Open Territory is it naive to make plans that seem so far away? ─★ [bird hunting]

[brightnose!'s icon brightnose! brightnose!]

BRIGHTNOSE ── skyclan | warrior

Brightnose leaves camp early today, just as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. Morning dew still clings to the grass underpaw, but Brightnose pays no mind to the dampness of the ground, instead keeping her eyes flitting between the treetops as she passes them by.

Leaves have just started to change color, and the morning air is a bit nippy - the first signs of Leaf-fall are here, and it won't be long before Leaf-bare closes in on the forest. There's no shortage of prey here, not yet, but Brightnose knows there will be soon. So she'll challenge herself now. Sharpen her skills. She'll need it if she wants to feed her Clan in the coming moons.

A particular sound causes Brightnose's ear to twitch, and her head swivels to look at its source: a woodpecker, a bird that's rarely sighted in the territory and even more rarely sighted in the fresh-kill pile. Perfect, she thinks, crouching low to the ground. Now this was a challenge - even for her.

Her now-wet paws fall silently against the forest floor as she creeps ever closer to the bird, the knock, knock, knock of its beak against the tree piercing through the air. Raising her hackles, Brightnose prepares to jump...

The sound of claws against bark and flapping wings meet her ears as she falls several inches short of the bird, scaring it away. Her whiskers twitch with frustration as she watches it disappear into the sky, and her claws tear into the earth, ripping up a chunk of grass. It's fine, she reassures herself. I'll try again...

now i will tell you what i've done for you

fifty thousand tears i've cried

• ooc: rolled a 9 :') [d20]
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[TAWNYBEAM]

For once, Tawnybeam is quiet. As boisterous as he tends to be, he, too, understands the need in remaining soundless if one wishes to return to camp with something to fatten the fresh-kill pile with. He may be a clumsy tom with most things in life, but he has nearly perfected his tree-climbing skills—a necessity born out of needing to prove himself to SkyClan, all those moons ago. He doesn't feel the crushing weight of that desperation anymore, but that's not an issue. There is always something improve at. He can use his skills to feed his Clan now.

He is not too far behind Brightnose; he isn't even certain if she's okay with his presence, but he had not dared to open his maw and ask. He supposes she would have shooed him away already... but she's not the antisocial type to begin with. Tawnybeam is certain it's fine.

Turns out, his decision to jump into the trees and take cover in the foliage is turning into his favor. Brightnose is a good hunter, but not every hunt ends up successful—evident in the way she falls just short and thus unable to seize her catch. Tawnybeam is quick to react, already bounding along the stronger branches to intercept the flying bird. It must be too preoccupied with escaping Brightnose; by the time it registers Tawnybeam's presence, it's far too late. His teeth close like a cage around its neck, signifying the end of a perfect catch.

"Surprise!"

he bellows around the feathers in his mouth, making sure to pop his head out from a bare spot amongst the trees' joined canopy.

Rolled a d20.

 

[brightnose!'s icon brightnose! brightnose!]

BRIGHTNOSE ── skyclan | warrior

When Brightnose sees Tawnybeam's head pop out of the trees, she relaxes a little; at least her screw-up hadn't resulted in a complete loss. "Nice catch," she calls up to him, and genuinely means it; catching a bird in flight is no simple feat. "Maybe I'll join you up there after all," she thinks aloud, clambering up the tree nearest to him and settling on one of the thicker branches.

Sniffing the air, Brightnose begins the search for her next target, scanning the area for things like nests or feathers. She thinks she catches the scent of quail, but it's several tail-lengths away - she'll have to tree-hop her way there, though if done correctly would be much more efficient than noisily climbing up the trunk. Scooching further out toward the edge of the branch she's perched on, she readies herself before making the leap to the next tree over. Her landing is graceful, near-silent save for the slight creaking of her sudden weight upon the branch. Now, where is that stars-damned bird?

Peering through the leaves, she can see it; cozied up near the trunk, the quail is cleaning in-between its feathers. It's relatively plump as well, no doubt preparing for the colder season. Brightnose can feel anxiety stir within her chest now, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of her Clanmate again, but she tries to push it to the back of her mind as she stalks forward, careful not to alert the bird. When she leaps, claws catch its wing, sinking into it as the quail frantically tries to escape. Brightnose pins it down, teeth clamping around its fragile neck. Not her cleanest catch, but it will certainly do - at least she hadn't missed twice in a row.

now i will tell you what i've done for you

fifty thousand tears i've cried

• ooc: nat20 agility / 13 stealth
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[cygnetscratch]

[ rolled a 9 :sob: ]

Cygnetscratch isn't necessarily a team player. While she attends patrols when told to, she still often goes it alone - a lone wolf in her own right. Whatever venture she had been a part of that day is forgotten, nearly discarded as she, too, scents something fresh in the wind.

The molly does not see Brightnose's failure - only Tawnybeam's follow up success as he snatches the woodpecker from the air. And not long after, the molly catches something too. Cygnetscratch cannot help the confidence that swirls in her chest that it simply must be a good day for SkyClan's hunters. After all - two flyers within a few minutes? Surely there's to be another around the corner, and surely she's noticed the pattern well enough for it to be her catch. The white furred warrior twitches her tail and smells the air, mostly tasting the blood of the prior to catches in the wind. She finds herself slowly embittered by the tainted breeze, but she shifts her weight nonetheless, in hopes to find something.

And find something she does - however, it seems that the something finds her first. A squirrel a few pawsteps from her stiffens in the nettles, alerting her to its presence all before scrambling up the nearest trunk. Cygnetscratch can't even react in time to chase it, and instead dumbly watches a meal get away. "Foxdung."