- Jul 15, 2022
- 218
- 35
- 28
The place Betonyfrost leads the hunting patrol is one she has been to countless times. The water here is such a depth that draws in nearly enough frogs to compete with the mosquitos that pockmark the air immediately above. It has always been a reliable spot — even for Betonyfrost's self admittedly poor hunting skills.
And right now, it is completely silent.
Betonyfrost had smelled the bear before she had set her eyes on the space, but the scent was stale enough to let her know that it had moved on sometime around dusk. At moonhigh, it should be nothing but noise here. Frogs should be croaking and night birds should be crooning and fish should be splashing the surface as they attempt to catch low flying insects. It shouldn't be silent, it shouldn't be holding its breath.
"StarClan," Betonyfrost whispers because she cannot stand how quiet it is, but cannot bring herself to break it completely.
The ground immediately surrounding the nearest pool is dug up in countless places. Black shards scatter the areas surrounding; Betonyfrost flips one with a feigned nonchalance and then flinches away when she finds the downward facing side to be a glossy white.
"StarClan," Betonyfrost says again, "These were mussels."
She had gone through a phase as a kit where she had been interested in eating them. It hadn't made sense to her as to why her clanmates would pass on prey so easy to catch. It was only after a frustrating afternoon of scraping kitten teeth over the too-tough shell that Betonyfrost had accepted that trying to chew on rocks would be just as likely to fill her belly. And here were those same shells, crushed and eaten clean.
"Is there anything these bears don't eat?"
And right now, it is completely silent.
Betonyfrost had smelled the bear before she had set her eyes on the space, but the scent was stale enough to let her know that it had moved on sometime around dusk. At moonhigh, it should be nothing but noise here. Frogs should be croaking and night birds should be crooning and fish should be splashing the surface as they attempt to catch low flying insects. It shouldn't be silent, it shouldn't be holding its breath.
"StarClan," Betonyfrost whispers because she cannot stand how quiet it is, but cannot bring herself to break it completely.
The ground immediately surrounding the nearest pool is dug up in countless places. Black shards scatter the areas surrounding; Betonyfrost flips one with a feigned nonchalance and then flinches away when she finds the downward facing side to be a glossy white.
"StarClan," Betonyfrost says again, "These were mussels."
She had gone through a phase as a kit where she had been interested in eating them. It hadn't made sense to her as to why her clanmates would pass on prey so easy to catch. It was only after a frustrating afternoon of scraping kitten teeth over the too-tough shell that Betonyfrost had accepted that trying to chew on rocks would be just as likely to fill her belly. And here were those same shells, crushed and eaten clean.
"Is there anything these bears don't eat?"
shadowclan queen | blue mackerel tabby | 20 moons | tags