Closed The Colony keep it tactical [thunder]

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US

​

---

When the rain finally came to a stop, he'd been first to emerge from the log, pricked ears and a white skull with jaws open to taste the rain-sweet forest around them. The wind was still biting cold but there was less of it now that the worst of the storm had passed.

No scent of dog.

"All clear." he rumbled as he stepped out into the late evening air, pausing to roll his stiff shoulders and wincing at the pop they elicited. Cats like him weren't built for small spaces, and yet he doubted that would be the last time he found himself in tight quarters with another cat.

"Looks like the worst of the storm has passed." he noted, dark eyes trained upwards at the swirling clouds before lowering to fix themselves on Thunder instead. "Goin' back?" he asked, half-hoping they did, no longer sure what had inspired him to invite them along to watch him hunt in the first place. A stupid, impulsive idea. They'd spent more than enough time together already, and he was almost sure that the chocolate tabby would draw the same conclusion after being cornered in a log with him for the better part of an hour.

@THUNDER hunting thread after the storm!
​

---

future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

​

 

[THUNDERFLASH]

☆ Ghost was far more cautious then he would have been- his eyes studied the broad shoulders of the tabby from behind him as he waited for the other to finish his check. What was he looking for? Avoiding? He thinks to himself, dwelling on that only for a half-second before Ghost is signaling there was no danger and moving. Thunder groaned as he finally got to stand straight, stretching his body out, a bit more verbal about the aches of being stuffed into a small space then Ghost was.

"Swee' stars, m' body hurts." Thunder yawned out, shaking out his mohawk and standing straight, toes wiggling against damp moss and dead leaves. "Hm?" He glanced towards Ghost, questioned about what he was doing. "Oh. Heh. I uh.. made a rule for m'self. Don't go back 'less I have a kill t' feed someone. Th' kits. " He said, almost awkwardly shielding his vision for a moment. "Worry 'bout them goin' hungry before they can even hunt for th'mselves." Thunder explained.

His eyes scanned Ghost finally, eyeing those shoulders once more before moving towards Ghost's face again. "Y' invited me t' hunt, so, tha's what we'll do. I'll let y' go first, Ghostie." He grinned, turning his head towards the forest to start pathing their way through damp underbrush.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ITS TIME TO DO IT NOW ☆ AND DO IT LOUD

• "speech"
  

• 

• THUNDER he/him, future thunderclanner, nineteen moons.
  ☆ a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US

​

---

"Oh. Heh. I uh.. made a rule for m'self. Don't go back 'less I have a kill t' feed someone. Th' kits. Worry 'bout them goin' hungry before they can even hunt for th'mselves." "

Ghost was sure of it now. Thunder would not have survived in the Coalition. What didn't kill him physically would most certainly kill him in spirit.

"Of course you do.' he muttered, not surprised in the least but still clinging to his disapproval of it all. It was easier to reject than to understand. Easier to pretend that Thunder was the one with something wrong with him, when in reality Ghost knew he was something far more sinister. Would blue eyes still be so keen to look his way if they knew all the things that he'd done? The things he hadn't done?

"Come on, then. While we've still got the sun on our backs." he said, gesturing with a brief flick of his tail as he set a pace away from the log and deeper into the woodland.

The scent trails were all washed out thanks to the rain, so he didn't bother with trying to track anything by scent. Instead, he used his ears and common sense to navigate, listening for the sound of birdsong or the rustling of small paws shuffling through the leaves and slush.

Unlike in the log, where Ghost had been willing to entertain the bare minimum of what could constitute a conversation, out here it was very clear he expected silence and focus. A time to work, a time to play– though most would not call what Ghost did in his downtime 'play'. With no scent trails to follow he was forced to rely on his other senses instead, and that required focus.

scritch…scritch…

He froze mid step, tail lifting in silent signal for Thunder to do the same as he dropped into a low crouch, ears sitting forward atop a dark crown. The right one gave a steady flick, another silent signal that Thunder wouldn't understand. But Ghost was no longer focused on the chocolate tabby, darks eyes honed in on his prey like the predator he was.

