pafp well, actually ˚₊ tactics

Mar 16, 2024
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The length of time for which his forehead had been pinched in a look of unimpressed uncertainty was sure to leave wrinkles if continued for much longer. He stares at his peer with a sense of disagreement wiggling at his ears; these are mostly just semantics at this point and he's more than willing to humor them to a degree. But Runningrain's been talking about it for awhile now and he is less and less sure it will ever end... It's a lot more detailed than he'd originally thought.

"I've never really used the failed tunneling projects as intentional dead ends for rabbits," he comments, flicking an ear as if the motion might act like a recall mechanism for later when out exploring the moors for prey. "Have you ever caught a pheasant? I wonder if you could apply some of those ideas to a bigger bird.... they take so long to take off to fly, we'd have to use the brush to our advantage." It only it weren't so sparse in some places... and pheasants more common prey. Never hurt to get some advice from your clan-mates and strategize... Old cats can learn new tricks (he would argue he's not terribly old anyways but.. the point stands).

@runningrain
 
The long legged female stops her rant for a moment as she uses a paw to rub her chin. "Mm, yes, the failed tunnel projects are great to trapping rabbits. Rabbits scurry into their dens or hard to reach areas, so they'll take the risk to hiding into them if it means not becoming a meal." Runningrain would state as she ponders on the idea of the tunneling projects as herbivores especially rabbits were skittish and dug holes which they often would race to if they sensed a predator or to escape from potential hunters. The tom-cat's next question gets a nod from the female as she nods her head.

"Pheasants? Hmm... I noticed they love to stride across the moors," Runningrain stops for a moment and perhaps Grackelstep can realize that he is about to get his ears talked off. "Typically it's best to approach them by a blind spot and move silently as possible, however, if you're spotted then use as much strength in your hind legs to pounce in the air and catch it before it gets enough air time." The cream cameo would respond as her orange eyes close for a moment to envision it, a paw raising to the air as curved claws unsheathe.

"Snag your claw in the feathers and bring it down, and go for the neck but if you can't then break the wings by using the pressure of your bite so it can't escape." The cream colored she-cat would respond as she glances at Gracklestep for a step, her nose scrunching slightly and a long sprunkly tail wrapping around her paws. Despite being quite the introvert, she would yap a storm if it was about something that interest her or requiring anything logical.

"speech", thoughts, attacking
 
AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — Rattleheart was, admittedly, pretty far from a talkative tom. While he was more than happy to offer his voice during a council meeting or chatter about the goings-on within Windclan, he was rarely ever the one to initiate such conversations. The tunneler tended towards being a listener, content with nodding along and providing occasional comments when prompted. He had done so many times in the past with his siblings, and the habit had continued even long after joining Windclan - it even applied to conversations with his mate. Though Venomstrike was always trying to encourage him to offer up more of his own thoughts.

Needless to say, he and Runningrain were two opposite sides of the spectrum in this particular case, though his silence was also partially for practical reasons. His voice had been more of a rasp than anything smooth since his birth, and the havoc that yellowcough had once wreaked on his body had done nothing to help in that department. While he was no longer sheepish about the sound of his own voice, he knew it wasn't overly pleasant on the ears, and he preferred not to make it worse - meaning he was quiet most of the time if he could help it. He found himself wondering if Gracklestep was somehow similar, or if the warrior had just been yanked into a conversation he was rapidly being outclassed in. It seemed more the latter, considering Rattleheart had never noticed his voice being anything but smooth.

Drawn over from his nearby solo patrol by the sound of Runningrain's voice, the monochrome lead's head tilted curiously over to one side as he listened in on her instructions. "I'm surprised you know so much about hunting pheasants. They make good prey, but... they're admittedly more uncommon than I'm sure any of us would like them to be." His own familiar hoarseness broke through the air, a stark contrast to Runningrain's - admittedly helpful - ongoing babbling. "Though I guess I rarely ever got the chance to see them before joining Windclan, either. Do you know some twolegs like to keep them?" Like the chickens and their calls that had once served as Sootstar's death knell. Suddenly, he was extremely grateful he had never tried breaking into any of the pheasant pens back then.


  • 75034712_8183RsjuzqJmQXv.png
    longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    50 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    currently mentoring downypaw
    somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
    all opinions are ic
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── "I imagine there is little twolegs do not keep," Wolfsong comments after temporarily lowering his bundle of raspberry leaves. Truth be told, he had overheard Runningrain some distance away, clearly passionate about the current topic and possibly oblivious to Gracklestep's patience. Wolfsong can be verbose himself, though he takes greater pleasure in the inherent exchange of a conversation, rather than a selfish monologue; however, he doubts Runningrain would maintain something so one-sided out of vanity or egoism. This is simply a subject she knows quite thoroughly.

"I wonder if they permit it as kittypets do— though they do not strike me as intelligent creatures."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
Twolegs like to keep pheasants? They were such strange creatures, and Runningrain couldn't comprehend how they did things or the motives behind it. "Do they? I wouldn't be surprised if they did, I've heard different tales about twolegs and the things they keep. I wonder if they just want to be in control?" The tall woman would ponder for a moment as she rubs a paw on her chin as Rattleheart and Wolfsong made their way over. She settles down on her haunches as long tail curls around her paws, dipping her head in greeting to the lead warrior and the medicine cat.

"I believe I've heard a former kittypet talking about their twoleg owning an adder before. They're quite the strange creatures." Runningrain would murmur after the medicine cat's statement, pondering how dangerous an adder was to a twoleg as they were deadly to their species.
━ "speech"​
 
"A cornered rabbit risks a kick, does it not?" His tail flicks in caution, gaze uncertain as he comes upon the group. His attention does not focus on the talk of pheasants or adders, not even kittypets, but the maze beneath the tunnel and the powerful, harshly clawed feet that he has seen lash out against the faces of foolish warriors. A way to earn a scar, certainly! But he would hardly call it worthy of a tactic. "Cornered beasts know that they must fight, or face their death. At least when they are running, rabbits put more energy into moving forward than fending you off from behind." A beat of contemplation. "I suppose the same could be said of a bird, but they have much more room to flee us. And I do not think they would enjoy time beneath the tunnels." The flame-painted warrior rests beside Wolfsong for but a moment, choosing to casually lean upon the healer's side.

"Do you remember the horses?" he huffs near his mate's ear, nudging accusingly into his cheek. "Speaking of strange beasts that the twolegs keep. I cannot go near them again after that."
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  • OOC.
  • sun_icon_new2.png
    SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  
    ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.

    TH ╱╱ A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES
 
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Rattleheart sheds some interesting 'fun facts' about Twolegs and their bizarre world of whimsy and weirdness. To keep a bird as a pet seems completely asinine when the option to eat it is far more sensible and delicious. He wishes those damnable things were more common, would love to have some of that lean, savory flesh to sink his teeth into as a refreshing break from the gamey tendons of rabbits but...

There's little point in daydreaming for prey to fall into one's paws.

"Maybe then... not a dead end," he agrees with a wariness to the suggestion that the fleeing fowl might turn and peck out his eyes as a last stand. "I would very much like to continue to see what I'm chasing...." While he doesn't think being blind is an inherent telling of permanent uselessness, he does think he is getting to be a little too... experienced... with having his sight to suddenly have it pried away.

"At least the land prey are more predictable than the fish... and the Twolegs for that matter," both remain an enigma under watchful dandelion eyes.​