sensitive topics RAT KING [◊] hunting

[SOOTSTAR]

(tw for disgusting descriptors involving garbage, bad smells, deceased/rotting animals, insects)

It's been life times ago since Sootstar stepped paw here.

The rancid smell, the strange black pelts thrown all about, abandoned twoleg garbage that rusted and fell apart, the low chittering of rats. This place was of pure evil, Sootstar is certain there was no place more disgusting and hellish in the entire forest. This is where cats come to die, when starvation rots their bellies, and they have no other choice but to feast upon carrion and sickly rats.

Sootstar knows the dangers of this place, but it's layout has changed since she's last been here. She does not know which areas are to be avoided and which bear minimal risk. She does not know where food will be lurking and where it will not. They commonly are paw and paw with each other, there was no reward here without risk. Some poor mongrel must've found that out for himself, a fox lays deceased on the ground. Judging on the decomposition and the maggots that writhe across its body it's been dead for some time.

However, just beyond the corpse a black-furred rodent scurries around. Behind it a heap of black pelts and other twoleg rubbish. Sootstar lowers herself to pounce but the rat is content with its sniffing, it turns around and disappears into the giant heap. Green eyes narrow upon the hole and she looks to @RACCOONSTRIPE , a former soldier-mate who might've gotten the same idea. "Any bets on a nest being in there?" she asks, eyes flickering across @SUNSTRIDE , @FOGBOUND , @Ebonylight. , @coyotecreek and lastly, @Drizzlepelt . She doubts the young SkyClan warrior has the heart for this environment, "kittypet warrior" or not, every SkyClan cat was the same. She'd not be shocked if he turned around and fled back to the Burnt Sycamore before the hunt was over.

"...Do we go for it?" As in scare them out, it'd be easy. With any luck a pawful of rats would scurry out making for a decent score.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Carrionplace is unsightly, that much is certain. Drizzlepelt’s reminded of the days he lay wasting away in Twolegplace, the stench of monsters and garbage surrounding him, threatening to choke him until he never opened his eyes again. Grotesque smells are nothing new to him, although this place is on a different level. Even so, he volunteered to help hunt here for a reason. He’s aware that Sootstar has little faith in him, but he’s dealt with bad situations all his life. This wasn’t anything new, and he knew he would be a good representative for his clan.

Even with the odor being on a whole other level than even he was used to, he powered through it. At least this place was fairly promising, Drizzlepelt thinks as he eyes the scurrying rodent that Sootstar first spotted. Rats sure do love their trash… he can’t even begin to understand them. He would only go through the nasty black pelts if push came to shove, which he’s had to do before, and he couldn’t say he enjoyed it. But to actually want twoleg’s left behind rubbish… very weird.

Sootstar asks the group if they should take a chance with the one lead they have, and Drizzlepelt agrees. “Following wherever the prey leads seems like as good an idea as any.” Shouldn’t be too hard to find more rats if this plan fails, right? The bigger concern is the rats putting up a fair fight, but hopefully things are hard on them as much as all the cats.​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   Many of the cats of WindClan spoke of the marsh colony as if it had been something sacred. Like he spoke of the mountains, they spoke of the mud and the rats. He had expected....more. Though what, precisely, he still could not say. Perhaps the wired electricity coursing through his veins kept him from truly looking. There was plenty to midst amidst the stench of carrion and clan. All of them huddled together. He does not like what they have become. He does not like what it seems the marsh group was, both of them the same: scavengers. Uneasy eyes scan the destruction around them. WindClan had sheltered him, it would seem. He has not known the truth of twoleg wreckage before this very moment.

Sootstar thinks lowly of the SkyClanner, yet Sunstride was even worse. He did not know the likes of this place at all. Trekking alongside them, the broad warrior takes a moment to turn in place, his gaze sweeping the heaps of heated stench he cannot make sense of. "This seems a terrible place," he remarks lowly. "I need no longer wonder where ShadowClan gets their stench." Or their rib-lined pelts, scruffy fur, terrible attitude and outlook on this world. What had kept them in this place when the clans split, but pride? (Was it pride that had returned them all here?)

"A nest of them?" Doubt and unease are deliberate on the warrior's face. "As long as you think it is worth it, Sootstar, I will follow you."

𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.16.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.   FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  —————————
  
  
  ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.
  
  

  ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——

• "speech"

​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Fogbound joined just days after WindClan’s creation, not as privy to the marshes that many had called their home some moons ago. He couldn’t see why with a pungent smell that twisted his insides. His nose crinkled, pulling at wounded flesh, taking in the destruction with a bitter tongue. Their land is as awful as their personalities. Quite fitting, mhm? He grinned, amused.

