no angst PITTER PATTER PAWS // hunting + chickens

[cottonsprig]

Cottonsprig tried to keep her skills at their peak - for the moons following her promotion beneath Wolfsong, she ensured that she kept up with basic knowledge of her former tunneling career. Hunting was a skill, too, that she forbade herself from losing. And now that she knows, that in season's time she will have to overturn her role and be a warrior once more... she's determined to strengthen what she has. Medicine may no longer be her profession but she refuses to be useless in WindClan's climate.

Unfortunately, even with her actively working on her tracking and hunting... she cannot find hide nor hair of a mouse near the barn. She's almost tempted to blame the barn cats inside that they're feasting too much - but that'd be unfair to them, she thinks. If she too were in a place so plentiful with food, with no duty to tend... she'd be round and happy within a day, even.

Her gaze skates the scenery, the farm beyond them. All she can hear are the hens and roosters, all of which seem equally upset with the sudden freeze. She imparts to one of her patrolmates a quiet, "D'you think we could... catch one of them?" Chickens are larger birds than they're used to... but comparable still to a crow or a duck. Would it be outlandish to try?

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc // rolled a 17 (no encounter) but also a 6 (couldn't find prey) :(

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[downyfur]

Downyfur wonders if Pollenfur is around. They decide it's unlikely; their aunt's disposition, the little experience they have with it at least, doesn't seem like it lends to adventuring outside the barn, even if it's just its outskirts. The little feline has suggested @heatherpaw. stick close to them for the patrol. Though they let her stray when gathering materials, they figure it's best she gets some exposure to hunting aboveground, especially as she's not skilled enough to do it herself yet. Downyfur would've wanted another few sunrises to at least let the bare basics sink in, but the clan's needs must.

At Cottonsprig's thought, their eyes slide towards the noisy barn. Even if no cat could catch one, their clamor would provide good cover. "Um... maybe?" They haven't had many opportunities to see a chicken up close, but like Cottonsprig, they assume they're like round, landlocked ducks. "I don't know if it's worth trying right now..." Maybe later, if WindClan's hunger gets truly unbearable.

She beckons Heatherpaw to a different path with a flick of her tail, one stretching back towards deeper WindClan in the shadow of the barn. "Usually us tunnelers hunt belowground," they mew quietly as they walk, scanning the browning grasses for a familiar divot. "I don't think it'll be very helpful to try hunting on the surface right now, so we're going to find a nearby tunnel, okay?" She glances back at her a moment to gauge her reaction before continuing on.

Soon, an entrance comes into view, tucked behind a spray of wheat and haloed by rabbit-scent. "I'm going to go down there to see if I can get one," they whisper, nodding towards the hole. This would be a lot easier without a green apprentice hindering the whole thing; she'd have plenty of opportunities to learn after their bellies were filled. "You... stay up here and block the entrance, okay? You might have to wrestle with it for a bit if it comes up, I mean, hopefully you won't have to. But if you do, all you have to do is keep it there until I can come and kill it. Does that make sense? Um, it's not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be anyway." She waits for an affirmation to her rambling instructions before smiling at her (again) and disappearing down the tunnel.

Finding a rabbit and dispatching it goes surprisingly easy; they emerge in a few minutes, dirtied but proud, with an average-sized one dangling from their mouth and dragging between their legs. "Can you carry this back for me?" they ask, hoping their apprentice would feel a bit better about having an actual job.

ooc: rolled a 19 and a 10; earned 2 points!​

 

[Cricketcry]

The patrol led them to the crest of the small hill that leads down to the Horseplace. Cricketcry limps to Cottonsprig's side and follows the she-cat's gaze down the the pins of the farm. It doesn't sound like too bad of an option. "It would tuh-t-take two of us..." He rasps with an air of resolution in his voice, a suggestion he's decided he'll return to try his paw at catching one sometime soon. But not now, not when the Twolegs are moving so freely through their domain.

Cricketcry's lips purse and he twists away, trotting off to follow the faintest of scents. As he trails further away from the patrol his demeanor falls slightly as the scent goes entirely cold. Though disappointed, he straightens and nods- he'll surely catch something soon. There's no need to be so hard on himself, especially upon seeing Downyfur's catch he's grateful the patrol won't return to camp with no prey.

WHITE NOISE ╰⪼𓆧｡𖦹°‧ WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND

• rolled a 6, 0 points

• 

• 

  — tunneler of WINDCLAN
  — MENTOR to Honeysucklepaw
  ⪼ he/him | 31 moons, ages every 21st
  ⪼ lh chocolate tabby/fawn chimera
  ⪼ walks with an uneven gait and hunched over
  ╰⪼𓆧｡𖦹°‧

​

​

 

[Puddlepaw.]

