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Post by Soleil on Jul 16, 2011 10:43:36 GMT -10
Sprucepaw nodded and the patrol took off.
He bounded after the patrol as they left the camp, hardly accounting for his young, short legs. He still burned with shame at being caught napping, but it quickly was erased from his mind as they travelled through the pine trees and hills around him. It was hard to stay any one emotion for long, Sprucepaw reflected. Even when he got angry, it never lasted more than a little while, and soon he was amicable again. He managed to keep pace with the patrol after getting out of camp, and soon they arrived at their destination- the stand of fir trees near the border.
"Err, I think I'll try the roots for a mouse or vole or something.. I don't think I could catch much up there, with the branches so thick.."
Sprucepaw looked down and kneaded the ground nervously. He didn't want to be seen as a bad example by climbing, because, he thought, he had neglected that facet of his training. He was really very nervous whenever an older warrior was around, especially during examinations- and to Sprucepaw, every patrol was an examination. He had hardly been in the clan for more than a few moons when he was given his apprentice name, and he was very eager to impress, but he couldn't stand his apparent awkwardness around Loonstep and the more senior warriors. He trotted off to the thicker mess of roots he spotted a moment ago- those would probably hold more than a few mice. He looked up to Loonstep and Swallowpelt for approval.
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Post by Cloudbat on Jul 17, 2011 16:07:26 GMT -10
Loonstep was enjoying himself, for once not dwelling on what he had lost.
Swallowpelt was resentful that she'd been dragged away from her mate for this silly patrol.
The trek through the forest was unremarkable but enjoyable. Various birds flitted through the treetops, and bees buzzed among the bushes and sweet-smelling flowers. The bitter scent of bark was particularly strong after the rain, and the muddy ground underfoot squelched slightly underneath their pads.
As the threesome arrived, Loonstep sniffed the air and Swallowpelt scanned the ground for tracks. Swallowpelt was immersed in sniffing and peering over the sediment, but the black and white tom answered the apprentice approvingly.
"Good choice. Firefang can have you practice climbing some other day. For starters I suggest-" he gestured with his paw- "-that big upraised root over there; something's sure to have burrowed underneath it." There was a warm satisfaction in Loonstep's heart at being able to give directions...he almost turned to brag to Duckstripe that he could teach cats to hunt, even if he wasn't great at it himself with his wide, swinging walk.
And she wasn't there, and the big tom's face became sorrowful.
Never mind, he thought. This is now.
Swallowpelt had found the trail of a shrew and was tracking it in a long, slow crawl across the forest floor, absolutely composed except for a tiny flick of a nicked gray ear, pawsteps barely impacting the soil despite her weight.
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Post by Soleil on Jul 18, 2011 5:49:27 GMT -10
Sprucepaw approached the roots carefully, scanning the ground for any sign of movement or sound. These firs were fantastically dense, casting shadows onto the forest floor that wove together into a great, black mat obscuring the light. He liked the forest out here.
Being careful not to make a sound, Sprucepaw climbed slowly onto the base of the think, gnarled roots of the tree closest to him. His fur here would play to his advantage, making him nearly invisible except the glow of his eyes.
He stood frozen, waiting for a sound amongst the roots, hardly breathing, his tail motionless. It was a technique he practiced often in the cover of thick canopies like these firs, and one he considered himself quite good at. Almost immediately he heard the rustle of movement, and a body to match the sound. A mouse!
Sprucepaw held his breath. This mouse was nice and plump, perfect to show off to the rest of camp when he got back. Sprucepaw thought in his mind of how much stuff he had done today- and how tired he was. The mouse slowly grazed its way towards the thinner roots, nibbling seed quickly and efficiently. But he hadn't done much today out of the usual, how could he be tired? Maybe the nap he took earlier had set him at odds- it was a distressful recurring dream and Sprucepaw hated it because it left him tired but unable to sleep. He twitched his tail reflexively at the annoyance, and it brushed against the loose soil at his feet.