The squirrel was digging around at the roots of a tree, shuffling around the leaves and slushy mud, no doubt looking for a food cache it'd stored there at some point prior.

Large paws fell silently through the wet leaves and damp earth, his form a hulking shadow of muscle and control as he crept toward the thing. Ghost had always been good at physical tasks. He'd made himself good, through repetition and practice, brutal routines that nearly killed him for his efforts. Nearly, but not quite.

When he finally made his move, it was without warning, more speed packed behind those muscles than most gave him credit for at a glance. His paws slammed down on the thing with such force that it's alarm cry was punched right out of its small lungs, and it wasn't a breath before his fangs were in it's throat finishing the job.

​

---

future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

​

 

[THUNDERFLASH]

☆ The mutter didn't go unheard, and Thunder twitched his ear at that, but declined on pushing it. Seriously, what was up with this guy? Showing up on the border half-dead, and now he was... sharing a log with him in the middle of the rainstorm? Looking for predators that Thunder had told him basically didn't exist, and now he was questioning Thunder on why he wanted to hunt? A frown crossed his face briefly, but it was wiped clean as Ghost suggested they keep moving. "Aye, let's." He said, almost cheerfully, moving to follow on Ghost's lead.

While Thunder had been much of a chatterbox within the log, here, he was different. His lips were closed and eyes wider, almost sparkling in the dying sunlight, both ears forward and attentive. That didn't come from Ghost's silent persona here, where he was at least willing to speak a sentence or two in the log- no, this is something that Thunder had been trained into. He didn't know what the signals meant from Ghost's ears as he indicated direction, but he followed to the best of his ability, almost bewildered- amazed, really- at the sight of the larger tom working.

Ghost stopped, and his own ears heard it too. The scratching of a small rodent amongst the forest, so he lowered himself instinctively, blending chocolate pelt into the undergrowth with a modicum of skill that went unseen in the colony's heart. Thunder was normally a lone hunter- it was quicker, that way, easier to ensure that others didn't snap a stick- but he did patrol with some from time to time. He watched with wide eyes as his companion, who he was learning was a lethal weapon of his own, caught the squirrel almost seamlessly. Only when Ghost stood with the prey did Thunder approach himself.

A soft whistle left him. "Downrigh' lethal, Ghost. Clean as dung, tha's for sure." He complimented, ears still forward but grin brightening the face that had been so serious only moments before. "Wherever y' came from, must've been a heck o' a paw t' have around."

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ITS TIME TO DO IT NOW ☆ AND DO IT LOUD

• "speech"
  

• 

• THUNDER he/him, future thunderclanner, nineteen moons.
  ☆ a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US

​

---

His gaze shifted at the whistle, and as Thunder neared he reminded himself that there was no need to safeguard his prey as viciously as he might have back home. Still, when he dropped his prey so he could answer– a reward for them having kept quiet without prompting– it was between his own feet and well out of reach of the mocha tomcat.

The praise wasn't necessarily new– there were plenty of older cats who'd been impressed with him, or younger ones envious of what he could do– and yet, it didn't sound the same coming from Thunder. Didn't quite feel the same, either.

"Best they had." he confirmed, though there didn't seem to be much pride behind the words. Just another statement. The sky is blue, my fur is grey, and I'm good at killing things. "Not that they made a profit off my prey. Coalition cats don't share their kills. Not usually." Though he was sure Thunder had put that much together by now given Ghosts sheer confusion over how things worked out here.

It was strange, talking to a cat about his home who wasn't also born there. Just about every cat on that side of the city belonged to their group, a literal coalition of colonies all coming together against a common enemy. A beautiful cause, twisted and warped into something unspeakably ugly. It's why the colony cats, curious as they were, would never get the full story from him, just vague bits and pieces to a picture they would have been able to paint anyways just from knowing him.