I WANT TO BELONG
LIKE THE BIRDS IN THE TREES ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

puddlepaw & 08 moons & demi-girl & she/they & windclan apprentice ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Puddlepaw arrives upon the scene, it is with a rabbit already clutched in her jaws and a wiggle of her haunches - mismatched eyes watching the birds shuffle and dance about, mesmerized. Itd been an easier enough hunt, her prey all but falling into her jaws within the darkness as she darts about the tunnels, pelt dirt-strewn long before her emergence.

Leafbares early arrival seems to shake many of her clanmates, but in truth beyond disliking the cold - a sensation she is unused too, in her young age - she has little complaints. Prey is no scarecer yet then the days flames had licked across the moors - and if windclan had survived then, surely theyd do the same now, and she holds herself with lighthearted confidence in the face of change.

" Wonder what they're clucking about, " she hums absently.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

B L U E B I R D S ━ F O R E V E R ━ C O L O U R ━ T H E ━ S K Y

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

// 18 - easy find
16 - large prey (3 points)

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Distraction had overcome Celandinepaw, or perhaps it was honed hunter's instinct instead. It had been so long since she had flitted through the swaying sedges as a hunter (and even longer since she prowled through the barn as a mouser), as if pungent and aromatic scents of herbs had dulled a killer's flint-sharp edge, though twinges of it would always return in the form of sinews that always knew their previous places. She was a hunter before a healer, after all, and the blood that whirled within rye-hued frame did not die easily. Upon the quietude of the leaf-fall day, she could barely hear the pitter-patters of paws along the frost-tipped land, some quieter than others. She crouched down below the tips of proud wildgrasses sprung straight, eyes as round and moonlit as an owl's, as green gaze sniped through the stalks. There was a scent trail in front of her, bumbling and tangled as it was, as though whoever it belonged to did not even know where they headed. Finally, she caught it glancing about with its beady eyes. It did not run with panic nor anticipation in its step. In fact, it seemed to almost succumb to the rime that dragged it closer to the earth. In an explosive bout, the medicine cat apprentice lunged for the scrawny rodent, as if trenchant force wracked through her limbs and flowed out through outstretched claws. Swiftly did sharp ivories crack against the delicate windpipe of the prey animal, and it did not even cry out as its life flew from its grasp. Damn it, this'll barely feed anyone...

She hadn't even heard the commotion until after the hunt, and she quickly rushed over to the Horseplace's edge while dropping off her spoils next to another (rather haphazardly) placed prey item. "Woah! Don't disturb my - the workfolk's livestock!" Celandinepaw practically stumbled to her patrolmates as she jumped onto the wooden fence, swinging to and fro until the golden tabby managed to find her balance. "They worked hard for that, y'know. How would you feel if someone broke into camp and took away our prey? Well, to the workfolk, they're not always prey. They often just take the eggs for themselves, but I don't think I've ever seen them eat one." Even if she didn't live at the Horseplace, she still held her sentiments about the barn that had raised and weaned her, that had granted her the sparks of hope and hospitality alike. Perhaps the wild cats would be quick to chastise her for letting loose ties trip her up now, but cutting the strings away from her home would be akin to cutting away a part of her body itself.

𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘈 𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘊𝘈, 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘝𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘛𝘖𝘖 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘌 ₊˚❀ ༉ ‧₊ ˚. ☘︎ 𝘐 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘔𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘔𝘈 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘋

• OUT OF CHARACTER. Rolled a 13 and 5. Caught a mouse, worth 1 point.
  
  

  ❁ — MEDICINAL EXPERTISE: Celandinepaw is the current medicine cat apprentice of Windclan. Although she is quite new to her position, she also has much expertise with treatment regarding infectious diseases and basic remedies. As for anything more complex... you're better off asking a more experienced medicine cat. WOUNDS — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES — ★☆☆☆☆ INFECTIONS — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES — ★☆☆☆☆ CONTAGIOUS ILLNESSES — ★★★★☆ CHRONIC ILLNESSES — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS — ★☆☆☆☆ KITTING — ★☆☆☆☆ TRAVELING — ★★★☆☆​

• ​
  
• 

  CELANDINEPAW & TRANS WOMAN & 14 MOONS
  —— Medicine Cat Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Wolfsong & Cottonsprig
  —— A shorthaired, wheat-yellow spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak her mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan. She is prone to outbursts when spurned or stressed.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[PUMAPAW]

Following Cottonspring and the rest of the patrol's members in silence, Pumapaw finds herself feeling anxious. Would the patrol be successful? With how leaf-bare was already fairing, it would be a surprise if things improved. She may be young, but enough of the elders stories had only taught her that things would get worse in leaf-bare before they improved. Judging by the way the elders were stunned into silence with leaf-bare's early arrival? It only made sense that the molly was nervous they'd find enough food to bring home for the clan.

