Swallowing nodded his head "if that is what you wish" he meowed respect fully. Then a joking smile came over him "but I know I will catch more prey then you!" He said joking. As he watched his patrolmate. He looked over at the northern direction. "And I will head that way." His pelt fluffed up as a guest of wind ca! e towards him.
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Last edited by Galaxy_; June 26th, 2023 at 07:53 PM.
At Swallowwing's challenge, Deadmoon whipped her head around with a soft huff, before catching sight of the smile on his maw, indicating that he was joking. I wouldn't be so sure about that! she replied, trying to keep a lightness in her tone so as not to offend. As soon as he indicated his intended direction of travel Deadmoon set off on hers, stiffening momentarily as the gust of wind hit her sideways. Windy hills seemed to have returned to living up to its name, at least for the moment.
Once she had traveled a bit away, the molly scented the air. There was a rabbit somewhere between the two of them, and another one to the south of her. There were some birds about too, as there always were, but she decided that it was best to go for the rabbit first, as the bird would return much more quickly after being disturbed. Wings gave them cockiness, she supposed. Moving towards the rabbit she made the unfortunate discovery that the wind was blowing at her back, pushing her scent towards the prey. With this in mind it wasn't much of a surprise when the rabbit took off with her still a good distance away, and while she gave chase, she was not the fleetest member of the clan, and the rabbit was able to make a good escape.
Deciding that the birds might be a bit easier, seeing as they didn't have much of a sense of smell, Deadmoon made her way back a bit northward before dropping into a crouch when she spotted a wren. The wind was still blowing her scent every which way, but she was sufficiently quiet and patient that she was close enough to leap after the bird and catch it when her tail did rustle the grass and cause it to take flight. It wasn't the cleanest kill, her claws had pierced the wing, but the bird was, undoubtedly dead. While she perhaps ought to head back to their meeting point soon, the scent of a second rabbit was too good to pass up.
This time, Deadmoon took great care to make her way behind the creature, so that her scent would blow behind her, and its towards her, barring any sudden wind changes. As she began her approach all seemed well, her prey content to nibble on some grass rather than pay attention to its surroundings. Unfortunately, the wind chose that time to switch directions, forcing her to begin the chase early. This time, however, the rabbit was slower, and she had been closer when it began running. It took a bit longer than she might have liked, but Deadmoon did chase down the rabbit, swinging a paw at it and unbalancing it just before it could dive into its hole, and finishing the kill from there.
Carrying the rabbit back to where she had left the wren, Deadmoon carried both of her pieces of prey back to the higher hill where she and Swallowwing had split. While there was a good chance she hadn't won their informal contest, three things could easily have been caught in the time it had taken her to catch two, she was pretty pleased with her haul. The rabbit was decently large, if a bit old, and the wren wasn't too badly mangled. As long as Swallowwing had been decently successful, they shouldn't have any problems with Fallownose. @Cheesy da Cheese
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Swallowing trotted back with to small mouses in his jaw. "Sorry it isn't Kuch." He mumbled around the prey.(sorry short replies until I get my computer back)
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Re: Windy Hills
A large Calico Tom kittypet, approximately 30 moons of age, padded through the territory. "This place is pretty neat." He purred, before lying down and falling asleep. This was Skaarr, and he had just found a great place to sleep.
Deadmoon was pleased to see Swallowwing rejoining her soon after she'd reached their splitting point, and rather selfishly doubly pleased to see that he hadn't managed to outdo her. Two bits of fresh-kill each each was certainly a decent haul, and she gave the tom a swift smile before mewing Well, I suppose it's a draw. We'd better head back. They'd been out for a fair amount of time, and Fallownose was likely wondering where on earth they had gotten off to. She didn't know how inclined their deputy was towards excessive worrying, but they probably wanted to avoid letting him sit about too long, lest he get annoyed and decide they needed some sort of punishment. She'd yet to face one, and she'd rather keep it that way for as long as possible. Grabbing her prey Deadmoon turned towards camp, trotting at a decent pace, if not a horribly exerting one. First dump this on the fresh-kill pile, then she could report and they'd have completed their duties. @Cheesy da Cheese
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All hail the Rat Queen's!!
Shrewstep has Silver Tongue and Mind Reader purrks
Pit has Just a Scratch and Beefed Up Tier 2
Deadmoon was pleased to see Swallowwing rejoining her soon after she'd reached their splitting point, and rather selfishly doubly pleased to see that he hadn't managed to outdo her. Two bits of fresh-kill each each was certainly a decent haul, and she gave the tom a swift smile before mewing Well, I suppose it's a draw. We'd better head back. They'd been out for a fair amount of time, and Fallownose was likely wondering where on earth they had gotten off to. She didn't know how inclined their deputy was towards excessive worrying, but they probably wanted to avoid letting him sit about too long, lest he get annoyed and decide they needed some sort of punishment. She'd yet to face one, and she'd rather keep it that way for as long as possible. Grabbing her prey Deadmoon turned towards camp, trotting at a decent pace, if not a horribly exerting one. First dump this on the fresh-kill pile, then she could report and they'd have completed their duties. @Cheesy da Cheese
Swallowing nodded and sprinted after her. dumping his prey on the fresh kill pile as well.