The city was cleaner, he supposed, but no less awful than where he stood, hunting for scraps and rats that wouldn’t hesitate to sink their teeth into meaty flesh. He’d seen them the occasional rat beneath the city’s thunderpaths, skittering along metal pipes and burrowing themselves into carcasses.

He noted an ivory-hued bone jutting out from beneath a pile of black, dull, and cracked, but clean of muscle. His gaze narrowed, catching sight of small misshapen forms skittering about—rats, his mind supplied. His eye throbbed, a poor reminder that he wouldn’t be as battle-ready, but that never deterred the moor runner, grinning devilishly. “Nor their personalities.” He remarked, glancing at the WindClan deputy.

His gaze lingered on the others, noting the SkyClan warrior with a crinkled gaze, smokey tail flickering. He wondered if the kittypet would have anything to offer, but the feline had some respect, volunteering, but that was as far as he’d go. “Sadly, we have little choice, now do we?” He mused, staring at where the rat had disappeared. It was this, or starve.

To attack a nest, Fogbound wondered. “I am at your disposal, my queen.” He rumbled, turning to the WindClan leader with an awaiting flick of his ear. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Ebonylight.]

*+:｡.｡ //TW for descriptors of trash being compared to the dead, mind the paragraph with {*}

Ebony's languid grin notched up a little higher as he listened to the clan cats around him chatter. Unable to help a chuff escaping him, he fought the urge to comment, Shadowclanner's aren't the only ones who've eaten this stuff. But he doubted they'd feel bad for their comments. Clancats rarely cared to sympathize with Ebony, not when his past was that of an unsavory "bloodthirsty" rogue. Choosing to remain ignorant of the hardships the tom, and most like him, had to endure growing up. The very same hardship they all now squirmed in the face of. Their torment was Ebony's trip down memory lane. It was almost strong enough to make him homesick.
Though...was that necessarily true anymore?
{*} Shadowy paws dig at the skin of a reeking bag- like the headless, bulbous corpse of a decomposing animal left in the sun too long. After spending so many moons in Windclan, was he not spoiled himself? Fattened by the rich meat of rabbit and vole, callouses softened by sun-warmed soil, so far removed from the concrete and salt-tinged rat meat of his youth that it had all become almost a distant memory. The scents that wafted from this place of mold and feces reminded him of his childhood home, sure, but after all this time he actually felt a similar urge to turn his nose up at it.
The realization made his smile grow just that little bit more. How funny.

Still, unable to help himself, he meows silkily into the tension-thick air, "It's not so bad, the taste of rats. You'll get used to it, I promise" His snake-like eyes slither between each cat, lingering momentarily on Drizzlepelt. No..he wasn't quite correct. Not all the clan cats present balked at a place like this. Ebony recognized that particular sparkle of troubled memories. This scrawny thing knows the taste of desperation, and seeing the lack of fear in Fogbound as well means he isn't the only one. Thats good. If this patrol was led by just Sootstar and Sunstride, though fierce as they are, they'd most likely leave with more scratches than prey. So Ebony is confident in his statement as he warns the well-fed (or formerly so) clan cats, "We should still keep our wits about us," his eyes glitter with something akin to excitement, almost mischievous, almost malicious, "these things bite harder than you'd expect" Lots of cats underestimate that fact. Rats may look like overgrown mice, but they're far fiercer. Like the cats forced to hunt them, they too have nothing left to lose, and they rarely go down without a fight. Ebony swiped a tongue across his fangs as he shifted his gaze from the cats to the scurrying shadows that flit in and out of the rot-smelling crevices, thinking of the many dumpsters he was forced to avoid as a kid thanks to these things taking chunks out the last cat that wrongly assumed their claws were sharper than those pointed teeth.
"Say when, Sootstar" he mews softly, dagger-sharp eyes turning back to pierce into the woman he'd chosen to follow. Eagerness pulls at his tensed muscles as he awaits the woman's next course of action. This once-powerful woman who'd exuded so much controlled courage was now forced into the mud and rot with the rest of them. How far she's fallen since that day she spilled Gin's blood into the earth. Was she thinking about that too? The irony of her own displacement at the paws of lawless heathens she couldn't win over this time must be devastating. What will a queen like her do now that the strength of her iron grip was halved so easily? Would she survive this? Or would it be her pool of blood this time that Ebony stepped over on his way to serve the next strongest cat in control?

If nothing else at all, surely Gin must be rolling in his grave among the worms knowing he'd lost to a woman who'd follow in his own downfall, pawstep by pawstep. How humiliating.
How amusing.