She's only aware of the patrol's halt when she nearly runs straight into the cat in front of her, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the chickens. "I'm sure we could.... couldn't we?" The patrol begins discussing the logistics of attempting to catch one of those weird birds, her nose twitching with the scent of a nearby mouse. They wouldn't miss her for just a moment would they? Sneaking off, the girl reappears several moments later, the mouse hanging limp in her jaws.

my heart is goldㅤ ♡ ♡ㅤINFO.ㅤ/ㅤ11/01/2024

• ooc: rolled a 16 for success, 4 for prey size (small) ; 1 point
• 
  ■■■■■■■ ✶ pumapaw. apprentice of windclan ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆｡𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
  ♡ㅤafab female, she/her | heterosexual, single
  ♡ㅤ08 moons old | ages every 00/01/00
  ♡ㅤapprentice | mentored by tba
  ♡ㅤchocolate/lilac chimera
  ♡ㅤnpc xx npc | close with who
  ♡ㅤwritten by halimede, ic opinions | tags‎

​

 

[bramblepaw -]

✦ The newly-made apprentice didn't have skills to maintain, only to develop, though the fact that they would be moor runner skills did somewhat dampen her enthusiasm toward them. She should be following alongside Heatherpaw and Downyfur, or Cricketcry if the tabby must be parted from her sister, ears pricked and eyes wide as tunneller knowledge was imparted. Instead, she followed at the heels of medicine cats and moor runners and a flock of apprentices, attention easily wandering to the wide world slowly being revealed to her. Was it rude of her to not watch closely? Papa said she should learn the entire territory to understand it well, so if it was rude, at least it was for a good cause. Bramblepaw held an easy smile on her face to offset the rudeness, just in case it existed.

Unfamiliar noises spill from the unfamiliar sight of the barn, loud and shrill enough that she almost expects the frost to shatter around them. Could she really hunt something that made noises that big? The question is founded in curiosity more than doubt - Sootspot's daughter has no room or context for self-doubt - and partially answered by a scent carried on the wind to her twitching nose. The scent was more familiar than whatever wafted from the Horseplace; maybe she wouldn't know if she could catch the birds (was it best not to try, given Celadinepaw's rebuttal to Cottonsprig's question), but she could catch something else.

"Okay, here goes," she whispered before setting off. One week's worth of training under Scorchstorm guided Bramblepaw into a wriggling crouch, too much force driving her toward the squirrel she had scented, teeth scrambling to find purchase, but the result was sound despite the methods. The prey was a pleasant warmth in her maw, but the pride of a successful hunt was a much better protection against the cold.

//rolled a 20 for prey (no encounter), and a 10 for prey size (if prey found); 2 points​

​

 

[honeysucklepaw]

She trails after Cricketcry like she is tied to him... It's important not to wander too far off in this frigid cold and she almost wishes the tunnels were more infested with prey because at least there it might be warm. It'd prove harder to catch things because it's cramped but... that hardly matters to her self-absorbed complaints. Cottonsprig's presence is a reassurance to endure.. one she consumes hungrily by weaving her way closer to her kin with a shy smile.

The suggestion to catch chickens wasn't lost on her as a crazy task... Honeysucklepaw herself wasn't that much bigger than a chicken, in all honesty (which is what made her so good at tunneling!) and those things had their own weapons to fight back with. Others dive forward to go about their own hunts but... she can't make hide or hair of any of the overwhelming dung scents from the farmlands. "I don't smell anything," she tells the medicine cat, glancing after the various shapes of her clan-mates as they search like eager dogs for whatever they've scented. Was her nose working?

"Maybe I've got too much dirt in my nose..."