This was NORMAL, okay. Fellcone had come out here with a very important purpose. And yeah, maybe he was following the trail of a certain ivory cat, but he had a good reason. He needed to make sure this freak was actually leaving him alone, because he still FELT those eyes on him. Everywhere he went, being watched. Studied like an infected piece of meat. He was sick of it.
Even right now, he was convinced the not-stranger was stealing glances. He knew he was there, but Falcon was invisible in the ashen grass. That was the nice part about being burnt, it helped mask his darker pelt.
Tail swishing, he narrowed his eyes at the hills above. He wasn't one for heights, but if Frozen was heading up them, so would he. He would not let this cat get an advantage over him.
Someone was watching him. He could feel their eyes, their prying gaze, probably wondering why he was such a freak and so paranoid--skittish around everyone and everything.
An authority figure. That would make sense. Or a too-ambitious boyscout of a warrior making their case for having him surgically removed from the Clan. Whoever it was, he was being studied.
Frozen KNEW. Frozen coould telllllll!
Granted, he always felt like this these days. He had for ages. The hunted vibe never faded. Not after... dear, dear, dear and the gentle affection that came before claws raked crimson through his fur. (There was security in being guarded, possessed, though.) If only he'd been.. grateful.
FOCUS. That was over. It was. No matter how much it clung to him, that Falcon was dead and gone and DIDN'TCAREDIDN'TCAREDIDN'TCARE about him. r ejec tion - why was this the bad ending, left worse than before? (this wasn't focusing.)
(okay)
he was. trekking. out of camp. venturing further than he had in a long long time, his anxiety kept him close to safety with a wall between him and others. That was his comfortplace. Close enough to feel like he was getting better, far enough to keep that illusion intact.
So. This was new. The journeying, walking out on his own - prompted by a need for relief from the Watching because he couldn't take it, he hated being examined. There was too much horror beneath the surface. But out here.. he'd either have his mental quiet with the baseline amount of paranoia ringing in his ears, or.. or he'd ..
be able to confirm his suspicions about the nosy windclanner who had it out for him. He just needed to keep going. Already, he'd scaled the incline, too nervous to heave from exertion, and pushed onward well into flatlands that'd betray a stalker. And as he passed a boulder lodged into a hill, he saw the opportunity and tucked himself out of view to wait.
Fellcone knew he was right to do this, he could still feel the eyes on him even as the stranger disappeared over the hilltop. Somehow, he was still watching. Still following. Somehow,
He was not going to pretend he understood how. But this cat was unusual, and he would find his answers. Tail swishing over burnt stalks, he crept upward. Closer, closer. The hill seemed much smaller now when he was at the top, and as he looked ahead...
Where did he go? Fellcone paused in his confusion. The scent was here, frigid. But the cat was no where in sight. He could see a boulder, but it was lifeless.
He glanced over his shoulder, hackles raised. Did it go behind him, like the sneaky little bee it was? Falcon did not like the implication, and started to head for the rock. He'd use it for cover, so if the freak tried to ambush him, he would be ready.
Frozenberry lowered himself toward the singed ground. (Peace and quiet, a moment to collect his thoughts.) He was safe here, away from the calculating eyes of WindClan camp -- plotting to maim, to do something nefarious, to inflict irreversible damage. Someone was. Had to be. Paranoia may be draining, but it was a self-sustaining measure. His whole life he'd felt the shadow over his shoulder. Maybe this stalker would have the decency to remember him.
Honey, honey, honey. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, a rock in his stomach. Of course Falcon was doing better than he was.
No. Enough. He couldn't keep this up. Frozenberry had a new problem, and old obsessions rehashing a traumatic past would get him more watchers than whatever he currently had to deal with. Confrontation, again. Trying to convince whoever it was that he was NORMAL and FINE and totally Acceptable for WindClan's ranks. Thin too! Undereating, that was a cultural thing right? (Just don't talk about anything WEIRD. He'd need to keep those to himself.) .... he wasn't ready for a mundane interaction. he was going to fail at the simplest-
how did he manage to do this in his younger years? why had everything gone sour when his life split into Before and After thanks to Him.
That was when he heard a.. non-prey noise. Definitely cat. Cat-noise nearby. No scent though, blocked by the stupid boulder. His alert system kicked in, body stiffening, stance ready to take off down the moor at a hint of perceived danger. (So much for confrontation.) Listening closer, he quickly deduced what was happening: cat confirmed, probably preparing to ambush him considering he was near certain they waited on the other side of his rock. Just out of view.
the mind games, he couldn't take the mind games. they were hoping he'd crack. and they were right because his paranoia was in overdrive and he couldn't just SIT HERE like fish in a tidepool. he wouldn't. panic inched in. familiar rush, blood roaring in his flopped ears, paws tingling with anxiety and itching to MOVE. sprint. (Sprint on those scarred legs.) With his pulse rabbiting in his throat, he steadily -- slowly, so painfully slowly -- shifted himself to back away from the rock, away from the cat that had to be somewhere on the other side.
Re: Windy Hills
Re: Windy Hills
Re: Windy Hills