The mouse was immediately alerted as Sprucepaw realized his mistake. He bunched his muscles and sprang to catch the mouse, and succeeded in trapping it in his paws. He quickly gave the death-bite and carried it back to the base of the tree where they had buried some other prey already. He looked around nervously, hoping no one had seen his sloppy catch. He berated himself again for not thinking.
speaking
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Post by Cloudbat on Jul 20, 2011 12:56:46 GMT -10
Loonstep watched Sprucepaw, noting his technique and balance. Not bad. Not perfect, but who was he to judge? It was ironic that while the black tom knew hunting theory by heart, his mentor having been slightly obsessed, he could barely get by in it himself.
And luckily the young tom had natural camouflage; the only element Loonstep was good at hunting in was snow, and even then his black patches of fur gave him away if the prey happened to be looking in his direction. But Cranetail was the master of hunting in snow; he remembered once incident on the Journey when they both had gone hunting in a deep drift; Loonstep had so nearly caught a squirrel but had only ended up with a measly mouse; his brother had brought back a rabbit AND a vole and the she-cats had fawned all over him.
Reminding himself to pay attention to Sprucepaw, he tensed as the apprentice accidentally made a sound - very small, but enough to alert the hearing and touch-sensitive creature he was stalking. Loonstep was ready to jump in and salvage the catch, but luckily, Sprucepaw had a lucky jump and caught it before it scurried under a root.
"Fine job; Firefang and Gingerstar will be pleased. Now, I'm going to try for a bird. Watch me." The bird in his mind was currently pecking most audibly against a low hanging branch about five fox-lengths away, and Loonstep tried and failed to creep stealthily toward it. He failed, but the creature - a woodpecker - was so engrossed in trying to make a hole in the sturdy hawthorn it hadn't noticed him - yet.
---
Swallowpelt and the shrew were playing a game.
First, Swallowpelt would try and creep up on it. She would get a few pawsteps closer, and the shrew would shift position on the leaf it was nibbling so she had to move to get out of its sight, fearing that her large weight would crack a twig or crinkle a leaf as she maneuvered.
Finally, she decided it wasn't worth it and just lunged for the thing. Of course, the moment she sprang it finished its leaf and ran off into the bushes, so she landed with a thump on the ground, spitting curses.
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Post by Soleil on Jul 21, 2011 17:59:32 GMT -10
Sprucepaw caught Loonstep's eyes looking out at his handiwork. He noticed Loonstep's appraising eye as the kill, but it didn't seem... judgmental. Rather, there was a note of sadness that darkened his eyes. But even that was brief. Loonstep's ears perked at the sound of the woodpecker waiting to be caught, so Sprucepaw decided to wait and watch the catch.
How could he ever hope to be as good as these warriors? It seemed like however hard he tried he would never be the BEST at something- which is exactly what he wanted- and it sure frustrated him. But Sprucepaw swallowed that sense of selfish pride as he always did, and put on his act of perfect apprentice. This act was not an act NECESSARILY, but Sprucepaw forced himself into that positive mentality as much as he could, even when he felt moody or irascible. It was important for him to impress, vital.
Sprucepaw glanced over for a moment to where he could see Swallowpelt running after a shrew or something, her hind wriggling off into the shadows. He then turned his attention back to the woodpecker that Loonstep was stalking. It would be an interesting catch if he managed it, that was certain. The woodpecker seemed pretty oblivious to Loonstep's presence, even as he stalked awkwardly towards it. Sprucepaw mused for a second at the warriors ridiculous hunting style, and how he ever managed to catch ANYTHING with that swaying gait of his. He twitched his whiskers in amusement.
Loonstep inched closer to the bird as it hammered away at its target. There was a twitch in the needles next to him, and Sprucepaw caught the glimpse of another mouse- it looked to be a mouse from the tail- moving quickly through the soil away from him. What a ridiculous scene he must make, letting a mouse inch up to him while he stood stack-still not noticing it. Sprucepaw turned and crept after the creature, smelling its path and scanning the ground for more signs of movement.
speaking
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Post by Cloudbat on Jul 25, 2011 8:29:52 GMT -10
This really was a dumb bird.