​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXIt feels strange to be in the place he’d been raised from kithood. The stench of the Carrionplace is familiar, if undesirable—he remembers how easy it had been to agree with Howlingstar to forsake this blight upon the forest and join Emberstar’s ranks. He tastes the air and has to stifle a rippling expression of disgust. Through the rot, through the Twoleg refuse, there’s a hot little core to where Sootstar gestures with her narrow emerald gaze. A snake-tailed vermin slinks into the hole in the trash, and he can hear the faint sounds of little claws scrabbling against hardened materials.

XXXXX“It’s been many moons since I’ve had to hunt rats, but that’s a nest if I’ve ever seen one,” he agrees, flicking his tail tip. He turns to examine the rest of the ragtag patrol, a motley arrangement of warriors from different Clans. He is ThunderClan’s only representative, but there’s the fishy reek of RiverClan among them, and he faintly recognizes the SkyClan tabby from border patrols. Many of them would not know the Carrionplace, though, even if they hailed from Twolegplace with similar stinking pits. This unsavory bit of ShadowClan territory is a special place all its own, complete with rotting predators and poisons threatening to fester in the strongest warrior’s bellies.

XXXXXRaccoonstripe surveys Sunstride’s face—the deputy and the WindClan warrior near him both bend to Sootstar’s discretion. Neither are familiar with this rot. The black feline and Drizzlepelt look less unenthused, but warier—Raccoonstripe couldn’t say why. After a few heartbeats, he dips his head. “I say either you or I flush them out, and the rest of us start catching them. He’s right,” he adds, gaze shifting to Ebonyflight, “about the teeth, for those who don’t know. Nasty bites. They can leave poison in your blood, so be careful not to let them nip you.”

─────────​

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

Slow, albeit hesitant nods and verbal agreements leave the cats of the patrol. Sunstride's comment in particular about ShadowClan scent makes her snort, "This place certainly doesn't help them." she agrees. Her stomach practically churns with every breath she takes, she was hungry but the smell was enough to convince herself otherwise.

Ebonylight vocalizes words of warning and caution to those whom may underestimate their prey. She nods both appreciatively and in agreement, she's witnessed first paw how nasty their bites can get. How quickly their poison, as Raccoonstripe would put it, could kill a full grown tom-cat. Soot Claw had been among one of their many victims, it'd be difficult for Sootstar to forget.

"I'll do it." Sootstar offers, already beginning to tiptoe forward. As she approaches the garbage heap, she eyes the hole suspiciously and wonders how many will pour out. Two? Five? Suppose there was only one way to find out...

Her haunches wriggle before she leaps into the air and onto the soft black pelts. She suspects the ruckus above would be enough to draw the rats out, but what she hadn't been expecting was an avalanche of the black pelts. Out from underneath her the twoleg rubbish gives out, with a cursing yowl she falls to the ground with it. Clashes and loud bangs can be heard from all around as other miscellaneous trash tumbles from the pile. By a miracle, none of it has pinned Sootstar, she springs to her paws stunned as the sound of shrieks erupt.

To avoid being crushed, not one, not three, not even five, but fifteen rats (a number she could not even count to) swarm out in a fury. Provoked by the avalanche they're aggressive and leaping at anything suspected to be a threat, including the patrol that tried to hunt them.

Sootstar shrieks as one goes for her paw, it's yellow tinted teeth digging into her flesh with a shocking force. She yowls and attempts to fling it off her paw as three more rats make their way to her. One bites at her underbelly while the remaining two dig into her heels.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• (I've dm'd those participating in the thread or have attempted to with a friend invite. Please read/respond to it!)
• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[coyotecreek]

( ★ ) he is truthfully only here to hunt for his clan. the fact that sootstar is leading this patrol, that he is one of the only non-windclan cats to participate, has him on edge. shadowclan territory, formerly marsh territory, had been where wolf's howl had grown up. as he pads through the swampy forest, he tries to pretend he is padding alongside them. they would certainly make fun of him for his adverse reaction to mud, the way his nose wrinkles when it is suggested he eat frog. if he closes his eyes, he can imagine their warmth as they lead him through the territory. the memory of one last night before everything was struck down.

he won't close his eyes, not right now. he is surrounded by enemies, forgiving raccoonstripe and drizzlepelt. this is no time for nostalgia. they are headed to the carrionplace, a place with a name that does not beckon to him. personally, he is willing to stay well clear, attempt to sneak back to the river to hunt or, windclan willing, seek prey inside horseplace where he used to live. this carrionplace swarms with rats, and coyote hates rats.