"Gonna show me how a colony cat does it?" he asked. Thunder might have better luck picking up a scent now that some time had gone by, but the temperature was going to drop considerably once the sun was gone and most of the prey would go to ground and wait for dawn, with perhaps the exception of a mouse or two.
​

---

future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

​

 

[THUNDERFLASH]

☆ That fact didn't go unnoticed- how closely that prey was between his paws. But like the rest of the colony, the thinning tom-cat shrugged it off. Everyone was weary over food these days- Thunder was nearing that edge himself, but like they had just talked about, he gave things away. He gave parts of his soul away, too. So Thunder didn't think much of it, and continued on as if his eyes hadn't caught on the prey briefly.

The Coalition, something that Ghost had mentioned once or twice, did give him a bad feeling in his gut. Each and everytime he brought them up, the spark in his eye grew like flame before easing back once more, a mask sliding into place over it. Unfeeling. That's the indication he got from the way Ghost talked about them. "Not usually, huh? Means y' aren't a big sharer now either, mm?" Thunder said, but it was rhetorical- he knew the answer to that question.

Thunder was snapped out of his thoughts once Ghost challenged him. And that it was a challenge- the way his eyes sparkled and the grin widened made Thunder tilted his head towards the bigger. "I'd be happy t', Ghostie." He said, moving to step past the tabby without a glance backwards. And with no other remarks, he fell silent, moving through the underbrush. His paws were careful in where they stepped, ever critical of any dead twigs or branches on the ground, leaves with too much crunch and not enough of a wet landing.

His ears were perked and rotating, mouth slightly parted to catch scent of anything and all. The damp smell of leaves, petrichor in the air, the tom-cat behind him- distracting. He glanced backwards, blue eyes studying Ghost, then over his shoulder. Like a whipcrack, Thunder stepped around him, leaping onto the trunk of the tree, claws digging in and flinging himself upwards. Teeth clamped around a squirrel in midair, and Thunder landed in a crouch, crunching down on the neck of his kill. Even for his slowly hungering form, Thunder's kills were precise and accurate, just how he liked them.

The tom stood slowly, stretching his legs out and dropping the squirrel between his paws. "Tha's how it's done." He hummed, near-purring with the grin on his face, amused at catching the prey in such a manner.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ITS TIME TO DO IT NOW ☆ AND DO IT LOUD

• "speech"
  

• 

• THUNDER he/him, future thunderclanner, nineteen moons.
  ☆ a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US

​

---

The grunt of agreement was low and short lived, but enough of a confirmation. 'Sharing is weakness', he thought to himself as dark eyes raked over the hunger-lean form of the cat across from him. Proof, standing right in front of him, even though there was some annoying, scratching thing in the back of his mind that wanted to disagree. That said he would have done the same thing, in another life.

Dogshit.

'Get on with it, then." he urged, not managing to shove as much of an impatient snap into it as he'd meant to. Regrettably, it almost sounded friendly. He was quick to put an end to any more pointless chatter by picking up his catch as Thunder set off to begin their own hunt.

He kept behind the other, a silent, steady shadow that did nothing to give away their position to any potential prey in the area. Begrudgingly mindful that this might be the only catch the tom got if the prey wasn't running. It was almost too easy to fall back into old habits, becoming the eyes and ears of the hunting patrol, the vigilant eyes ready to run interference on whatever mutt might come sniffing around. Like the good little soldier he was.

When the kill is eventually made, Ghost isn't left disappointed.

In a rush of movement Thunder stepped around him and lunged up one of the nearby trees, dragging a squirrel of their own down. It was a clean catch– not quite as silent as Ghost's, but that wasn't all that surprising. The blue-eyed cat seemed to live their life on a louder frequency than he did, so of course their hunting tactics would be no less explosive.

Still, he couldn't deny it was effective– this time around.

"Tha's how it's done."

Ghost could have been blind and he still would have seen the pride coming off the other as they stood over their catch, looking like the cat who caught the canary."Not bad. Might be hope for you colony cats, yet." he mused, the only praise the other would be winning from him tonight.

"So what now? You take that back for someone else to eat, then do it all over again to feed yourself?" he asked, tone as neutral as his expression despite his curiosity. Did Thunder just not eat on the days he couldn't catch a second meal? Or did he rely on the kindness of other cats whose hunting had been better?

What if nobody felt like sharing?
​

---

future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

​