Though Loonstep would never be a brilliant hunter, he'd learned a few tricks to compensate for his unusual way of walking. He always made sure to disguise his scent thoroughly so that the prey would have a harder time of smelling the bi-colored tom even if they could see him - today he'd smothered some wild mint over his pelt.
He also walked through leaves whenever possible - most cats avoided it, but with him it was a good idea because should he trip, he wouldn't topple onto hard ground and injure himself.
And always he flattened his ears, kept his bulky head down and slowed his breathing, trying to become a part of the background.
It seemed to be working - one step, two steps, the bird was still pecking. Three steps, four steps - it stopped, but still hopped about on the branch. Five steps - pounce!
The woodpecker shrieked and tried to flap off - but it was too late, his powerful hind legs had allowed him to catch it mid-leap and drag it back down with him as he came back to earth. He felt a fleeting stab of pity for it as it struggled in his large snow-colored paws on the mossy ground, but he dispatched it with a bite and felt very satisfied with himself as he buried it. A bird and a mouse already. Gingerstar would be pleased.
---
For a minute or so, she sat and griped in her head, but the large gray she-cat knew that wouldn't do her much good, so she got up and sniffed the air with her mouth open, tail still twitching in annoyance over the dew-wet grass.
No good - the only smells were of cypress and juniper, oak and elm. Elm...she smiled briefly, thinking of Elmpaw. Her warrior son was growing strong and handsome - he would be a great warrior one day, just like his father.
And she was so proud of Crowflower - he was the most talented medicine cat PineClan would ever have, she was sure of it.
Willowpaw was doing well, too. Her mentor, Ashstorm, was a decent cat, and her feisty daughter's once troublesome energy was being directed into learning to serve her Clan. So what if she missed a shrew? She had three wonderful children and a great mate - all was well.
Once, she would have gone into a deep depression over missing the shrew, beating herself up for days and feeling like she was cursed for being ugly and talentless. She was still ugly - but no longer would she give into despair and hopelessness.
Feeling so, she quietly padded onward, trying to catch any traces of prey.
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Post by Soleil on Jul 25, 2011 20:09:55 GMT -10
Sprucepaw stalked quietly through the bushes, low to the ground with his weight spread evenly. He stalked slowly, pantomiming a floating motion along the ground. He was trying very hard not to make a sound, and his slow movement would help him conceal himself in the darkness under the low-hanging firs around him. There was no undergrowth here, which for Sprucepaw was a blessing and a curse. He was not a very good hunter in thick underbrush, and preferred the open stands of pine trees much more. Unfortunately, it was easier for his prey to see him as well, so Sprucepaw tread silently and thanked his dark brown fur for concealment.
Sprucepaw caught sight of the mouse again after a moment, scurrying away in a direction tangential to his own. The mouse was hurrying around, but not from Sprucepaw's appearance. He skirted quickly around the tree he was next to, just to keep sight of the varmint. He watched it scoot away under a pile of pine needles and lay silent after that. Sprucepaw stood absolutely composed and alert for any sign of movement, ears pricked for any sound.
It was a waiting game between Sprucepaw and this mouse. Even though it lasted only a few short seconds, Sprucepaw's nerves were tingling and on fire waiting for the smallest movement to pounce upon.
Nothing. The mouse had obviously retreated into its hole and would be impossible to get out without disturbing the rest of the forest.
---
He smelled it only shortly before he heard it. As Sprucepaw turned to head back to Loonstep and Swallowpelt, the wind picked up and Sprucepaw instinctively tasted the air- and the rank scent of fox. He scanned ahead of him quickly and didn't see any sign and froze, pelt tingling. The fox was behind him, close behind him. He heard the pounding of his heart as pulse started racing, then the pounding of feet as the fox took off and chased after the apprentice.
