The warrior watched Nightshiver move silently, slightly impressed by how fluid she was, however a small smirk crossed his face as he watched the awkward finishing motions. However, she did it! This was a totally different feline from the one he first met. She had improved and he finally witnessed her providing for her clan.
"Nice job!" the tom rose up to his full height as a purr erupted from his throat. There was a totally different appearance to him, one that only Vixensnarl or young kits really saw. His green eyes were bright and his tail was high. He didn't take the appearance of a 'normal' ShadowClan cat. "I knew you could do it, that's why I stayed back," there was a smile playing on the toms face as he studied Nightshiver for a moment.
"Think we can grab some more?" he inquired with a raised brow.
Hawkbite's enthusiasm was a rather foreign sight to the molly; not just for the warrior himself, but in general. She'd only seen this kind of glee in kittens and the occasional apprentice, though never a warrior. It was... An oddly strange yet nice sight; she didn't mind the enthusiasm, strange as it was. Prey still in maw, she gave an awkward smile. She felt a little warm all of sudden, likely due to a slight embarrassment at the sudden praise, another element she hadn't experienced since... Stormlily, her mentor moons ago. Stars, it felt like a lifetime ago since she last saw the molly. So much had happened.
Burying the little critter she'd caught so they could peacefully hunt more, Nightshiver gave a shy nod. "It is.. your.. turn"
She dared meow, a light muse to her turn as her eyes crinkled with a light grin. This was nice. Just peaceful hunting with, perhaps, a friend? If he truly wasn't out here to test her, then she dared think that perhaps this could be a friend; the thought was nice, if worrying. She hadn't had a friend in moons. They always disappeared. Would he too, now? Ah, silly her. She caught herself before her mind went to far, distracting herself by turning and casting a look around. "Smell.. anything?"
A kit is in ShadowClan territory. He is called Shade, and is discovered by Tigerfang. Shade's mother is nowhere to be seen, so Tigerfang takes him to Dawnstar to she what she wants to do about it.
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"Do you and Barley have kits?" - Bella
Whiteheart gasped in shock, the pain washing over him. And with the air he inhaled, he sensed something else. Something that signaled possible doom. Whiteheart grew cold, panic creeping up on him.
The fox had returned.
Terror sparked through him. "Fox!" he screeched, his voice rasping and painfully tearing at his throat wounds. The stench was intoxicating, mingled with the smell of cat blood.
Except... It was all in Whiteheart's mind. The scent was from his surroundings, however, a fox crept out from a bush. And yet, it wasn't there. His injuries had made him hallucinate, and his mind was spinning, memories turning into a fake reality.
[Okay so make sure you make a healing request if you haven't already. Gotta do that before I can have Dawnstar drop him in the med den.]
"You fool stop that!" Dawnstar spat loudly as Whiteheart immediately squirmed like a fiend trying to run from something that wasn't even there. He was making his wounds worse. She reached out with a large paw in an attempt to push Whiteheart down and keep him still. The leader could smell the fresh scent of the fox and maybe a badger, but neither one was here now. She would have rethought her approach if two of those things were here.
"You've lost too much blood, and I need to get you to Elmshadow." Dawnstar meowed, uncertain if the warrior was even seeing or hearing her. She was not interested in getting nipped or clawed by the delirious warrior, so attempted to grab him by his scruff and haul him up with her.
Whiteheart blurted out a snarl, blindly attempting to bite the thing that pushed him into the dirt, oblivious of his wounds. The imaginary fox crept closer and closer, and he convulsed under the force holding him down, attempting to claw it off
Hawkbite's enthusiasm was a rather foreign sight to the molly; not just for the warrior himself, but in general. She'd only seen this kind of glee in kittens and the occasional apprentice, though never a warrior. It was... An oddly strange yet nice sight; she didn't mind the enthusiasm, strange as it was. Prey still in maw, she gave an awkward smile. She felt a little warm all of sudden, likely due to a slight embarrassment at the sudden praise, another element she hadn't experienced since... Stormlily, her mentor moons ago. Stars, it felt like a lifetime ago since she last saw the molly. So much had happened.
