pafp what's your rush? || hunting

[leopardtongue]

☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── | When Leopardtongue had been asked to host a hunting patrol, she had been reluctant at first to ask too many to go with her, considering she didn't want to go out herself. She knew that they needed the food, yes, but she also knew that there were boars that were hard to outrun. After a bit of going out by herself quickly first, she finally found a spot in the territory she felt was safe enough, just in case. When she had come back and chosen the cats that were to go with her, she made sure to let them know where they were going to start the hunt at, just in case they got separated somehow. Luckily nothing happened on their way there, and she slowed down before coming to a stop in the area, ears pricked to begin listening to the surrounding area to see which direction they'd go next.

// @STORMYPAW @batwing @LITTLE WOLF (wait for one person who's tagged to post before posting!)​

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[batwing]

Hunting. It was simple, compared to the border patrols coming face to face with other clans. Of course it was a bit tense whenever they did. But Leopardtongue was making this fairly simple for all of them. Move to the indicated spot, hunt, return. It was nearly mindless for Batwing, and part of him was glad that he had the opportunity to go out with the rest of them.

He trailed along after Leopardtongue, a glance over his shoulder to see if the others were still with them- no surprise boar attacks here. He looked back forward, and slowed alongside the other warrior. He lowered his head down, mouth parting slightly and ears perked as he attempted to listen for prey in the undergrowth- or perhaps in the trees above. He glanced up at the trunks now, hoping Leopardtongue wasn't reading his mind about getting an aerial view. ​

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"speech"​

 

[LITTLE WOLF]

It feels nice to be with such a familiar face, at least, that’s what’s running through Little Wolfs thoughts as they make their way through the boar-infested forest. Leopardtongue had been born into the marsh group after she had. She had watched the spotted molly grow, had done some growing herself in the time that they had known one another. Still, she is happy to spend time with those she considers friends and thus when she was recruited to go out hunting there would be no complaints coming from her mouth. As long as they were careful, everything should be okay.

She follows at the rear of their little group, her nose lifted in the air and her jaws slightly parted when all of a sudden she hears a rustling sound in the brush. Tiny feet scurrying and giving away what and where her prey was. With her long black tail flicking steadily behind her, she drops into a hunters crouch and stealthily stalks forward, passing her tongue along her upper lip before she pounces. "Got it!" she exclaims softly to herself after dispatching the mouse. Instinctively, she looks up to see if Ragwortpaw was watching before she remembers and the excitement she had felt earlier quickly shrivels away as she realizes oh right. There was no more Ragwortpaw, excitedly trailing her on these outings. No more apprentice pestering her about snake-rocks or asking questions she had already answered a thousand times. She lets out a sad sigh but is determined not to let it weigh her down too terribly much. Instead, she simply picks up her kill and rejoins the others.

Not wanting to be too loud, she waits until she draws nearer before opening her mouth. "You two have any luck yet?" she asks as she sets her own catch between her paws.
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[leopardtongue]

☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── | Everyone had their own way of hunting. Some - like Batwing - liked having a higher view of the forest, others liked keeping all their paws on the ground and got really good at keeping their paw steps quiet on the leaves. Leopardtongue's style was closer to the latter of the two, preferring to stay closer to the ground. She'd climb trees and go through them when needed, but she was always worried about snapping branches, and would much rather stay low enough on the trees that she'd be able to catch herself with minimal injuries in the unlikely event that a branch did snap underneath her. So she wasn't even thinking of going into the trees when Batwing had, though knowing him she knew it likely he'd want to climb up that way, which was fine. They were here to catch whatever they could and head back before it got too late, and whatever way was best for each member on her patrol she was fine with.

She took a moment to listen to make sure she wouldn't head in the same direction as another member of her party, not wanting to scare off the prey they were tracking on accident. She heard as Little Wolf head off, and then when she came back, and Leopardtongue nod her head, moving it to point in the direction she was facing. "I'm going to head that way, I think I can hear something." She'd offer the other warrior a smile, her own way of letting her clanmate know that she had a nice catch.

Leopardtongue listened once more before heading off in her own direction, maw open to take in the scent around her, pausing as she saw and could smell a bird in front of her. It was a wood pigeon, a silly creature that Leopardtongue didn't understand how they had survived this long. They always seemed to fly off at the last second, not caring that they were being hunted until it was too late. Of course, they weren't always caught, but it was often enough for Leopardtongue to know what to expect in this case. Crouching down, she crept forward, pausing when the pigeon looked up for a moment before going back to rooting before she pounced, landing on top of the bird and killing it quickly and coming back.​

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[batwing]

Leopardtongue didn't say anything or give him indication of not hunting in the treetops, so his shoulders relaxed just a bit. He did like it up there, after all. It was like a giant jungle gym, not that he knew what those were, and found it the most enjoyable exercise he could get. His vision shifted to watch the two mollie's as they moved. "Not yet, Little Wolf." He flashed her a grin. "Good catch yourself, though!" With that, the tom turned, stretching his body up. With skilled claws and paw placements, Batwing leapt and pulled himself up into the trees.

From here, he could peer down and forward. Squirrels and birds favored the trees- voles, mice, at the base of them. Unlike his night runs, he was taking this at a much slower pace. Stretching his limbs out, carefully walking along the strongest branches. His ears perked, and tail still, he stalked until the sound of chittering reached his ears.

Batwing fell still upon that indication, his head turning. A squirrel, if his ears were any kind of use. He traced the sound until his eyes found it. They had just perched upon a branch when he turned his head, and a grin split on his muzzle. Batwing turned, careful not to shake the brush of the tree, before spurring into action. Claws dug into the branch as he snapped his jaws around his prey, catching it successfully. He shifted to the lower branches and gracefully landed, padding back to the camp. A fat squirrel sat proudly in his jaws, tail swaying behind him. ​

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"speech"​