Sprucepaw took off like an arrow from a bow, adrenaline rushing and blood pumping. He let out a yowl of warning to the rest of the patrol.
"Fox! Loonstep! Loonstep!"
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OOC: time for le foxeh? |
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Post by Cloudbat on Jul 28, 2011 5:13:47 GMT -10
OOC: XD That fox is in for a serious ass whooping. Swallowpelt has a HUGE grudge against foxes since one gave her all her scars.
Oh, great. Just as he'd finished burying his kills (which he hoped Sprucepaw had also had the foresight to do) a fox had to turn up. He heard the apprentice's yowled alarm and his fur stood on end as the young brown cat raced past him, kicking up grass and dirt as he sped away, the ginger menace snarling after him. Loonstep struggled not to roll his eyes as he took flight after the creature. Hadn't Sprucepaw learned that you should stay still and look away so the fox wouldn't consider you a threat?
At least, the heavyset warrior thought as he chased them, dodging tree roots, he hadn't been stupid enough to try and fight it himself. He hoped Swallowpelt had heard it as well, and would join him.
As if she'd been drawn there by his thoughts, the big gray she-cat burst out of the foliage beside him, with such a look of rage on her face that the younger PineClanner felt chilled to the bone as she shoved past him to get at the creature. He was too nervous to be offended as she raced over the light-dappled forest floor and leaped on the fox, shouting:
"YOU WILL NOT RUIN ANOTHER CAT'S LIFE, SCUM!"
The small part of his brain that was still thinking rationally realized that Swallowpelt must have received her deep, lasting scars from a fox...perhaps when she was no older than Sprucepaw himself. No wonder she was so bitter, and determined to fight. Still, even in her rage she might not be a match for the fox, so still Loonstep went as fast as he was able to aid her.
---
The moment she heard Sprucepaw's warning and smelled the rank scent of the filthy creature all thoughts of prey were shoved aside as vengeance filled her mind, lending her abnormal strength and speed. Instead of this forest, another one from long ago flashed before her eyes.
Her green eyes were filled with rage as she remembered the pain of her own wounds, felt the memory of such pain that she knew she would never let that happen to another cat. Snarling viciously, she ripped through the leaves and vines to follow the animal, moving with agility surprising for her size.
As she practically flew over the grassy floor, she launched herself in the air and landed right on the fleeing creature's back, sinking her claws into its neck. It barked and threw her off, twisting to face her as she sprung from the ground and dodged its snapping fangs, ducking to bite its leg, her jaws sinking in so deep she felt bone beneath her fangs.
The fox howled and bit her ear, making two ragged holes in it as she hissed with pain and released her bite, yowling as its claws dug into her tail. But the pain only further deepened her rage as the muscular PineClanner jumped to claw at its eyes, gouging into the soft tissue as the ginger-pelted creature flailed and scratched her sides. She ducked to avoid its jaws, but then the fox pinned her to the ground with its heavy paw.
She struggled, but the animal would have snapped her neck had Loonstep not just bit down hard on the creature's fluffy tail, causing it to writhe in agony and release its grip, howling, to flee into the forest.
She got up, breathing heavily, fully feeling the injuries she'd sustained. They weren't life-threatening, but they still hurt quite a bit, especially the one on her ear. Loonstep, feeling guilty for not having been there quick enough, padded over to her. "I'm sor-" He began to apologize, but she quelled him with a grunt and slowly began to walk.
The bleeding gray she-cat called out the apprentice. "Sprucepaw, it's all right. The fox is gone. And I think it's learned that PineClanners aren't easy prey. Thanks for your warning."
Despite her injuries, she felt satisfied. No apprentice would be hurt by a fox as long as Swallowpelt lived to tear its guts out.
OOC: Ah, it feels nice to write a battle scene.  /hasn't done so in so long.
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/hasn't done so in so long.