Open Territory it's time for your daily dose of group activity [early morning hunting]

This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.
GHOSTSTRIKE

GHOSTSTRIKE

i aim low, i aim true, and the grounds where i go
ThunderClan
Colony Clan Founder
59
2
Freshkill
295

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WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US
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It was another frigid day in the territory, the kind of morning where you woke to frost clinging to your whiskers and a bone-deep desire to just close your eyes and go back to sleep. Occasionally it occurred to Ghost that he could sleep in if he wanted too– there was technically nothing stopping him from curling up in his threadbare nest and stealing a few more hours of sleep within the warmth of the small den he'd scraped out for himself in the side of the ravine. But he'd always been an early riser, and with Thunderclan already lacking in so much structure he couldn't bring himself to forgo what little he had left. And so, come dawn, he was up with the suns light peaking over the horizon.

He stretched his stiff muscles and shook out his short, thick coat, doing his best to ignore the chill but noting that his solitary den off by the medics might have to be abandoned soon in favor of the warriors den after all; the winters here were too harsh, and he wasn't trying to lose what was left of his ears to frostbite simply because his small den lacked enough body heat to keep him warm. It was something he wasn't looking forward to at all, if not for the cramped space then because he'd be packed in there with more cats than he could comfortably keep an eye on.

But at least he'd live.

That morning, when a cat announced they were heading out to hunt and invited others to join them, Ghost decided to go along as well. Until now he'd been hunting mainly on his own, his kills eaten by him or dropped in the doorway of Serpents den for Thunder (though he was sure the chocolate tom was sharing with whoever else was in there with him).

But his paws ached for direction, for something to busy them. And he could always hunt for himself and Thunder later. There'd be no harm in forfeiting a single meal to some other cat, especially if Ghost was able to use the hunt as a training exercise to make sure he didn't lose his impressive physique– he hadn't exactly been training like he used to since getting here, spending the majority of his time injured.

But he was fit now, and eager for something to do, so he quickly fell into line and followed the hunting patrol out of the ravine and into the territory beyond.

OOC- This is completely optional, but for those of you who want to randomize your encounter, feel free to use my dice chart below! (Please note, this is my old hunting chart that reflects Fourtrees prey, but i think it should be okay for this while I'm working on updating my TC chart <3 )

Nat; 1 crit fail (you probably hurt yourself)
2-3; major fail (not even close)
4-6; basic fail (you didn't embarrass yourself, you just couldn't do it)
7-10; minor fail (nearly had it, you were so close)
11-12; flawed success (did it poorly)
13 -15; average success (did it competently)
16-19; great success (didn't break a sweat)
Nat 20 crit success (fucking show-off)

FOR SUCCESSFUL HUNTING ROLLS
1- Mouse
2- Vole
3- Bird
4- Chipmunk
5- Rabbit
6- Squirrel
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future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​
googhost.webp

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Roosterstrut was never necessarily an early riser. He had an especially difficult time sleeping lately but today turned out to be different. Figuring that he could be of use to his new clan, the red tabby joined up on a hunting patrol that was being gathered. Admittedly, he's never been a great hunter — you would never witness him bringing back large catches or mouthfuls of prey after an outing in the woods. Especially now in the midst of leafbare, his coat stuck out like a sore thumb. He made it a personal goal to catch something and not return to camp empty-pawed.

He was not off to a promising start.

The longhaired tom loses sight of his target—a mouse—as soon as he moves an inch from his position. Damn. Rooster swears internally, giving a defeated shake of his head. His mind was just all over the place lately, interrupting his concentration. He couldn't stop thinking about his old friends who had joined sides with Sable, who thought that launching an attack and forcibly taking over was the right thing to do. Had Needle gone with them? Had she been lost to the battle? Not knowing kept Roosterstrut up at night, as much as he tried to distract himself with work.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 ———————— 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒
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COPPER OF THUNDERCLAN

Copperstorm's paws itched with restless energy, yearning to drum against the ground in pursuit of prey. A squirrel, chipmunk, mouse... Anything would do. He craved the stretch of his legs, the thrill of the chase. It had been too long, it almost felt, since he truly let loose.

As his thoughts wandered, they inevitably drifted to Dewshine, and a swell of pride warmed him. She had left behind the comfort of her two-leg life, endured the chaos of war, and still... still, she remained with him. More than that, she thrived. Or at least, that's how he saw it. His love for her was vast, a constant, steady presence that filled his heart.

The hunt, however, hadn't gone to plan. The chipmunk had been too quick, darting away before he could get close. Frustrated but determined, he continued along... That was, until his attention shifted to a familiar figure... Ghoststrike.

Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, Copperstorm adjusted his pace to walk alongside him. He knew of Ghoststrike's... affections for Thunderflash. Though he wasn't even sure whether Ghoststrike himself understood such affections... Copperstorm wasn't one to openly meddle. Still, curiosity tugged at him. With a sly grin that revealed a hint of fang, Copperstorm leaned in slightly, his tone teasing yet casual.

" So. " he began, lazily flicking his tail as they padded onward, eyes scanning the territory. " You and Thunderflash seem... quite close, hmm? " He glanced sideways, his grin widening. " He must mean a lot to you. Which, of course, I get! He's a remarkable cat. Kind soul, strong heart. Hard not to admire him. "

His gaze lingered on Ghoststrike, equal parts amused and curious as he waited for a response.


you walk along the edge of danger ——･ﾟ✦​
･ﾟ✦ —— AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU



 

Owlbark was still reticent to participate fully in clan life. He refused to "share tongues" and if one more cat tried to make pleasant small talk with him he was going to start clawing off ears. Juniperstar herself would have to rip him from them. He blinked out of his morbid daydream to rejoin the patrol he had volunteered to join. In truth, he just wanted a reason to leave camp.

The longer he stayed in camp the more likely it was that he would have to keep playing nice for Juniperstar. He broke off from this hunting patrol as soon as he could have. He had been roaming these woods for almost his whole life and thought himself a proficient hunter. For himself, at least. Feeding a dozen new mouths with one piece of prey was proving to be tougher. It was a fun challenge for his skills, though. He could not deny that.

The tom moved through the bare underbrush, half-listening to Copperstorm's attempt at chattering several foxlengths away. He flicked his ear and continued to track prey-scent with an open mouth. Stale... every damn smell in this forest in sta-. That one. Fresh chipmunk smell flooded his mouth and he crouched low in response.

The fat stripey-thing bounded among tree roots, probably searching for extra nuts left over from leaf-fall. Owlbark padded softer and closer to the rodent, not taking his eyes off of it. With a great push from his haunches, the warrior propelled himself forward and sank his claws into the little thing, which gave a pitiful squeak as its last action.

Before Owlbark could bend down to pick up it up in his jaws, another chipmunk raced past. It's tiny fear scent made him think someone else from his patrol may have scared it his way. He was grateful for their blunder.

Owlbark quickly slammed a paw down onto the second chipmunk and felt a burst of satisfaction at the amount of prey he'd be taking back to camp. Was this what is was for? He did not have time to process that feeling. The warrior trotted back to the patrol with the two chipmunks dangling from his jaws. "Any luck?" He asked through furry bodies. The tom couldn't help but show off his spoils to what seemed to be empty handed cats.

i turned 'round and there you go *ੈ✩‧₊˚
 
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