THIS AIN'T A SCENE \ event hunt, phase ii

[FLUFFYPAW]

She's buoyed by her recent success, although she has not been able to duplicate it since she'd given her first vole to Budkit. Still, the idea that Fluffypaw is capable of bringing prey home to her Clan has boosted her confidence tenfold. She is perky, upbeat, beside her mentor today, and her ears swivel, doing her best to detect movement beneath the brittle pine needles and other forest debris.

Fluffypaw tastes the air. She can't scent anything under the rime coating the ground, and they're a little too near Twolegplace for her to be able to hear anything but muffled neighborhood activity... she detaches herself from Greeneyes' side, beginning to root around in desperation. Something has to be here... even if I need to climb, I'll find something... Jade eyes flick skyward, but the tree branches are eerily barren. Have the squirrels are hidden, already? Have the birds flown, seeking warmer skies?

She exhales; her frustration is misty and white. "I don't know if there's even any prey out here," she murmurs. Then, her ears flick — something snaps, a stick, maybe, brittle from the cold. Fluffypaw turns her head, and her eyes go round as moons. The creature isn't anything she's ever seen before, but it looks (and smells) incredibly unfriendly... it's body is long, its fur brown, crested white on its throat and tummy. Fluffypaw knows the scent of a predator when she encounters one — and this one reeks, almost foxlike.

It bares its teeth at her, and, in Fluffypaw fashion, she freezes. "G-guys! Uh —" Her pelt puffs away from her small body, and she does something uncharacteristic for her — she bares her teeth to the root, a growl rumbling in her throat. Every instinct screams for her to run!, but the rest of her patrol is still hunting... and they might get hurt if she just flees...

Fluffypaw swallows as much air as her lungs will hold. She unsheathes her claws and swipes them toward the creature's face. The blow doesn't land; it's more threat than anything else. The weasel is unimpressed by this display; its muzzle shrivels, revealing yellowed fangs. It darts closer to her, bobbing back and forth, its long body poised to strike.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: fluffypaw rolled for an encounter in this thread .. say hi to the weasel who scared off her prey (she gets 0 points slay) remember to roll w/ encounter!
  @GREENEYES mentor tag
• 
• Fluffykit . Fluffypaw, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 12 moons old, ages realistically on the 8th.
  — mentored by Greeneyes ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — skyclan apprentice. butterflytuft x dandelionwish, gen 3.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  lh chocolate tortie/cream chimera with jade eyes. frightened, clingy, anxious, gentle.

​

 

[Orangestar]

While she is readjusting to her duties, Orangestar hasn't been comfortable enough to climb so far. Her muscles pull in discomfort when she stretches, and the strength she had lost to her half moon of recovery has not yet returned to her limbs. Perhaps, however, she should push herself further to achieve that. Her situation is made more difficult by the sudden onslaught of frost, and the knowledge leaf-fall hunting should not be this difficult. They're seeing cold now that they usually wouldn't for another moon.

With the arrival of that cold, the prey of the forest territories begins to vanish. She has relinquished her comfort as a queen without a backward glance, though a small and selfish part of her wishes she hadn't. If her kits are warm and well-fed, she has nothing to fear ... But her warriors are hungry. Her apprentices are hungry. She, too, feels the sense of emptiness in her stomach, and the sluggishness that comes with it.

That sluggishness is what forces a questioning noise from her maw as her paws shuffle towards the sound of Fluffypaw's voice. The upwards pitch in her meow tells of panic, which is normal for Fluffypaw even at her near-warrior's age, but as ochre eyes drift towards the tortoiseshell Orangestar's attention sharpens to a point at the sight of the small predator about to engage.

A weasel. SkyClan doesn't see them often, crafty and cruel, but perhaps it's been driven to desperation just as much as they have. Orangestar knows little about them, doesn't see worth in engaging them even now, but she advances on the little creature with her claws unsheathed and a yowl of warning leaving her throat in hopes that it would abandon its quarry and leave the Clan cats to (fruitlessly) hunt in peace.

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• // @SANGRIAPAW apprentice tag! rolled a 7, no prey for ora</3
  
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | six lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — mate to slatesnarl ; mentoring sangriapaw
  — speech is in #D2977D
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

The hunting does not improve... no matter how many times they throw themself into the pines in search of something. Today they find hope in a strong scent trail between the branches. It might be another squirrel... or maybe a bird... they're too distracted by the excitement of finally getting their paws on something to distinguish it. They race amongst the canopy to follow it, to ensure it does not get the chance to escape... pausing only when they can finally make out its shape amongst the needles. A robin... feathery but still enough to keep someone from starving.

They crouch carefully, bobbed tail twitching with anticipation... waiting... making micro-adjustments to try and better prepare to spring... And they do. The short flight through the air is satisfying, watching as the bird's wings unfold to try and escape but being too slow to escape outstretched paws. They sink their teeth into it, a triumphant purr growing loud in their chest. Finally... finally! They would not spend another cold season being a hardly passable hunter...

When they open their eyes again to look around for the rest of their patrol, they seem to be locked in a sincere fight with some sort of lengthy, ugly little thing. They abandon their prey to retrieve later, not thinking anything of it in favor of keeping their clan-mates safe. "What is that thing," they ask, clambering down to try to reach Fluffypaw and Orangestar. It's not very big... maybe between the few of them, it'd be easy enough to fight off? "Some sort of long rat?"

