T
twilightpaw
Guest
BUT MY PLANS ALWAYS CHANGING ⋆⁺₊⋆
The colder the weather the more hunting patrols Twilightpaw is assigned to, it seems, and today is certainly no exception. Tromping along through the snow behind the rest of his clanmates, the apprentice attempts to fluff out his short fur, seeking some sort of respite from the chill, though it seems his efforts are in vain thanks to dusting of snow blanketing the ground. They need prey to survive Leaf-bare - he knows this, of course, but at times it just seems so futile when the ground is so hard-packed, when it's a treat for him to even spot prey, let alone catch it. Times like these, it seems much more preferable to just not leave his nest at all in the morning, savoring the last bits of warm sleep. And yet, still he finds himself falling into step, casting his gaze about the marsh as if he's actually going to spot anything. Even if he's not particularly interested in freezing his tail off out here, the only difference between being on patrol and being at camp is that at least Twilightpaw is moving around on the patrol, keeping his blood flowing. At the very least, it's probably slightly warmer than if he were in camp - unless, of course, he were tucked away into the apprentice's den, though he can't very well hide in there for long before somebody'd show up to drag him back out to his duties, which would be so much more of a hassle. No, really, being on the hunting patrol isn't as bad as it might seem, though at the same time it is still a bit hard to reason with how cold his toes feel.
With the cold at the forefront of his thoughts, it's surprising that Twilightpaw catches a scent at all, even more so when he realizes that no one else seems to have noticed it, either. Slowing his gait, the apprentice tries to focus, unsure whether or not he's just imagining it, but no, it's still there - the smell of a bird, a snipe, he thinks. A bit hidden beneath the sharpness of the cold, but real nonetheless. Throwing another glance to the rest of the hunting patrol to confirm that there really isn't anyone else already heading after it, he reluctantly begins to make his way after the scent, dropping to a crouch despite the way the snow tickles at his belly. Pretty quickly he's able to spot the bird, feebly pecking around the ground in search of some sort of meal. The hunger gnawing at his own belly prompts Twilightpaw to approach ever-so-carefully, for once taking extra care not to scare it off before he can get close enough to strike. Just a bit closer, and then - the snipe suddenly perks up, head swiveling in his direction, and the apprentice mutters a curse as he explodes forward, trying to reach it before it can get away. Paws outstretched, he can almost feel his claws tearing into tender flesh when he feels a paw hook on something, some gnarled root hidden by the snow, and instead of meeting prey he's suddenly meeting the ground, plunging face-first into the snow. The force of his sudden burst sends him rolling a few paw-lengths, snow clinging to his pelt as he finally skids to a stop, lying motionless from the shock for a few moments. Hardly deep, the snow had at least cushioned Twilightpaw's fall enough that he didn't have any serious scrapes, though it's hard to tell for the extra white spotting that now covers his pelt. Slowly pushing himself to a sitting position, he can't quite bring himself to search for the bird that's surely gone by now, instead observing the pattern left from his wipeout as well as sparing a glance at his own now-frosted fur. It's...not the first time he's found himself covered in snow like this, but at least last time he had actually caught something - this time, all he's left with is a sneeze from the snow tickling his nose.
// pls wait for @CHILLEDGAZE. to post first! <3
The colder the weather the more hunting patrols Twilightpaw is assigned to, it seems, and today is certainly no exception. Tromping along through the snow behind the rest of his clanmates, the apprentice attempts to fluff out his short fur, seeking some sort of respite from the chill, though it seems his efforts are in vain thanks to dusting of snow blanketing the ground. They need prey to survive Leaf-bare - he knows this, of course, but at times it just seems so futile when the ground is so hard-packed, when it's a treat for him to even spot prey, let alone catch it. Times like these, it seems much more preferable to just not leave his nest at all in the morning, savoring the last bits of warm sleep. And yet, still he finds himself falling into step, casting his gaze about the marsh as if he's actually going to spot anything. Even if he's not particularly interested in freezing his tail off out here, the only difference between being on patrol and being at camp is that at least Twilightpaw is moving around on the patrol, keeping his blood flowing. At the very least, it's probably slightly warmer than if he were in camp - unless, of course, he were tucked away into the apprentice's den, though he can't very well hide in there for long before somebody'd show up to drag him back out to his duties, which would be so much more of a hassle. No, really, being on the hunting patrol isn't as bad as it might seem, though at the same time it is still a bit hard to reason with how cold his toes feel.
With the cold at the forefront of his thoughts, it's surprising that Twilightpaw catches a scent at all, even more so when he realizes that no one else seems to have noticed it, either. Slowing his gait, the apprentice tries to focus, unsure whether or not he's just imagining it, but no, it's still there - the smell of a bird, a snipe, he thinks. A bit hidden beneath the sharpness of the cold, but real nonetheless. Throwing another glance to the rest of the hunting patrol to confirm that there really isn't anyone else already heading after it, he reluctantly begins to make his way after the scent, dropping to a crouch despite the way the snow tickles at his belly. Pretty quickly he's able to spot the bird, feebly pecking around the ground in search of some sort of meal. The hunger gnawing at his own belly prompts Twilightpaw to approach ever-so-carefully, for once taking extra care not to scare it off before he can get close enough to strike. Just a bit closer, and then - the snipe suddenly perks up, head swiveling in his direction, and the apprentice mutters a curse as he explodes forward, trying to reach it before it can get away. Paws outstretched, he can almost feel his claws tearing into tender flesh when he feels a paw hook on something, some gnarled root hidden by the snow, and instead of meeting prey he's suddenly meeting the ground, plunging face-first into the snow. The force of his sudden burst sends him rolling a few paw-lengths, snow clinging to his pelt as he finally skids to a stop, lying motionless from the shock for a few moments. Hardly deep, the snow had at least cushioned Twilightpaw's fall enough that he didn't have any serious scrapes, though it's hard to tell for the extra white spotting that now covers his pelt. Slowly pushing himself to a sitting position, he can't quite bring himself to search for the bird that's surely gone by now, instead observing the pattern left from his wipeout as well as sparing a glance at his own now-frosted fur. It's...not the first time he's found himself covered in snow like this, but at least last time he had actually caught something - this time, all he's left with is a sneeze from the snow tickling his nose.
// pls wait for @CHILLEDGAZE. to post first! <3
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