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Hunting
Mar 17, 2006 18:57:16 GMT -5
Post by Rainstorm on Mar 17, 2006 18:57:16 GMT -5
Silver raced across the plain chasing the rabbit, her paws flying over the ground as she ran. As she reached Little Maples, she gave a tremendous leap and clawed at the rabbit's hind legs. Hooking her longest claw into one of them, she pulled with all her strength. Finally, before it could escape, she bestowed the killing bite to its neck and it fell limp in her jaws.
"That makes four," Silver meowed proudly as she spat the little creature out. "Time to go back to camp." She grabbed ahold of the rabbit with her teeth and carried it to the spot where she had buried her other prey.
After carefully digging the two mice and the chaffinch she had caught earlier, Silver observed her catch and thought over how much she could carry at one time. Finally she decided to bring the mice first. If she held them by their tails, she could carry both at the same time.
She buried the rabbit and chaffinch and then carefully picked up her mice before padding back to camp. She would return later for the other prey.
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Hunting
Jun 8, 2006 10:44:38 GMT -5
Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 8, 2006 10:44:38 GMT -5
The line of bushes surrounding the trio of maples rustled slightly as Silver padded away, and then stilled suddenly as a breeze swept across the prairies of WindClan, carrying the leftover scent of the buried prey. Then, out of nowhere, a pair of dark yellow orbs appeared through the pale green leaves of the brush, their intense colors radiating a strange warmth and softness. Oculars blinked once, twice, and then moved forward a slight fraction, making the features of the creature more visible, though they were still only faint outlines in the shadowed depths of the brambles. It was a feline, that was obvious by its size and the shape of its head. A tom, also, looking at the roughly chiseled face and ears adorning his skull. Then another step was taken, making the head completely exit the thick tangled mess of foliage behind the male. The cat had quite a tubby look for one who lived on the lands of WindClan. His fur, sleek and glossy, was of the deepest crimson, and stuck up in thin spikes of vermilion all over his form, making him look like a fat, jolly pincushion with the wide grin pasted onto his face. Then he took a bounding leap to entirely escape the snagging branches of the bushes and the snakes he instinctively knew were there. He was a bit portly, you had to say. However, this did not seem to bother him. He strode confidently towards the small pile of freshly dug-up earth, neck arching gracefully downwards to sniff the dirt curiously, and a satisfied twitch disturbed the smile on his maw. One thick paw reached forwards, resting on the pile, and then paused as the tom looked around himself. It was as if he was guilty of some heinous crime, even though to him it was only a bit of prey. Content that no one was yet watching, he swiftly dug up the chaffinch and rabbit Silver had left, grasping the bigger catch in his strong jaws. Though he did look powerful, he still had a kittish appearance to his features, a soft, gentle curve to his cheeks that betrayed the youth of his mind. A thin, spindly thing dropped from the side of his mouth as he righted himself, giggling happily to himself. He looked down at it, the laughter stopping in his throat, a confused expression replacing the one of joy as his eyes clouded over in a lost look. A cricket leg. Blinking again, the expression cleared, and the tom began padding back to the bushes, completely believing that he was safe.
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Hunting
Jun 18, 2006 9:56:14 GMT -5
Post by Shadepelt on Jun 18, 2006 9:56:14 GMT -5
A dark, lithe feline shape oozed silently through the grasses, like water over rocks. The sleek, black hide brushed up against a bush of thorny brambles, catching the cat's skin. With a pull then a wince, the creature pulled free, small rivers of blood now flowing down her stream-line body. Paw over paw, the dark thing manuvered it's self through the bushes, avoiding the sharp brambles. Dainty paws steered it out of the thorns, and into the open. Black nostrils widened and sucked in deeply the scents of the prarie, from the grasses, to the prey to the-- Long, muscular limbs froze, and ice blue orbs narrowed. Black jaws opened to reveal saber-like teeth, and a hiss escaped the chest and throat. Any-cat could tell this was a she-cat, by the voice, and small chisled head. Claws unsheathed and gripped the ground, She wasn't alone. Ears pinned back to reveal her anger, the she-cat weaved through the little maples, as silent as an owl in flight. Lowering herself to a crouching postition on the ground, she peered throught the prarie grass. She didn't like what she saw. A round looking cat, by scent it was a tom, with a bright crimson pelt, longer then most. He couldn't be in WindClan, she hadn't ever seen him before. Diciding he wasn't welcome, she gathered power into her strong haunches, and tensed her long, black legs. Like dark lightning, she flew out of the bushes, as if propelled by all of StarClan. Stopping a whisker's length away from the intruder, she raised her head proudly, and pinned back her small ears. "What are you doing here intruder? This is WindClan's territory!" The she-cat's silver striped tail whipped around, flashing like stars. "You have no right to be here, now leave!" Her anger levels rose still, as she spied the prey he was carrying. "That prey dosn't belong to you! That is WindClan's prey, and we need it more then you do!" Gesturing towards his roundish appearence. Spitting with rage, the feline called Shadepelt flexed her shoulders, she was ready to take care of any "disagreements". "Well?! Do I need to escort you out?" Shaking her head in discust, she sent a boring stare towards the tom, black pupils like two black scars raked across her eyes.
