sensitive topics SETTLE FOR A GHOST / temp. closed

[sweetnose]

The fledgling crow they'd been stalking, alerted at the last heartbeat to the SkyClanner by a snapped twig in their direction (another hunter, Sweetnose had assumed, taking chase after a different meal), had taken off in a squawking flutter. In the late hour, however, forest predators other than the Clan cats are alive. Sweetnose had barely noticed the owl until a pale shape had swooped upon her quarry, a gurgle cut off abruptly by the calico's annoyed exclamation.

"Hey! No! Get back here! That's mine!"

Sweetnose's hiss is accompanied by the rustle of leaves as they scurry to the next branch, the fleet-pawed ease of moons' practice granting them swifter passage than most. But they do not have wings, and as the owl carries the unfortunate crow into the night, they find themself at the side of a familiar dark tabby pelt within the boughs of pine.

"For StarClan's sake." She seethes, fur bristling, as the branch sways beneath their combined weights. Unused to the presence of another cat close by when so high up, Sweetnose is half distracted when she mews. "Practically had my claws in it. Any luck, Kitestorm?"

// please wait for @KITESTORM

encounter: 1 (predator. congrats sweet it's an owl)
tracking: 11 (finds prey, predator steals it)
prey quality: 19 (prey x3, gone in an instant</3)​

 

[KITESTORM]

✦​

The early arrival of frost was a variable that had not been planned. The early signs of a cruel Leafbare are at the forefront of Kitestorm's mind as they attempt to aid as much as possible in preparation for what is to come. In those few and far between moments where they're not drudging from one patrol to the next, there is the formulation of an idea- more concrete than ever before- germinating in the depths of their mind. Pruning makes room for new stronger growth, and potential for the clan to flourish in ways they may not with so many... wastes of space, extra mouths to feed. There's no rhyme or reason to what they're going to do, they serve as only the executioner and servant of a terrible purpose.

The pine bark is solid beneath Kitestorm's paws, a grounding force so far from the forest floor. Their breath catches in their lungs as they propel further up a tree neighboring Sweetnose's. Kitestorm scrambles upon a limb of the pine tree and peers through pine nettles at Sweetnose as an owl sweeps by and disappears into the darkness. Dim eyes widen at the sight of the predatory bird's presence, stirring hope in the chest of the dark tabby. The bird of prey is not their namesake, but is taken as a sign all the same. As an approval from higher powers that they're truly meant for such an undertaking.

The hunting patrol has scattered, a practice far more common as patrols scour the hostile forest for prey. It is normal for Kitestorm and Sweetnose to depart from patrols and in spite of Kitestorm's lack of hunting skills they're able to herd prey towards the calico or they watch quietly, learning from the better hunter. With an effortless jump, Kitestorm launches onto a branch beside Sweetnose's and then shinnies over to the one she is settled upon. Their claws sink into the tree, securing their pawhold as the branch sways. "No luck," they exhale.

Short ears fall back as the tabby hears the distraction, confusion in the calico's tone. The parasitic feeling of guilt winds its way through Kitestorm and they shake their head, attempting to erase the feeling. When they next speak their words catch, they'll betrays the dilemma Sweetnose is in. "...that owl was so... close to you..." The dark feline tiptoes forward, expertly inching forward on the branch. "In fact..." Kitestorm attempts to not notice any indication of more confusion or fear from Sweetnose as they herd her closer to the thinnest part of the branch, dipping downwards perilously under their combined weight.

"...in fact... it really scared you, didn't it?" Another half step forward and their muzzles are touching, so close Kitestorm is sure they can feel her terror. They sheathe their claws and reach a paw up, which they push into the center of Sweetnose's chest. Kitestorm must will themselves to ignore the sensation of a hammering heart but after a final swallow of the frigid air, Kitestorm gives a tiny nod and resigns to following through. There's no way Sweetnose could escape, the branch is too weak to jump from... besides, Kitestorm could easily catch up. Their dark paw flexes in her diluted fur and with an effortful shove Kitestorm sends their clanmate plummeting towards the forest floor. Eyelids flutter open and Kitestorm peers over to catch sight of the broken body of Sweetnose. I'm sorry.

══
They hastily make their descent, throwing themselves down to reach the warrior's side swiftly. It's obvious- from the angle of her neck and the blood staining her fur- that Sweetnose has died. "No, no, no... wake up! Somebody... help! Sweetnose..." It may be the loudest they've spoken since arriving to the forest, a strained yell for the patrol's attention. "An owl... it spooked Sweet... sh-she lost her balance." Kitestorm's teeth grit, their jaw painfully tense as they huddle close to their former friend. The dark tabby shudders as their body is racked with a shock response, the image of an owl coming too close to poor Sweetnose cementing itself in their mind. Their stomach flips and the trees seem to dance around them as blood seeps onto their paws and Kitestorm wrenches away, turning to dry heave. There was nothing for Kitestorm to do... the owl had been too close, a phantom in the night...

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

•  
• 
  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

• 

​

​