K
kill it
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"A GENTLE BREEZE FROM HUSHABYE MOUNTAIN "
The days were getting shorter, the nights were getting colder, and Salmonrun had already had enough of it. He supposed it wouldn't be quite as bad if he was a healthier cat, if his numerous scars were absent and he finally managed to shake the infection that lingered in his shoulder, but he woke to an ache and fell asleep to five more. He was getting tired-er by the day and his appetite lessened bit by bit. Safe to say, he wasn't doing well.
The red tabby lingered by a stream, half heartedly crouched and ready to swipe at a passing fish. He'd practiced a little bit already but hadn't managed to catch anything. His paw swept out once more, claws extended, and hooked onto a fish. The surprise of it had Salmonrun digging his nails into the thrashing fish and hauling it out of the water. He was almost ecstatic, a grin overtaking him, but apparently he hadn't taken the kill far enough back and... the fish flopped its way back into the water.
Salmonrun was going to cry.
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