the patrol halts just outside and already, the stench of twoleg garbage and the almost inperceptible writhing of living creatures greets them. odd eyes narrow as the riverclanner glances from cat to cat, lip slightly curled. he wishes snakeblink were here, or even petalnose- someone whose authority he respects. instead, for the good of his clan, he has to listen to sootstar. offering a nod when the two he vaguely trusts give their input, the ginger and white tomcat crouches by the entrance, watching as sootstar steps into the carrionplace, muscles rippling as her stocky form leaps onto the black shapes. like water rushing over the gorge to a river below, rats pour from their nest, hissing and chittering as they swarm sootstar. a hiss escapes coyotecreek's throat as he watches the leader, fighting the internal instinct to rescue her. this is a woman deserving of her fate. rats should not be the worst she will face.

while the creatures are vaguely distracted, the tomcat creeps around the swarm, paws soft on the oddly textured ground. stragglers from the nest make their way into the open air and coyotecreek lashes out, claws flashing as he scoops a rat towards him and swiftly breaks its neck. sinking his teeth into the odd scaled tail, he glances around, keen on finding another. ​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Thank StarClan Sootstar offers up herself to attack the nest, Drizzlepelt thinks to himself. She’s the one with lives to lose should something go wrong, after all. Not that she likely gives life much consideration, seeing as she treats even her own clan like they’re specks of dust. It eerily reminds him of his mother…he shakes that thought away immediately as he needs to focus on the now.

It’s like a tsunami of rodents, and his eyes blow up as the amount of rats that come scurrying out. They’re immediately on the cause of the disturbance, and it takes everything in him not to grin in glee. The least Sootstar deserves is getting stormed by rats, and him being able to witness it in person makes a part of him giddy. It isn’t long before the rest of them aim for the patrol, however, and the sense of fear returns. Time to actually do his job.

He keeps in mind that the rats who focus on him will likely aim to sink their teeth into him, and the last thing he needs right now is to get infected. Drizzlepelt’s lucky enough to avoid their wrath as he cleanly weaves his way through the motions, unable to land a bite. He then turns his focus onto one rat in particular, deciding it will be his prey today.

// Rolled a 7!

Unfortunately, he isn’t able to get his maw to land right, and he’s right back to having to dodge blows. He curses his luck as he wonders how the others are fairing, but he can’t slip up, so his focus remains.​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He watched Sootstar volunteer, making no move to offer himself as he prepared himself, smokey tail flickering with devilish intent, claws unsheathing to dig into the softened earth, spoiled by twolegs. His nose wrinkled, helm tilted just slightly to peer at the cascading trash raining down on their small group. He grunted in surprise, barely able to pull himself away from the falling heap when the swarm of black-pelted rodents burst forth.

Fogbound barely had time to feel pity, seeing Sootstar crumble beneath a foggy haze of black. Oh, that’s a pity. A ruby optic crinkled in mirth at the sight, snapping forward to latch onto a particular rat heading in the queen’s direction, breaking its neck with a swift bite to its throat, the moor runner dodged scampering paws, feeling his chest constrict with unknowing panic springing upward.

The smokey brute sneered, feeling paws scamper up his spine, dropping his catch to bat off a few rats, feeling the blaring vulnerableness, nipping at another rat aiming to latch onto his forelimb, clenched teeth snapping its neck to drop beside the second.

In a last-ditch effort, Fogbound slammed himself into the ground, rolling over before anything could do any actual damage to his battered body, tired and ready to sink his teeth into a few more. I suppose that’s better than nothing. A sharp hiss escaped him, jerking his paw to knock a rat into whoever’s direction, disorientating the rat enough to give the other an opportunity to kill it.

/ rolled a 9 out of 10 for how successful he'll be ^^​

​

thought speech​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

She leans downward and snaps the neck of the rat that clung onto her forepaw. Blood gushes from the wound and stains the earth she walks upon as another rat targets her. It darts up a limb and bites into her lower chest as she circles around to nip at a rodent that tore into her leg.

It felt impossible to keep up, when one rat was thrown another took it’s place. The adrenaline that flows through her veins is the only saving grace from the full agony of the constant nips and bites.

Nearly trippling over the garbage in her path she begins to flee, feeling she has little other choice. Perhaps some space between the nest will allow for her to be targeted less severely. However, the weight of the rats dangling onto her slows her significantly. She doesn’t get much further than a fox-length before even more rats barrel onto her. A desperate yowl burns through the air as she’s brought to the ground, squirming and writhing in a last effort attempt to free herself from her impending fate.

Perhaps she should’ve saw this coming. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so willing to have made herself vulnerable, but she never could’ve predicted how fast her calculated plan would foil.