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Hunting
Jun 23, 2006 9:29:02 GMT -5
Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jun 23, 2006 9:29:02 GMT -5
Letting a high-pitched squeak whistle from his throat, Red Needle jumped in surprise, hackles raised from the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins. His jerking movements caused him to tumble backwards and roll onto his back, sending his hind legs straight into the air, and he quickly jumped to his paws in one fluid movement, abnormally agile for such a portly feline. Ears had been thrown back against his head, fangs bared and gleaming, though it was more in terror than anger or aggresivity. Golden gaze shone with fear, and shivers ran down his spine in quick succession, obviously betraying what he was feeling at that exact moment. He did not make a move as Shadepelt started getting all hissy and spitty at him, gesturing at the prey, himself, and probably other things he didn't even notice because she was speaking and moving so quickly. He was getting quite lost in all the commotion, small mouth shaking as tears of fear pricked at his eyes, body lowering itself to the ground in an attempt to make him smaller, or even to disappear, though this effect was completely ruined by the fact that his stomach bulged out at his sides comically. Pudgy face stared upwards almost pleadingly at the ruthless WindClan warrior, large yellow oculars blinking in a confused manner as the tom searched for something to say or do. And, finally, a solution to this thick tangle of a problem flickered alive in his muddled head. Completely forgetting the prey that had fallen from his mouth as he cried out at the she-cat's approach, he whirled around and raced towards the small group of trees, claws scrabbling at the dirt. Legs pulling him with hardly an effort up the thick, burly trunk of one of the trio of maples, crimson tail sticking straight out behind him like a thick stick covered in fuzzy vermilion moss, whiskers taut on each side of his face, he strongly leaped and clawed his way upwards. Though he was of slightly portulent proportions, it did not mean he did not possess well-developed muscles under his thick carmine coat. As he reached the first few branches, he took a hold of the first one and went on up, from branch to branch, until he could go no farther. The limbs were becoming too thin and brittle for his weight, so he had to stop, perched on one of the highest branches. Wide face stared downwards fearfully, maw still murmuring the words that kept on echoing inside his head like a stricken gong. "Run, run, run."
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Hunting
Jun 23, 2006 16:32:01 GMT -5
Post by Shadepelt on Jun 23, 2006 16:32:01 GMT -5
((I was just on WCLW, and you recongized me! Yay! *giggles happily*))
Black regal fur stood on end at the sound of the high-pitched squeal. This only increased the she-cat's anger, and she snarled wickedly as she saw tears form in the loner's amber eyes. Shadepelt knew she was being a little harsh, but she hadn't had action like this in awhile. As her mind began to click into gear thinking about ways to torment the tom, she didn't notice it when he fled. A fustrated growl rumbled deep inside the she-cat's throat, much deeper then a normal she-cat's voice. Black lips parted to reveal a snarl, pearl-white sabres glinting in the sun. She watched the crimson cat dash away, obviously she had made an impression. Good. The power of TigerClan gathered in her haunches, as she burst forward like a flying star. The world surrounding her a blur, a small grin began to form at the farthest tips of her mouth. Run little loner, run! The chase was on. No more then a black streak, Shadepelt determindly chased the loner, and smiled contentedly as she saw the coward climb one of the maples. Laughing inwardly, she skidded to a stop at the base of the tree. Scents of many WindClan cats were everywhere, but the loner's smell stood out. Scanning the tree with ice chips for eyes, the enraged black creature unsheathed her claws as she spotted her victim. Blue orbs fixed on the tom, she circled the tree repeatedly, not overlooking any detail, examining every branch and twig. Her mind reeled with all the possible ways of terrifying the crimson cat, waiting? Persuing? Without showing any signs of emotion, the WindClan warrior paused her pacing, then twisted around and faced the maple. Claws outstretched, she sunk them deep into the living bark of the tree, and began to slowly climb her way upward. Light weighted body springing from branch to branch, she stopped about six tail lengths from where the red loner sat. A sickly-sweet grin was set on her jaw, and she lowered herself into a crouching position on the arm of the maple. Waiting was the answer, and Shadepelt was very patient.
