- Jul 10, 2022
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@Coldpaw | Coldsnap @WOLFSNARL @HEAVY SNOW
//Sorry for the late post! Here's the Weekly Patrols given to us. Fox attack. No deaths, since there will be an NPC that dies in this- and only one fox. The patrol will work together to kill or chase off the fox. It is below average in size for a male fox. Young in age.
The idea of being on a patrol with the three cats who barely smiled around her was odd. She was used to the cold glares and spits of anger that left people around her. Though, it had toned down over the past moons. Perhaps things were settling down, but she wouldn't let herself relax for much longer. Hyacinthbreath flicks her tail to the patrol behind her, readying her command. "Coldpaw, you'll flank me from behind. Heavy Snow, you will be at my right. Wolfsnarl, at my left. You smell anything, hear anything, and you alert me. A simple tail flick. Understood?" She whispers softly to the three toms, waiting for them to get in position before she begins to march through the moors and towards the forest, tail steady behind her to keep perfect balance. With all these toms around her, she looked like a kit- terribly small compared to them. But would she complain? Not at all. Not anymore, at least.
The smell of rotting flesh is the first thing that hits her nose, and Hyacinth is quick to follow the scent trail until she comes before the decaying body of a cat that smelled of WindClan. What had this one been named, Sunflowerpaw? She'd barely turned nine moons old, this past moon. She pushes her pawpad to the body, feeling the cold on her toes. "She's been dead for a small bit of time. Too long for me. The damage looks like a fox tore her to shreds before she could escape. Must have been exploring the boundaries of the moorland camp." She meows softly, a look of sorrow in her eyes. Still, she gives the a patrol a nod to continue. "The fox scent is still fresh. It is male, from the stench. I've seen plenty of these creatures in my homelands, they are quick-witted fellows." She remarks with a frown, body weaving around a tree easily until the scent smacks her right in the nose. It's fresh, present- the fox was right past the trees they were cloaked by, but the wind faced them, hiding their scent well.
"Split off, surround the fox. We'll attack from all sides. Got it? When I say go, we go together. If we work together, we can kill it."
//Sorry for the late post! Here's the Weekly Patrols given to us. Fox attack. No deaths, since there will be an NPC that dies in this- and only one fox. The patrol will work together to kill or chase off the fox. It is below average in size for a male fox. Young in age.
The idea of being on a patrol with the three cats who barely smiled around her was odd. She was used to the cold glares and spits of anger that left people around her. Though, it had toned down over the past moons. Perhaps things were settling down, but she wouldn't let herself relax for much longer. Hyacinthbreath flicks her tail to the patrol behind her, readying her command. "Coldpaw, you'll flank me from behind. Heavy Snow, you will be at my right. Wolfsnarl, at my left. You smell anything, hear anything, and you alert me. A simple tail flick. Understood?" She whispers softly to the three toms, waiting for them to get in position before she begins to march through the moors and towards the forest, tail steady behind her to keep perfect balance. With all these toms around her, she looked like a kit- terribly small compared to them. But would she complain? Not at all. Not anymore, at least.
The smell of rotting flesh is the first thing that hits her nose, and Hyacinth is quick to follow the scent trail until she comes before the decaying body of a cat that smelled of WindClan. What had this one been named, Sunflowerpaw? She'd barely turned nine moons old, this past moon. She pushes her pawpad to the body, feeling the cold on her toes. "She's been dead for a small bit of time. Too long for me. The damage looks like a fox tore her to shreds before she could escape. Must have been exploring the boundaries of the moorland camp." She meows softly, a look of sorrow in her eyes. Still, she gives the a patrol a nod to continue. "The fox scent is still fresh. It is male, from the stench. I've seen plenty of these creatures in my homelands, they are quick-witted fellows." She remarks with a frown, body weaving around a tree easily until the scent smacks her right in the nose. It's fresh, present- the fox was right past the trees they were cloaked by, but the wind faced them, hiding their scent well.
"Split off, surround the fox. We'll attack from all sides. Got it? When I say go, we go together. If we work together, we can kill it."
