- Feb 20, 2023
- 324
- 89
- 28
[ cw for graphic descriptions/blood/gore ]
Leafbare had arrived. It was now more crucial than ever to hunt and stock the fresh-kill pile ( but then again, Snakehiss would ensure that his own belly never grew hollow ). At the first falling of snow, plenty of creatures had scurried away into their seasonal dens, causing the moors to be more sparse than usual. Rabbits and hares, on the other paw, did not disappear in leafbare. Obtaining their juicy meat was absolutely critical for WindClan's sake; Snakehiss' mouth began to water at the very thought of biting into it.
The thin-legged moor runner and his apprentice found themselves near the Thunderpath; no longer their border, as Highstones was now WindClan land as well, but still a line that Snakehiss tended to remain a good distance away from. Monsters roared back and forth, spitting out white powder in their wake and making a mess of things as usual. Their acrid breath tainted the crisp, wintry air, prompting Snakehiss' nose to wrinkle with distaste.
Monster stink was not the only stench wafting into the air — blood as well. It was fresh. Snakehiss' attention was stolen away from Rivepaw, stepping through the snow lightly littering the ground and leaving her to either continue her own hunt or follow. At the Thunderpath's edge was a crimson-soaked rabbit, limbs mangled and barely managing to crawl forth toward the safety of the moorland. This creature was on death's nestside, any essence of life slowly draining from its feeble bones. Judging by its blood trail, it had been struck by a passing monster. What must it be like, to survive an attack by a creature much more powerful than a cat?
A morbid curiosity prods Snakehiss' mind. What did death look like at the gigantic paws of a monster, a force unstoppable?
Speaking of which, a distant roar announced itself, with glowing yellow eyes streaking down the path. Without a second to waste, the warrior took the half-alive rabbit into his jaws and chucked it onto the road, directly into the trodden trail of the twoleg-carrying beasts. Snakehiss ducked back to shield himself from the monster's fury, though his viridian gaze never lifted from the trembling rabbit as it weakly attempted to crawl away.
Splat.
In an instant, the monster was gone, and the rabbit had been left flattened into the ground. Whatever was left of the creature was tattered and bloodied, its lifeless eyes bulging out of its cranium. Images of the rogue battle bombard his brain — Sparkspirit, blood, a body gone cold, pale eyes.
Pensively, grimly, contemplative, he could only stare.
Leafbare had arrived. It was now more crucial than ever to hunt and stock the fresh-kill pile ( but then again, Snakehiss would ensure that his own belly never grew hollow ). At the first falling of snow, plenty of creatures had scurried away into their seasonal dens, causing the moors to be more sparse than usual. Rabbits and hares, on the other paw, did not disappear in leafbare. Obtaining their juicy meat was absolutely critical for WindClan's sake; Snakehiss' mouth began to water at the very thought of biting into it.
The thin-legged moor runner and his apprentice found themselves near the Thunderpath; no longer their border, as Highstones was now WindClan land as well, but still a line that Snakehiss tended to remain a good distance away from. Monsters roared back and forth, spitting out white powder in their wake and making a mess of things as usual. Their acrid breath tainted the crisp, wintry air, prompting Snakehiss' nose to wrinkle with distaste.
Monster stink was not the only stench wafting into the air — blood as well. It was fresh. Snakehiss' attention was stolen away from Rivepaw, stepping through the snow lightly littering the ground and leaving her to either continue her own hunt or follow. At the Thunderpath's edge was a crimson-soaked rabbit, limbs mangled and barely managing to crawl forth toward the safety of the moorland. This creature was on death's nestside, any essence of life slowly draining from its feeble bones. Judging by its blood trail, it had been struck by a passing monster. What must it be like, to survive an attack by a creature much more powerful than a cat?
A morbid curiosity prods Snakehiss' mind. What did death look like at the gigantic paws of a monster, a force unstoppable?
Speaking of which, a distant roar announced itself, with glowing yellow eyes streaking down the path. Without a second to waste, the warrior took the half-alive rabbit into his jaws and chucked it onto the road, directly into the trodden trail of the twoleg-carrying beasts. Snakehiss ducked back to shield himself from the monster's fury, though his viridian gaze never lifted from the trembling rabbit as it weakly attempted to crawl away.
Splat.
In an instant, the monster was gone, and the rabbit had been left flattened into the ground. Whatever was left of the creature was tattered and bloodied, its lifeless eyes bulging out of its cranium. Images of the rogue battle bombard his brain — Sparkspirit, blood, a body gone cold, pale eyes.
Pensively, grimly, contemplative, he could only stare.
- apprentice tag @rivepaw
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✰ SNAKEHISS
—— he/him; moor runner of windclan
—— bisexual; single; not looking
—— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
—— "speech", thoughts, attack
—— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
—— penned by beatles