Her paws peak out from a mass of black, the strength of her thrashes quickly plummeting until they turn into nothing but feeble swipes. If one was to catch a glimpse of her face they’d be met with a lifeless, round stare as her nerves spasm, her paws and flank twitching in the final show of life.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXSootstar volunteers to be the one to lure the rats out of their nest, and Raccoonstripe gives her a nod, planting his paws and bracing himself for the stream of critters to come bustling from their hole. He had expected a good number of them, but the spill of rats exceeds his expectations. Sootstar’s tiny smoke-colored body is quickly swarmed—and the rest divert, headed for the tail-end of their patrol. The tabby’s lips peel away from his teeth as a bulky black body darts his way.

XXXXXHe unsheathes his claws, remembering the reckless behavior he’d exhibited in his youth when he and his brothers would hunt rats. There is none of that now—he’s seen too many die to their puncture, to the poison flowing in those nasty teeth. Raccoonstripe swats the rat upside its wedge-shaped head, and it shrieks nearly as loud as Sootstar does beneath her onslaught. The tabby’s yowl follows, piercing the air—the fat little rodent sinks yellowed fangs into the meat of one of his paw pads. With all the force he can muster, he slams his paw into the earth. A sickening but satisfying crunch follows, and the rat lets go of his paw, limp and battered.

XXXXXThe SkyClanner fields a strike from a rat—and to his other side, the copper-eyed WindClan tom does the same. The RiverClan warrior hunts expertly, despite being out of his element. But Sootstar—Sootstar’s eyes are glassy, as the rats begin to chew on her fur and flesh, and the yowls stop bubbling from her exposed throat.

XXXXX“She’s dead!” His breath catches in his chest. She’s not his leader, but damned if he’ll watch any cat, even one as brutal and warmongering as Sootstar, be chewed to pieces by rats. The tabby ThunderClanner launches himself to where the WindClan leader has fallen, his still-throbbing paw crunching down on a smaller, thinner rat who goes for still-warm flesh.

─────────​

rolled a 4, fool got bit
​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Raccoonstripe yells out that Sootstar has died from the rats, and the first thing that Drizzlepelt feels is satisfaction. The ThunderClan lead warrior is a better cat than he, going in to try and salvage the situation. Him however, he just watches on with morbid curiosity. It quickly turns to disgust as he sees the pests gnawing down on her corpse, and bile rises in his stomach. It makes him feel guilty for finding pleasure out of her pain… but he can’t find it in himself to go over and help.

Drizzlepelt attempts to redirect his negative feelings towards the rats not swarming, letting his own hunger motivate him. Doesn’t matter if someone is dying, they all need to eat.

// Rolled a 20! Critical success!

Something sparks within him, feeling a sudden burst of energy. Maybe it’s his pent up frustration, or maybe it’s something else; he isn’t entirely sure. Either way, he hisses as he aims for the neck of one of his tiny tormentors, a painful squeal sounding out as its life slips away. It isn’t long before he pounces on another, quickly stealing its breath with another powerful bite, this time on the back.​

 

[coyotecreek]

( ★ ) he expects the windclan tyrant to struggle for but a moment before her warriors rush to aid her, but instead, the storm hued molly staggers to her paws and attempts to run. rats crawl across her pelt in great swaths, biting and squeaking, their tiny claws boring holes in the she-cat's pelt. coyotecreek does not watch, does not allow himself to feel badly for the molly. she is distracting the rats, but as the riverclanner turns, he sees out of the corner of his eye her lithe body falling still.

it is now that he pays attention, horror wide on his face as he still grasps the rat tail in his jaws. bounding over, attempting to avoid the dangerous rodents, coyotecreek hisses. "someone get 'er out o' here or she'll die again," he growls, waiting for someone who actually cares to begin transporting the moor queen. this is the only shred of sympathy he will offer- he will fend off rats while windclan works to rescue their leader. he does not look at her, simply turns and begins batting the creatures away. sootstar is weakened, and so much in his gut tells him to let the rats finish her. but empathy still courses through his veins, so he plucks rodent after rodent away. "we need to get out 'o here"

his experience as a mouser in the horseplace moons ago lends itself to his hunting now and he swipes a heavy paw, knocking two wriggling creatures dead. tiny teeth sink into his paw, a last stand for one of the dreadful prey, and coyote winces but shakes the rat off. the tides are beginning to rise- these deadly rodents will soon overtake the hunting patrol. coyotecreek scoops up as many as he can fit in his maw, perhaps three total, and begins to start towards the exit, guarding the patrol's behind.

// rolled a 17, so he was bit shallowly and caught 3 rats. coyote will bring up the rear when the patrol retreats. ​