{$title} Hollowmumble and her hunting patrol run into Fleapaw, who has wandered onto the moore. The windclan cats are pre-picked for this patrol! No other Windclan cats please :]

Hollowmumble, -- 35 Moons / Barn Cat / 'Windclan' -- Ages on the 14th
Black spotted ghost tabby with bright amber eyes.
She is friendly, yet quiet, and always willing to help.
It was a beautiful, warm day on the moore. The spring air was fresh, healing to the barn cat's tainted lungs. The sky was bright, with the occasional cloud floating across it, white and fluffy. The long grass of the moore danced and waved in the breeze, a beautiful ocean of green and yellow. It was the perfect day to be out and about in the grasslands. Hollow stuck her head in the air for a moment to savor the warmth she had missed so much during winter, closing her eyes for just a second before opening them again and focusing on the task at hand.
She was hunting today, as she found herself doing most of the time since they had all retreated out to the fields. Merry- or, well, Merrystalk now, had come with her, along with a couple of others. Prey was so abundant at the barn, because of the two-leg harvests and food storage, but out on the moore it was a different story. Still abundant, yes, especially during spring, but the prey here was leaner, ready to run, harder to catch. They needed all the paws they could get if the wanted to keep all of the barncats fed.
Or, well, Windclan or whatever Dusty called it. Dustystar.
They were still the barncats, to Hollow. Even if they no longer had a barn.
She turned to Merry, observing him for a second before speaking. "Have you caught the scent of anything yet?"
She was hunting today, as she found herself doing most of the time since they had all retreated out to the fields. Merry- or, well, Merrystalk now, had come with her, along with a couple of others. Prey was so abundant at the barn, because of the two-leg harvests and food storage, but out on the moore it was a different story. Still abundant, yes, especially during spring, but the prey here was leaner, ready to run, harder to catch. They needed all the paws they could get if the wanted to keep all of the barncats fed.
Or, well, Windclan or whatever Dusty called it. Dustystar.
They were still the barncats, to Hollow. Even if they no longer had a barn.
She turned to Merry, observing him for a second before speaking. "Have you caught the scent of anything yet?"