Burying the little critter she'd caught so they could peacefully hunt more, Nightshiver gave a shy nod. "It is.. your.. turn"
She dared meow, a light muse to her turn as her eyes crinkled with a light grin. This was nice. Just peaceful hunting with, perhaps, a friend? If he truly wasn't out here to test her, then she dared think that perhaps this could be a friend; the thought was nice, if worrying. She hadn't had a friend in moons. They always disappeared. Would he too, now? Ah, silly her. She caught herself before her mind went to far, distracting herself by turning and casting a look around. "Smell.. anything?"
The tom remained in his happy state until she suggested he gave it a try. With a quick nod, he turned slightly, testing the air. He could tell there was a vole nearby. With a quick flick of his tail, he signaled he was onto something before he dropped into a crouch and followed the scent slowly. It was teasingly close.
It didn't take long to spot the small creature doing what voles do, scavenging. With a quick pounce, Hawkbite found the vole beneath his paws, he bit the back of its neck and turned to head back to Nightshiver, prey in mouth. His tail was high with triumph.
"We did good tonight," Hawkbite mused as he got back into earshot. His voice was quiet, in case others were nearby hunting, it'd be rude to disturb the prey. "Shall we head back with this? I'll grab us a bite from the prey pile and perhaps we can enjoy the stars that'll be shining soon? I know you have the nursery to take care of so I won't hold you out much longer," Hawkbite suggested, looking to Nightshiver for input.
Quickbite of shadowclan he/they/vey || CLOSED || 222 words
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Crunch. Snap. Crunch. The pine needled crackled underpaw of the figure, moving silently and effortlessly through the brightening woods. Nothing like an early morning hunt to stretch the limbs and awaken the groggy mind from its night long slumber. The greu figure paused mid-step, nose turned to the sky. Rain. The air smelt of the anticipated shower. The ground was already damp from the night. What a shame, then. Prey would be hiding away in their burrows, warm from the biting cold and safe from the claws of predators.
The warrior continued their journey. If not a successful hunt, then a morning stroll, as the forest was dead of sound and scent of game. Quickbite was a tall and slender cat, bright orange eyes reflecting in the dark when the smallest and weakest of light penetrated above and shone down, granting quick peeks of his sleek, silver pelt.
The cat stopped a second time, narrowing veir eyes. Was that the faint scuttle of another cat, or soon to be fresh kill held within his powerful jaws? The strong scent of the upcoming downpour, and the wet, musty pine made it difficult for him to tell. Mayb it was company. Hopefully not pathetic, lazy, loud company. Amber, flame orange eyes peered into the dark, moving carefully forwards towards the direction of the noise.
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key italics > illustrates sounds or thoughts bold > highlights spoken text by quickbite strike > spoken text by others
Last edited by bugboymars; June 28th, 2023 at 05:38 AM.
Quickbite of shadowclan he/they/vey || OPEN || 222 words
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Crunch. Snap. Crunch. The pine needled crackled underpaw of the figure, moving silently and effortlessly through the brightening woods. Nothing like an early morning hunt to stretch the limbs and awaken the groggy mind from its night long slumber. The greu figure paused mid-step, nose turned to the sky. Rain. The air smelt of the anticipated shower. The ground was already damp from the night. What a shame, then. Prey would be hiding away in their burrows, warm from the biting cold and safe from the claws of predators.
The warrior continued their journey. If not a successful hunt, then a morning stroll, as the forest was dead of sound and scent of game. Quickbite was a tall and slender cat, bright orange eyes reflecting in the dark when the smallest and weakest of light penetrated above and shone down, granting quick peeks of his sleek, silver pelt.
The cat stopped a second time, narrowing veir eyes. Was that the faint scuttle of another cat, or soon to be fresh kill held within his powerful jaws? The strong scent of the upcoming downpour, and the wet, musty pine made it difficult for him to tell. Mayb it was company. Hopefully not pathetic, lazy, loud company. Amber, flame orange eyes peered into the dark, moving carefully forwards towards the direction of the noise.
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key italics > illustrates sounds or thoughts bold > highlights spoken text by quickbite strike > spoken text by others
His small paws padded forward and forward. Without noticing, Shadowlily strawed away from walking straight and curved right. When he does notice, he took note of it and kept strolling, looking for an exceptional spot to hunt in. His eyes sighted ahead. Soon his feet curved to the left. Once he realized what he was doing, he stopped and picked up his paws back to the right. "But it would be weird to not stay to the left. Time won't be wasted much if I kept going, right?" He murmured to himself. "Yes, I supposed you're right."
