The Colony I'M ONE OF THE GUYS // hunting tips

[serpentberry]

[ pls wait for @rowanheart :3 ]

Her claws scrape together morsels of moss, tucking them back into spare nests that she passes by. It seems that all she can do now is pace and wait - wait and pace, even - for her kits to arrive and leafbare with them. Serpent hasn't yet dreaded the snow and cold, yet, but as days wear on, she begins to think she just might to pass the time. After all, what other use is a pregnant molly for, if not to complain about the unchangeable?

Green eyes drift through lingering cats, and soon she finds a small form of russet and rust. Rowan, if she recalls them well. A skinny squirrel falling from her teeth, a meal for a kitten perhaps. The dead thing looks as if it was already ill and failing! Just who had taught this youngling to hunt, if she only went after the weak?

"Rowan, sweetheart?" she pads closer to the other. She keeps her gaze level, sharp with intent but edged with a newfound fondness for the youth; she blames it on the litter she bares. "How's hunting for you? Not too difficult, I hope, with all the leaf litter."

 

[rowanpaw]

Rowan jumps slightly as the older she-cat speaks to hear– being back in the colony, she'd let her guard down. She drops the squirrel at her feet, and says, "it is difficult," she says earnestly. Maybe it was being around a pregnant molly which made her soften so easily. A reminder of something she'd lost. "It's my first leaf fall– I was born during leaf bare, but I couldn't hunt then, of course. Maple taught me to hunt in the warmer seasons, so I have no experience with hunting during leaf fall," she blinks at Serpent expectantly, unable to hide her excitement at the possibility of receiving guidance from her.

 

[serpentberry]

The youth is eager to complain, something that Serpent is much too understanding of. Soon Rowan will turn four seasons, and to be bringing back such weak morsels... The molly tries to alleviate the initial disappointment with the fact that stretches between them - leaf-fall and leafbare are the hardest times to hunt during. Even warriors tens of seasons old can struggle in these conditions.

"Your paws can be useful still," she chirps with a softness not unlike her, though her words are brandished like claws still. Rowan looks to her like she is a messiah, longing to be taught by someone so knowledgeable. Serpent cracks a grin, "Have you tried scaling the trees? There are notches in their trunks, where your claws will fit just fine. There is no leafage up there to rustle; only branches to race across..." Serpent draws her tail around the other molly, her smile still bright. "It's scary, but I think you could do it...!"

 

[rowanpaw]

Rowan preens at the soft touch of the older cat's tail, drinking up her words like a cat who hasn't had any water in days. She nods, thoughtful. "I've never considered trying to scale the trees," she replies, "but it makes sense. You can get a better view of things from up there, too, and the prey will be less likely to smell you coming..." her ears twitch with excitement at the prospect of mastering a new way to hunt– although she was still far from mastering the first one. Perhaps it was more so the idea of being more useful, less of a burden. And Serpent believes in her. She thinks Rowan can do it, so Rowan will. She can't disappoint Serpent, not now that she's offered her both advice and faith.