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jul 3, 2006 3:12:43 GMT -5
Intense golden orbs followed the she-cat's every movement as she advanced upon the tree, circling it like a fox would when its next meal is up in the branches of an oak, almost as if she wanted to make the tom dizzy, so that he would drop right off of the thick limb he had chosen near the top. Something in Red's mind clicked into place, and though the terrified expression stayed, as well as the feeling of intense fear that raged through his every pore, he was now able to think clearly, plan ahead, and was not hindered anymore by the squirrel-like attitude he had shown moments before. He knew that he shouldn't stare at the feline below, that he might fall, and so wrenched his golden gaze away, instead fixing the burly bark of the maple he had streaked up. A pause in the shuffle of moving leaves grasped his attention with an iron grip, pulling his oculars downwards again. They widened suddenly, looking like twin suns in his wide crimson face, as he saw what the female was doing. Shuffling backwards, mind blocked by the endless repetition of runrunrun, he desperately tried to get farther away from the climbing feline, paws scrabbling at the rough bark covering the branch he was sitting upon. His breath came in short, ragged pants, pupils were morphed into mere ebony slits inside the wide golden iris dominating his orbs, claws immediately unsheathed from padded feet, scraping against the tree's skin roughly as he continued going backwards, backwards, and still backwards. The faint crackling snaps of breaking wood alerted him of his possibly lethal mistake. At the base of the branch he was padding back on, the obvious jagged line that told of the seperation of the limb from the tree was already appearing, widening quickly under the weight of the tom sitting on it. Horror replaced the fear inside Red's sun-kissed oculars, and his jaws came apart in a jarring movement of shock. No surprise was visible on his features, however. No hint of something that could have told he had not been expecting this. He knew something bad would happen - something always did, whatever he tried - and so he had been waiting for the moment that this 'something bad' would happen. And here it was; not the she-cat chasing him, but the branch he had vouched on, the place where he had thought he was safe. What an idiotic mistake. With a final snap, the branch fell to the ground, carrying Red with it. Though the tom was a strange one, and did not act as most cats did, survival instincts were still buried somewhere inside a dark, forgotten corner of his mind, and surged up at this moment when he needed them most. Spine twisting of its own accord, placing his forepaws so that they would hit the ground first and absorb the shock, back legs realined with fore. He smashed into the earth, legs crumpling beneath him as he relaxed his muscles to not break every bone in his body, and lay there silently, a miserable heap of crimson fur, immobile. Only one thing was still showing that he was alive - though temporarily, judging by the twitches making his body shudder, and the agonizing pain creating a grimace upon his childish features - , and it was the faint rise and fall of his vermilion side, as well as the coughing breaths taken in to his lungs. A single word passed through his head as he lay there, waiting for the she-cat to come and finish him off. Ouch.
[Meef <33 Please don't kill him. I'd like to keep him for a future plot I've got with Moonstorm, aka Frosteh. Danke n_n]
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Hunting
Jul 3, 2006 11:48:30 GMT -5
Post by Shadepelt on Jul 3, 2006 11:48:30 GMT -5
((Don't worry, I don't like killing kittehs )) Firery blue orbs glinted the she-cat watched the tom began to move backwards, farther and farther away. Short, rusty breaths reached her ears, and she knew that panic had already begun to destroy this loner's mind. Bit by bit, panic ate away at all the sane parts of a once wise cat's mind, not that this loner was wise, and turned them into a phycotic heap of misery. The WindClan warrior wasn't sure how this crimson pelted tom had gotten to be the way he was, but she was sure that she was just making it worse. Good. Eyes transfixed on his, she almost felt sorry for the brute. Almost, not completely. That being, she wouldn't hesitate to do anything she could, be it with tooth or claw, to make him leave. Eyes flicking to the base of the branch he was residing on, she could see the faint line of where it was breaking, it couldn't be long now. Each moment it got wider and wider, until finally, the sound of the total separation rang throughout the otherwise silent air, making the female smile with glee. Down, down, down fell her oponant, along with the branch that had been holding him up. Orbs of blue narrowed as she watched the loner twist in the air, trying to land on his paws. Failing horribly, she flinched as he fell, laying twisted below her. With one swift movement, the female leaped from the maple, and onto the tom, claws sheathed. With one small, yet strong, paw, she pushed on him, as to let him know she was here. "Leave here, even though I'm not going to kill you, no doubt some other warrior will." The faint hiss escaped her, before she even knew what she was saying. Stepping back, giving him room to get up and run, she bowed her head. The she-cat had seen better opponants, but at least this one had giving all he had, and tryed as hard as he could. Well, at least that's the way this WindClan warrior saw it. Bowing her head, she stayed, just to make sure he really did leave. She felt calmed, as all the rage had left her body, she was now level headed, no longer a bloodthirsty beast. Shadepelt felt sorry for him. Not almost, she did. ((We should RP together more, that was fun!))
