SUMMIT THE MOUNTAIN // hunting patrol

[FORESTSHADE]

// @STRYKER @Swallowpaw. @FLINTPAW @SCREECHSTORM
Takes place a couple of days ago prior to meeting!!

Assigned another hunting patrol, something Forestshade is not at all unfamiliar with. As one of the clan’s top hunters, she is often entrusted with leading these day in and day out. But today, she is more on edge as she leads the group of apprentices and her overgrown charge out of camp and into the marshland. Sweetpaw’s death continues to weigh heavily on her mind, and today she has been charged with being the sole warrior in charge of taking a bunch of apprentices out. Her ears are practically working over time to be sure nothing is sneaking up on them. She won’t lose another. She won’t. Instinctively, the torbie drifts closer to her son and brushes her shoulder lightly against Screechpaw’s as if to make sure he is still there. “Spread out, but don’t go too far,” She snips the warning at them, her apprehension palpable which is wildly out of character for the relaxed she-cat. “And keep an ear and eye on your surroundings at all times, got it? You heard Chilledstar. Predators can still be out here. Rogues, too. Shout if you need help.” Sweetpaw’s shouts for help flood her mind just then and she shakes her head, beginning to stalk off.
​

 

[FLINTWISH]

With Scalejaw recovering in the medicine den and a spillover of apprentices, it's hardly surprising that Forestshade must look after all of them, especially with the unique amount of trust that Chilledstar puts in her. It's impossible not to notice the way they laud her with praise and special privileges — but what should Flintpaw care? His whole family was doomed; Starlingheart to tragedy, Granitepelt to evil. What is Flintpaw doomed to? Atoning for sins he didn't commit? Maybe once he would have been keenly jealous of Forestshade's special attention, but anymore he thinks he is just happy to be looked at with something other than disdain or pity, and she can't really look at him at all.

Maybe he should think more kindly of her. She's without a kit now, and it's a much fresher wound than his own losses. When she snips her instructions, Flintpaw takes it with little more than the same passive frown he always wears. She tells them to look out for rogues, for predators, and the slate-hued apprentice's tail flicks. What would her own reaction be, should they face danger on this patrol? Would she be able to fend them off? Would she see her father again, if he and his crew were still lagging around their borders?

Wordlessly, Flintpaw branches out. Only a few pawsteps after he splits from the rest of his apprentice patrol, he scents it: some musky, muddy scent, a heartbeat so alive and vigorous that he feels it in his own ears, a wild smell that he's never come across before. Flintpaw parts his jaws, trying to gauge the direction of the wind and position himself downwind of the creature, and then he sees it.

A rabbit with short, rounded ears, and a coat the color of sawdust. Dual-tone eyes grow wide with shock and, admittedly, alarm. Flintpaw does not think himself a strong hunter. There's no way I could ever catch this thing. WindClanners were the fastest among them, and even they struggled with their rabbits. How could he be expected to get this thing under-claw? He still drops into an instinctive crouch, limbs coated to the ankle in marshy mud, but he has no idea how to proceed. Scalejaw's teachings leak out of his ears. Maybe some other apprentice could swoop in and steal the glory. It's not like he deserves it, right?

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by sixbane, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[BLACKSTRIKE]

➼➼ The idea of facing down predators and other cats doesn’t sit well with Stryker. He’d always been taught that cats aren’t supposed to kill other cats—but then the Great Battle had swept through the colonies, and that sentiment had been forgotten by seemingly all but his parents. Stryker’s survived this long by avoiding violent confrontation, but it seems ShadowClan doesn’t shy away from true battle. Their troubles with rogues should understandably make them wary and heavy-clawed; it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he wasn’t attacked on sight. Forestshade is his savior, in a way, he thinks. Now, he’s on a patrol scouting for danger—this is his chance to make it up to her, isn’t it? To prove that he’s worth keeping around?

The tom’s head is on a swivel, eyeing their surroundings with each step he takes. The tortoiseshell lead warrior has gone her own way, telling them all to keep within shouting distance, but she seems more tense than Stryker’s seen before. The black and white tom trails off onto his own path, looking out for predators—but all he finds is Flintpaw. The apprentice is stalking a rabbit, and Stryker is no strong hunter so he merely watches the younger ShadowClanner, awaiting a pounce or movement of some sort from Flintpaw.

➴ i think i found a home

• ooc: —
• 
  STRYKER ❯❯ he/him, former carrionplace loner
  ➼ thin black and white tom with mismatched blue and yellow eyes. calm and nonchalant, difficult to anger.
  ➼ currently on a probationary period; shadowing forestshade.
  ➼ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ➼ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

Forestshade ventures off for some time, and even though she scents several frogs she isn't able to kill a single one of them. She curses to herself as paws hit mud, another miss. The she-cat is far too in her own head, she realizes, and shakes herself indignantly. I hope the rest of the patrol is having better luck than me. She wonders what they'll say when the mighty clan huntress returns emtpy-mawed. Grunting, she turns and begins to head back, but stops short when she smells the rabbit.

The torbie creeps to Stryker's side, ears pressing forward. She can smell Flintpaw nearby; is he stalking it? "How close are they?" She whispers under her breath to her charge, curious how the apprentice will do against one of the marsh's most difficult pieces of prey to bring down. It would be a welcome gift to bring back to camp, that's for sure. ​