-Spitfire-
The she crouched down a few mouse tails away from Storm, this was her favorite time to hunt. The mourning, not too hot not too cold. A cool wind sent shivers down her sine as she crouched with her paw, claws unsheathed above the water. A small creek chub swim by slowly. Spitfire tensed for the right moment to strike...bam! Her paw went blasting through the waters surface. The fishes fin was caught between her paw and the muddy bottom of the river. She jumped in after it, for the water was calm today. The fish struggled and ripped it's fin trying to get away from her claws, the fish freed itself from her grasp and swam away frantically.
"Dang it!" she grumbled.
@
WhitesilverQueen