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Hunting
Jul 3, 2006 14:34:36 GMT -5
Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Jul 3, 2006 14:34:36 GMT -5
A low moan squeezed itself from Red's throat as the she-cat landed heavily upon him from the branch she had been perched on above, agonizing pain shooting through his ribs like blazing arrows or ardent fire, and his muscles tensed instinctively while the feline gave a small push with a single ebony paw. At least her claws were sheathed, slipped back into the sockets they took as homes, and did not slide through his thick coat and penetrate his skin. The torture would have been even worse with that, and it was already bad enough as he lay there, immobile, a prostrate form under the feet of a Clan warrior. Tears threatened to cascade down his wide cheeks, pricking at the corners of golden oculars, though the tom did his best to hold back the flow. He managed to keep them from falling, streaming down his face like crystalline drops of clear liquid, and chanced a glance upwards at the female standing on him. She had said something, though the pain had muddled her words as they entered his troubled mind, making them completely incomprehensible when you added his slight mental problems and the agony coursing through his every pore like stallions in a race. He could recognize the tone, slightly menacing because of the added hiss, and knew that she wanted him to shove off her land and beware the consequences of coming back, or get killed by her own self or some other passing warrior. The male quivered slightly under her cold blue gaze, and tried to press himself closer to the ground, almost as if he wanted to sink into the earth and disappear. The trace of a flinch crossed his features, betraying the pain he was feeling at the moment. Perhaps those were the reasons the she-cat stepped off of him, giving him room to get back to his feet and run away. Or perhaps not. He wouldn't know until he asked, and, personally, he didn't think he would enjoy staying here while a cat who was out for his blood was waiting for him to go. Legs fumbled for a hold as he wrenched his gaze away from the she-cat's steely orbs, unsheathed claws scrambling against the hard dry dirt for a strong hold to pull himself back up. He knew that simply shoving and pushing himself wouldn't work; his legs had gotten quite a shock when he had fallen wrong, twisting under his weight? Maybe he should cut down on the prey. But this thought didn't really reach the sensible part of his mind, and so was left to dangle somewhere out in a dark abyss, to be found, perhaps, in one or two moons. For now, his habits would stay the same. Getting sore muscles wouldn't change much in him. He sighed in relief as one paw grabbed a hold on the protruding root of one of the trio of maples. Perhaps, if he hadn't found something to help him up, the she-cat would have thought that she should put him out of his misery and kill him. He wouldn't have liked that. Of course, not many cats would have. He tried dragging himself towards the hold by pulling and shoving alternately between his four legs, though he failed miserably in this first attempt. Another try brought him closer to the root, farther than he had gone in his previous time, though there was still one or two mouse-lengths before he would be able to entirely use the help. The last desperate tug slid him even closer to the root, and he was finally able to rest his weight upon it, pushing himself upwards onto his feet. For a few moments, he was worried that he would fall down again pathetically, legs wobbling weakly as he stood. A lost expression had found its way onto his face. He was always confused when something contradicted him. However, his legs soon steadied, and he was able to stay up on his four legs without shaking from side to side like a bobbing leaf in a breeze. He would have to walk. His legs had been too jarred by the shock of his fall, and he wouldn't be able to go fast for some amount of time. He wished he could rest. It was tiring to fall down from trees and hurt your legs. Why was the she-cat going after him like that? What had he done wrong? He hadn't stolen. That other cat had left the prey there, and he had thought that, instead of leaving it there to rot, he would take it instead. But something inside him knew that the other cat would not understand his reasoning. They never did. Always yelling at him, chasing him, snapping, hissing, spitting... she had been no different at the start. What was the point of thinking she would be now?
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