So the pale tom listened to his verbal thoughts and placed his paws back, keeping to the left side. Soon, his ears flickered, sure that they heard some other cat hunting. His nose did no favor, as the scents of the forest and the pines covered up the truth scents of something there.
He slowed his trod, inching his neck forward till his blue eyes captured the thing that made such noise. He completely stopped when he spotted the gray coat of Quickbite. He gave a friendly greeting-smile. A gesture that Shadowlily was taught was kind. It felt awkward, as if the smile was not genuine. His cold stare betrayed his cheerfulness. But he imagined that he was cheerful at seeing a clanmate, even if it felt faded. That doesn't make him awful if it was faded, right? He went to bed too late; tiredness must've taken away his too-happy energy.
Char Site updated (10/11/22), added Blazingpaw and Goldenkit!
During most or few roleplays, I will do a flashback that was conjured in my characters' thoughts. Please do not respond to the flashback unless you have the power to read minds or smth.
NIGHTHOUND
huge, dark grey tabby tom with orange eyes and many scars. he/him
Nighthound remained perched in the darkness, pelt blending into the shadows. His orange eyes were narrowed as he watched the camp, sure that nothing would get past him.
Lurking through the ground covering of pine needles and towering coniferous trees, the dark feline opened his senses to the prey present, blocking out by second nature the sharp scent of pine. He found the field of meadow saffron he'd been so near when the end had begun for Sunsetthorn and he crouched in wait. He didn't know of a plant that was poisonous and yet so readily snacked on by a mouse but it was the only conclusion he could come to after Sunsetthorn had fallen so brutally ill so quickly and after eating nothing but a fresh mouse. And so he waited. The scent of mouse and shrew and birds was most prevalent in such a meadowed area out near the Thunderclan border, and that was just the prey he was targeting on such an excursion. It wasn't long before a thrush swooped down and landed among the purple flowers and thin greenery. Elmshadow dug his claws in, patient. He wanted to allow enough time for the thrush to eat its fill but he had to pounce before it decided to move on. He let the heartbeats tick and then, as the bird began to hop, more choosy on its choice of snack, the medicine cat pounced. He landed on the bird neatly but did not give a killing bite. Instead, he lifted the bird carefully, holding its wings in close to its body and carried it to a better covered area amongst the thicker trees.
He pressed it into the ground as he released it from his mouth then carefully pulled each wing out and snapped it halfway down. The thrush squawked in a way Elmshadow had never heard before but was undeterred as he moved to the other.
He released the thrush from his physical hold but the small bird stayed where it was, the feathers on its chest rising and falling as it breathed heavily in impending shock, its wings splayed haphazardly on either side of its tiny body. But its beady eyes were bright and its head was held up. It did not try to escape, surely understanding the very basics of the futility of such an attempt. Elmshadow backed up, partially concealing himself amongst the shadows to wait. He did nothing but watch the thrush. Its breathing eventually evened, though it still made no move to attempt escape. Nothing seemed to change. Darkness was approaching, the sky changing its many shades of colors. Nothing.
Momentarily giving up on watching the thrush, Elmshadow padded back to the edge of the patch of flowers. A mouse was nibbling away on a purple petal. Elmshadow wasted no time to pounce, pinning the mouse much like he had the thrush. The mouse wouldn't be quite as easy to keep stationary as the thrush had been so he moved back to where the thrush still sat and settled down, the mouse still gripped gently in his mouth. As darkness settled, the thrush was growing increasingly more depressed and lethargic but there were none of the symptoms that had plagued Sunsetthorn. He decided to set the mouse down, having been limp since its capture and detainment in his mouth, as soon as the brown rodent was down, it hesitated, regaining its bearings, then it dashed away through the brush, lively as it'd been when he'd caught it nibbling the suspected poisonous plant. Elmshadow sat back, still studying the thrush. He didn't have a plan moving forward but in the end he stood and leaned forward, grabbing the thrush mindfully and returning to camp.
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