- Dec 27, 2022
- 42
- 38
- 18
A weak veil of sunlight cloaked effortlessly around a balled up figure upon his perch by the window, it's light shining through closed lids in efforts to wake the snoozing tom. He stirred a bit, not wanting to leave the grasp of slumber just yet inside his Two-Leg den where the wind and rain could not penetrate it's walls. He grumbled sheepishly, curling a tendril-like tail over a elongated snout while tucking his shaded paws into the warmth of his abdomen. This ethereal feeling was nice—peaceful. The den lay quiet besides the background noise of the giant window his Two-Leg always watched out of. He never understood why. There was nothing interesting to look at—well, besides the one time he saw a bird through it. Ferretwhisker wanted to chase it and get a better look, but his owner would yell gibberish at him, swatting him away from the window-like thing.
The sound of heavy foot steps reach his ears along with the sing song voice of her, chatting about to him as if he could understand her. She ran her hand along thr nape of his neck and down his back, sleep ripping away from his own clutches finally. He stifled an annoyed hiss, but her massages felt too good not to give in to a satisfied purr. It's then that she leaves him, walking to his dish and filling it up with food for the day. She kisses him, leaves the window cracked for him and turns to walk out the door, blabbing about like normal. Ferretwhisker sighs, eyeing at his dish that laid upon he floor filled up with dry food. It looked like slop compared to the succulent taste of prey. Every day he was growing more fond of that and continued to snub his other food.
His stomach twisted and howled with hunger, but he couldn't bring his own appetite to succeed in order to eat. With a huff, the tom graciously leaped upon his perch and shimmied his way out into the garden. The plush grass softened his landing, the blades tickling under his soft pads as he sauntered up and over the fence line, dropping down into the forest and into SkyClan territory. Ferretwhisker sighed, wandering through the skeletal foliage to no where in particular, his steps light and airy to not disturb his surroundings. It was nice, he had to admit, to be out here in the open under the shelter of tall pine trees.
Moments passed before the pungent scent of a plump bird came into view. Ferretwhisker halted mid-step, eyeing the splotched avian with a devouring hunger. Predatory drift kicks in and his crouched down, keeping an eye on the prize. He cruises ever so quietly to the tree which harbored his target, launching himself into the air as his hind legs kicked from under him. Curved claws would latch into the soft bark, his muscles pulling himself forwards swiftly and cautiously to avoid alarming the bird that was now perched at the edge of the branch with it's back to him. He slinks onto the branch, delicate paws placed lightly in front of one another. Predator and prey, the daily life cycle of giving and taking away. He edges closer, cerulean eyes pinpointed onto the birds back. He's about to lunge forward, to grasp at the magpie in a steel cage trap until a rustle below in the ferns. What the—? Ferretwhisker faltered for a brief second, his eyes leaving his prey for a moment to peer at whatever was making that damned noise until he heard the familiar warbling cry of the bird—an alert. "Dammit!" A snarl would rip from his throat as the magpie began to fly off to safety. His cover was now blown, his prey was about to get away and that rustling didn't cease at all. Ferretwhisker growled, making a split decision right then. He would not fail in this hunt. His pride and ego wouldn't allow it. He launches himself from powerful limbs, his lean figure soaring through the air and clasping the bird within his claws. "Hah! Got ya!" The tom exclaims, a gleeful grin upon his maw. He moves to retract himself back onto the branch, but there's no branch there. Suddenly, he's falling. Limbs flailed aimlessly in attempt to catch his plummeting body, fear striking in his chest like ice. He has no time to scream or shout curses to the wind, his breath is ripped from his lungs as he falls from the branch and onto the unforgiving earth below.
The ground hits him hard. The tom lands with a sickening thud, his body splayed out amongst the ferns. Blackness rims his vision, threatening to over take him. He can't breath. Can't speak. He just lays there motionless with his catch laying beneath his feet. Was this it? Was he going to die in a feeble attempt to catch food to satisfy his hunger? Blackness starts to take over his line of vision, beckoning him with the sweet song of slumber once again. He's a bit delirious at this point, not sure where he was or if anyone would even find him laying there.
