The Colony slim pickings for the amateur \\ open

[plumestrike]

Plume trotted away from the Colony, spurred on by the ache in his stomach from lack of food. He wasn't the most proficient hunter, and leaf-bare was approaching fast. He headed in the opposite direction of the thunderpath, just generally not up to crossing it this evening. He'd previously had luck finding a frog or two on the other side where the ground became mucky, but his long fur made traversing the area a bit of a headache.

He really didn't like frogs, anyhow, and there weren't bound to be many left this far into the season regardless. Instead, he found himself stalking through the sparse undergrowth of a dryer portion of the forest, parting his jaws to scent for prey. There was little around, but he could just barely pick up the scent of a mouse. Cocking his ears forwards, he could start to hear the quiet scuffling as he drew closer. He slunk lower to the ground, and when it came into sight he slowed. It was nibbling on a small nut, so far oblivious to the large tom's approach.

Just a little closer... now!

He leapt, but the mouse was quicker than him and bolted away into the grass, vanishing from sight as his forepaws landed squarely where it had been a mere moment before. He cursed quietly, his tail twitching in frustration. Maybe he should've stayed in twolegplace after all.

His mind flashed with images of his brothers trapped in hard, shiny mesh, and he quickly dismissed the thought. At least he was safe from that, here.

He took a measured breath, collecting himself, before padding off in a new direction in search of more prey. He'd get the hang of it soon. He was sure.

 

[Garlicheart]

Maisie was a good hunter. She had to be, with the current living situation. She wasn't sure of her skills.... But she figures.... If she can catch a mouse, then shes good, right??? Right. And Maisie always try to uplift her fellow colony members. Plume might have missed this catch, but she can't judge him. Why, just the other day, she missed a mouse because her stomach rumbled and gave her away. It was unfortunate, but it was a reminder that she had to always do her best, or such things will happen again.


"Don't worry, I bet you'll get it next time!" She chirped, padding over to him.

Plume was way older than her, so he had to be SUPER skilled. Right? Thats how it works in her mind, so she gives him a bright smile. "You'll catch the biggest mouse, and everyone will be super jealous!"

Even with things so bleak, she tried to have hope that things would get better. It could happen at any moment, a fortunate turn of events.

 

[plumestrike]

Plume paused in his walking as Maisie approached, turning his head. He shouldn't have been surprised to see someone else out hunting- the Colony wasn't a small group, for sure- but he'd been a bit in his own head, and as such had to take a moment to collect his thoughts after she'd spoken. She was a familiar face around the Colony, but he couldn't quite place her name. He really needed to be more social.

When he did speak, it was with a small returned smile, "I appreciate the encouragement, I sure hope I will," his tail flicked to the side, gesturing to the woods around them, "I'm just not used to the forest, I think. Have you had any luck today?"

It was both him making polite conversation, and a hope to gauge how the prey was running that day. If it was truly terrible, he hoped that the escaped mouse wouldn't be the only thing he got the chance to try to catch.

 

[SABLE]

The rainfall of flat golden leaves stuck to Sable's pelt uncomfortably as again his skills are put to the test in this crowded forest. Even though the trees had practically shaken just about every leaf and stalk from their branches, the shrubs that hugged the ground below, wrapped around oak and rocky terrain felt suffocating.

His luck is no different than Plume's, if just a smidge worse off because a prey scent hadn't graced his nose at all. Their outcome remained the same, however, lost in their efforts to bring home food. "Doesn't look like there's much hope in this area." Sable's face is stone, deflecting his disappointment even if his tone gave it away. "I don't think I'm built to hunt in these lands. Too much to step on and get caught up in."

Sable looked over his shoulder behind him. If he started now, he might be able to check where in the wetlands prey might roam. "Is your dad out too, May?" Smoky had an awful better nose on his muzzle, maybe he would find better luck following along.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･sixty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[Frond]

‎

Frond blinked sympathetically as Plume trudged back to the group, her whiskers twitching. She could tell from his face alone that hunting out here was tantamount to futility, what with the weather changing and the forest beginning to close up for the winter. It made Frond shiver just to think of the rumbling bellies of her friends and family and their ragged pelts fluffed up against the cold. She didn't like it... not one bit.

