[gs29513]

It was.....something. Hunting for the clan again rather than simply for herself was a foreign feeling, but one Deadmoon didn't find displeasing. For one it meant her hunting was far less restricted, as there were always plenty of hungry bellies to feed anything she did manage to catch. Although, to be fair, there was now the expectation that she would catch more than the singular rabbit it would take to feed her. Ah well. Pros and cons of all things she supposed. She had decided to head out almost immediately after arriving in camp with Rookscreech, knowing that a bit of hunting never hurt to win the clan over. After all, everyone needed to eat.

Hence her position here, fur blown back as the wind pushed against her chest. For once she was glad of her stockier-than-average(at least for Windclan) genes, keeping her anchored where some of her lighter clanmates would be whisked away. Still, heading into the dips between the hills was necessary if she was to find prey. Moving in what she remembered to be the correct moor crouch Deadmoon quickly spotted a rabbit, lunging forwards after it, her paws beating an uneven tattoo on the ground.

It wasn’t her fastest run, she was a bit out of shape, but she was able to catch up to the prey nonetheless and sink her teeth into its neck, killing it. Certainly not the cleanest kill she had ever seen, but that was a matter of course really. They couldn’t all be a clean slice through the jugular without any restraining clawmarks in the rabbits pelt. That could come later, when she had fewer things on her mind. For now she would be satisfied with this kill, muttering a swift Thank you. to Starclan before stashing the rabbit under a small overhang of rock to continue her hunt.

The next animal to fall prey to her eyes was a young hare, eyes bright as it ventured into the world for seemingly the first time. As such it was naive, unable to retreat to the shelter of its log nest fast enough to avoid her claws. It wasn’t as much of a meal as hares could be, the larger ones capable of feeding three cats, but it was certainly going to be more tender. Perhaps she should swing by the elders den with this one? Yes, that might be the thing to do. Picking up her rabbit as she began to make her way back to camp, Deadmoon let a rare smile grace her face. She was more certain than ever that she had made the right decision in going with Rookscreech. (CLOSED)