TLDR; Ferretwhisker leaves his home for the day to go out hunting. He climbs a tree and catches a magpie but loses his footing and falls. The breath is knockedout of him and he probably has a mild concussion with modersre bruising and bruised ribs. Lol oops.
The sound of heavy foot steps reach his ears along with the sing song voice of her, chatting about to him as if he could understand her. She ran her hand along thr nape of his neck and down his back, sleep ripping away from his own clutches finally. He stifled an annoyed hiss, but her massages felt too good not to give in to a satisfied purr. It's then that she leaves him, walking to his dish and filling it up with food for the day. She kisses him, leaves the window cracked for him and turns to walk out the door, blabbing about like normal. Ferretwhisker sighs, eyeing at his dish that laid upon he floor filled up with dry food. It looked like slop compared to the succulent taste of prey. Every day he was growing more fond of that and continued to snub his other food.
His stomach twisted and howled with hunger, but he couldn't bring his own appetite to succeed in order to eat. With a huff, the tom graciously leaped upon his perch and shimmied his way out into the garden. The plush grass softened his landing, the blades tickling under his soft pads as he sauntered up and over the fence line, dropping down into the forest and into SkyClan territory. Ferretwhisker sighed, wandering through the skeletal foliage to no where in particular, his steps light and airy to not disturb his surroundings. It was nice, he had to admit, to be out here in the open under the shelter of tall pine trees.
Moments passed before the pungent scent of a plump bird came into view. Ferretwhisker halted mid-step, eyeing the splotched avian with a devouring hunger. Predatory drift kicks in and his crouched down, keeping an eye on the prize. He cruises ever so quietly to the tree which harbored his target, launching himself into the air as his hind legs kicked from under him. Curved claws would latch into the soft bark, his muscles pulling himself forwards swiftly and cautiously to avoid alarming the bird that was now perched at the edge of the branch with it's back to him. He slinks onto the branch, delicate paws placed lightly in front of one another. Predator and prey, the daily life cycle of giving and taking away. He edges closer, cerulean eyes pinpointed onto the birds back. He's about to lunge forward, to grasp at the magpie in a steel cage trap until a rustle below in the ferns. What the—? Ferretwhisker faltered for a brief second, his eyes leaving his prey for a moment to peer at whatever was making that damned noise until he heard the familiar warbling cry of the bird—an alert. "Dammit!" A snarl would rip from his throat as the magpie began to fly off to safety. His cover was now blown, his prey was about to get away and that rustling didn't cease at all. Ferretwhisker growled, making a split decision right then. He would not fail in this hunt. His pride and ego wouldn't allow it. He launches himself from powerful limbs, his lean figure soaring through the air and clasping the bird within his claws. "Hah! Got ya!" The tom exclaims, a gleeful grin upon his maw. He moves to retract himself back onto the branch, but there's no branch there. Suddenly, he's falling. Limbs flailed aimlessly in attempt to catch his plummeting body, fear striking in his chest like ice. He has no time to scream or shout curses to the wind, his breath is ripped from his lungs as he falls from the branch and onto the unforgiving earth below.
The ground hits him hard. The tom lands with a sickening thud, his body splayed out amongst the ferns. Blackness rims his vision, threatening to over take him. He can't breath. Can't speak. He just lays there motionless with his catch laying beneath his feet. Was this it? Was he going to die in a feeble attempt to catch food to satisfy his hunger? Blackness starts to take over his line of vision, beckoning him with the sweet song of slumber once again. He's a bit delirious at this point, not sure where he was or if anyone would even find him laying there.
TLDR; Ferretwhisker leaves his home for the day to go out hunting. He climbs a tree and catches a magpie but loses his footing and falls. The breath is knockedout of him and he probably has a mild concussion with modersre bruising and bruised ribs. Lol oops.
[ PENNED BY CASER ]
Last edited:
stine#3004