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 'scents are just memories'
• //rolled a 7, no prey
• HONEYSUCKLEPAW
  - ward of cricketcry of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - orphan daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes

 

[MAELSTROMPAW]

Maelstrompaw crouches a little ways off from the others, barely catching snippets of their voices as she inches closer to the ground. Her whiskers twitch as she stares intently at a small shadow flitting beneath the tall, yellowed grasses. It's the kind of prey WindClan cats are used to—nothing grand like the talk of chickens or ducks, but solid and substantial enough to fill a belly. The smell of fur and earth fills her nose, sharpening her focus as she watches her target scuttle forward. When Maelstrompaw springs, she lands squarely over her prey, a soft squeak the only sound as she pins it beneath her paws. A spark of satisfaction glints in her eyes as she gives it a quick bite, catching the faintest murmur of voices from the patrol nearby as she rises.

She'd only heard bits and pieces of their talk about hunting chickens, but she finds herself shivering slightly at the idea. Chickens… those are creatures far bigger than the usual quarry they chase across the moors, and it sounds risky. Not that she wouldn't try if they all did—Maelstrompaw would never be the first to back down if others thought it was worth it—but her nerves jitter just imagining the clash of feathers and claws with a creature so large. As she carries her catch back to the group, she considers her position quietly. She doesn't often speak up in patrols unless necessary, but today, she feels a gentle nudge of pride, both in her own small success and in the determination she senses from the others around her. Everyone else seems so intent on securing something, each in their own way. The way Cottonsprig's gaze sweeps the field or the slight furrow of concentration on Downyfur's brow… Maelstrompaw admires that in them. It reminds her that even in the chill of leaf-bare, when prey is scarce and each hunt feels heavier with importance, WindClan's spirit doesn't falter.

When she reaches the patrol, she places the mouse at her own paws, a bit of pride warming her. "Got this one," she murmurs, her voice soft but not without a hint of triumph. She glances at Cottonsprig, noting the way the other's determination hasn't wavered despite the challenging hunt. "It's not a chicken," she adds, "but it's better than nothing, right?"

[rolled an 11, then a 4 for size :) ]​

 

[Beetlepaw!]

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ Vague memories of her time traveling around with her mother; she's seen quite a few weird birds that don't fly and yet are covered in feathers. Beetlepaw watches them with wide eyes, her black ears twitching with every cluck. It takes everything in her not to go chasing after the chickens; perhaps they would go airborne if threatened by her teeth. " w-would they notice us i-if we wore some of their feathers?"The go about their lives too far in the horseplace for her to feel comfortable enough to go in broad daylight.

The sound of rustling grass parting to make a path for something small has Beetlepaw head snapping in that direction to catch a look. "C-come here, p-please" she whispered. The young apprentice gives into the chase as the unfortunate mouse's path crosses her. Beetlepaw wonders what the chickens would taste like as she crunches down on her prey. "Your flesh won't go to waste h-here" she giggles. Neither will your bones.

ooc Information

• ooc: — Rolled an 11 for prey and a 5 for size
• 

  Beetlekit — She/Her ･ 6 moons ･ Windclan kit･ PENNED BY @Ghostunes

  ☀︎ A timid mostly black she-cat with chocolate striped spots on her chest face and foot.​

 

[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ Foxglare could count this as his third time feeling the bite of frost beneath his paws, and there was something oddly comforting about the dependability of Leafbare's freezing bite. Their patrol padded around the outskirts of the horseplace, the barn looming sturdily over the moor. Had it been four whole seasons since they'd followed Sunstar there, sheltering in the hay and waiting to take their clan back from the claws of Sootstar? Thoughts shifted to him, and Wolfsong. Did leafbare chase after them as well? Were they out somewhere sniffing for prey beneath frozen grass too?

The scent of rodent twitches at his nose, and he's brought out of his ponderings to focus, stalking away from the group to follow it. A mouse. Should've been easy enough to catch. He stalks toward it, about to pounce when-

"ROOOOOO!!!"

The mouse scurries into the underbrush, and the warrior looks up disparagingly at the rooster crowing nearby. He sighs and returns to the group as they discuss whether the things were catchable. Foxglare's tail twitches, peeved. He glances over at Celandinepaw as she goes on her explanation as to why they wouldn't be hunting the fat-looking birds. (It was rude, allegedly.)

"D'you think they'll mind we take an egg or two, then?"

WE CAME FROM DIRT ⁀➷☾⁺₊ WE HAVE TO SWALLOW IT.

• OOC: rolled a 7 (failure)
• 
• 
  
  — meztli . sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 23mo moor-runner of windclan. Mentored by shalestripe. currently mentoring frightpaw. formerly mentored tigersting.
  — a scarred, hulking white and golden tabby tom with gray eyes
  — taciturn, vigilant, reserved, self-righteous, restrained, independent, humanitarian, unyielding
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — penned by eezy

​