.

Silent as ever, it's hardly noticed when he takes off after the scent of rabbit. However, a shadow-born crawl is made difficult with the lack of canopy, and the hare takes off before he can get near. Eerienight's maw pulls into a frown, but the tom doesn't give up there. Spindly-limbs stretch outward, an awkward gait surging forward after his find. He draws near in no time, and when the rabbit is finally close enough, he leaps forward with outstretched claws and a killing blow. Satisfaction washes over him as the rabbit stills, and the tom grabs it by the scruff of its neck, and makes his return.

" We feast, " he declares with a nod of his head. He's not the only one to make such a catch, after all.
EpC61GT.png

// rolled a 20 / 17 ! +3 points!