/rolled a 13 ! caught prey but it'll be stolen

⟡₊ ⊹ i ll betray you like a man

• 
• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 19 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back
  -- color #728c69

 

[CROWSIGHT]

Bringing back prey to soothe their bellies has been increasingly difficult. His belly aches. If he had thought it was bad a couple of sunrises ago, then he was sorely mistaken. The lack of food in his belly and the ever growing stress does little to aid him. No matter how much he tries to scent the air, or paw into snow to find some sort of trail there is none. Had his belly been a bit more full, then he would have been displeased with himself. However, he could only stare at his clanmates.

Orangestar and Fluffypaw have the same luck as him. The black smoke watches as some strange rodent(?) rushes past. Orangestar does her best to scare off the thing, but to no avail. How's Edenberry doing? By the time he turns to face his friend, he realizes a few things. The first, is that thank the stars Edenberry found something. The second, is that Edenberry proceeded to abandon it. Third, and perhaps the most devastating, is an opportunist. What does he mean by that? A stoat.

A lousy stoat decided to take a chance and run off with Edenberry's catch. Paws spring forward, "GET BACK HERE!" Claws unsheathe, as he attempts to pounce on the stoat. However, the rodent is far too fast and it doesn't help that their pelt blends with the snow perfectly. What Crowsight pounces on is snow, powdered white spraying in the air. NO! FUCK! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO BRING BACK NOW?

rolled a 2, no prey sniffs

​

 

[falcongaze]

Not far from them, Falcongaze was fighting his own battles. Seriously. He had caught something, claws hooking into that of a mouse. It was small, and awfully hard to find in this frost, but it was his. And out of nowhere, a starved bird had flown at him. It was akin to dejavu, or a bad flashback, as he ducked away from the prey that it was clearly after. A snarl left him in the bird's wake, but it was firmly gone and not returning, not since it had it's prize.

Even the birds knew better then to stick around and get injured right now. He grumbled to himself on his way back to his patrol-mates, only to come to a stop, watching a stoat and a weasel fighting them for a prey. Falcongaze's ears flattened backwards, the weight of what just happened pressing on him. Starving. They're going to go hungry. Was this what it was like, then, for his father all those moons ago? To go starving hungry, mad, in a sewer that smelled of dogshit and urine, all to feed his kits?

Worried eyes shift towards Crowsight, then back towards the sprayed power. ".. None of us are having luck." He mumbles to himself, tail twitching as he moved towards Orangestar- then leaps around her, aiming to slam down next to the weasel and battle it backwards, away from his leader. A viscous look was in his eye, one of a slowly starving animal.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── THEYRE ALL THAT I WAS ⋅❁⋅ AND NEVER COULD BE ──┐‎

• "speech"

• 

• FALCONGAZE 🌧 he/him, warrior of skyclan, twenty moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate lynx point with deep blue eyes, and a long scar on his left cheek down under his jawline. pushes his 'hair' back. very long legged, half oriental moggie.
  ⭃ mentored by greeneyes / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after lupinepaw / / brother to spottedpaw and sagepaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[SILLYBREEZE]

Sillybreeze stalks silently among the frost-coated ferns, their steps light despite the desperation gnawing at their stomach. The chill bites at their paw pads, but determination keeps them moving. The scent of prey, faint but undeniable, tingles in their nose. It's not a mouse—it's something muskier, something different. Their heart quickens as they follow the trail through the undergrowth. Pausing near a clump of brittle brambles, they catch sight of it: a shrew, small and twitchy, rummaging for food. Sillybreeze crouches low, tail curling against their flank. They watch its every move, waiting for the perfect moment. Their muscles tense, coiling like a spring, and then they leap.

The shrew tries to dart, but it's too slow. Sillybreeze lands squarely on it, pinning it with sharp claws. A swift bite ends its struggle. Relief floods them as they lift their catch. It's small, but it's food—and right now, anything matters. Just as they begin to turn back toward the patrol, movement catches their eye. Their clanmates are facing down a weasel, its long, sinewy body writhing as it challenges Fluffypaw and Orangestar. Sillybreeze hesitates for a heartbeat, then buries their prey in the snow for safekeeping. They charge toward the scuffle, ears flattened and fur bristling. "Need some help?" they call, their voice edged with adrenaline. They skid to a halt beside Falcongaze, ready to face the snarling predator alongside their clanmates.

[ rolled a 20, then a 3 for size ]​

 

[GREENEYES]

Fluffypaw is growing into a more confident apprentice, and for that Greeneyes finds relief. He'll always be proud of his niece, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been growing concerned with her training over the past few moons. The tom's glad that she's finally been able to make her first catch, and he can see the boost she's gained from it.

Even still, he can't help but to be surprised as she detaches from his side, as he remembers that she's no longer the small kit he'd been tasked with teaching. He can sense her frustrations growing, and Greeneyes flicks his tail across her flank in encouragement. " Trust your senses, " he tries to remind her, because he can smell something, somewhere. " We'll split off here, okay? "

The ginger tabby turns, following the scent he'd caught, and it isn't long before he finds a mouse and strikes it with a killing blow. The tom moves to pick it up, but it's Fluffypaw's voice he hears — a warning made not too far away. Malachite gaze looks up in search of her, only to find a distant form flanked by something else, something long-bodied and brown and...

His gaze flickers back to his catch, only to find it gone. His eyes grow wide and he hears the rustling of foliage nearby — a narrow escape by another long-bodied creature. The clan will be without an extra meal, but his apprentice is more important right now. " Fluffypaw! " he calls out to her, body twisting to run toward the patchworked feline, the weasel aiming to strike her. He won't let anything happen to her — he can't.

// rolled an 8 — prey is stolen :( + 0 points