Sable and Maisie speak up and Frond turns her delicate ears towards them, hoping to catch the lilt of words above the persistent buzz deep within her ear canal. ...next time!..... don't ..... hunt.... too much ... get caught up. Frond nose wrinkled at the jumble of incoherence and reassurance, but pressed forward with a smile. "Will there be an-y-thing in the marshes?" She could feel her tongue slide over the consonants uneasily, piecing together a sentence from sounds she felt rather than heard - she knew the cats of the colony could understand her well enough, but something akin to anxiety still prickled at her spine as she felt her voice dip where her hearing typically cut out when listening to another. Almost off-handedly, she gestured outward as she spoke and made a face: puffing out her cheeks rhythmically as a frog would. "Go out - frog," her direct family might have gleaned from this, marshland, where there were many frogs they might catch before the deep freezes set in.

 

[rowanheart]

Rowan stretches her paws out in front of her, spine curling as she yawns. She'd just woken up from a rather pleasant nap next to Love, whose company had kept her warm. Now she was well-rested, but also very hungry. She looks over at Love, considering whether or not to wake her friend up, but decides to let her sleep. Rowan liked the younger cat a lot, but she might have a better chance of finding something if she went on her own.

Having had to live on her own with her brother for some time before joining the colony, she'd grown into a decent hunter already. She tries to pick up the scent of her brother now, considering asking him to come with her, but she doesn't smell him on the air. No doubt he'd snuck off somewhere again to poke his nose into something he shouldn't. With an irritated flick of her tail, she padded in the direction of the forest, stopping to glance at Frond for a moment. Puffing her chest, she heads into the forest, ducking under a bush and parting her jaws to try and catch the scent of prey as she makes her way through the scarce undergrowth of leaf-fall.

It's not until sun-down that she finally catches the scent of a squirrel. By now she's cold down to her bones, which at this point in leaf-fall aren't very far from her skin at all. She stops, trying to pin down the direction from which the scent is coming. Lowering her body, she follows the trail, treading carefully over fallen leaves and dry grass as she goes. She spots it as she crawls under a bramble bush, sitting with it's back to her and digging around in the roots of a tree. She stills completely, eyes narrowing as she focuses on the little creature in front of her. It looks around, but then goes back to digging again. She begins to move forward, carefully, one step at a time, and then– she leaps into the air, landing clumsily but managing to sink her claws into the tail of the squirrel, who tries to scramble away, but too late– she bites down on it's neck, and it goes limp. She licks her teeth, enjoying the warm metallic taste of the blood and how it warms up her cold throat. She picks it up, and begins to head back towards the four-trees, letting the feeling of going down rather than up hill guide her, her nose full of the scent of fresh kill.

About half-way there, there's a loud rustle in a bush beside her, and then her brother leaps lightly onto the path in front of her, head tilted and tail swishing back and forth.

"Sister," Maple meows, "good hunting?"

Rowan puts the squirrel down, putting one of her paws in front of it, "not really," she replies. "This was all I could find, and I've been out since just after sunhigh."

"No need to protect your kill," Maple meows with a humorous purr. "I'm no thief. Besides, you're probably starving, right? What kind of brother would I be to steal your first meal in days?"

"It's not for me," Rowan says, shaking her head. "It's for Frond."

"But you caught it," Maple says, tilting his head again, looking almost owlish. "First come, first serve, no?" Rowan doesn't reply, so he sighs, padding forward to brush his nose against her shoulder. "Always the hero, eh sis?"

Before Rowan can reply, he's disappeared into the forest again. She sighs now, ears twitching with frustration. Her brother is too used to it being just the two of them, not having to share or look after anyone but themselves. But they had a colony now, a family... of sorts, anyway. She picks up the squirrel again and runs the rest of the way back to the colony, her muscles aching with cold.

At the edge of the clearing, she puffs her chest again– proud of her kill, and doing her part. She pads over to where Frond is lying curled up and places the squirrel in front of her, then gently pokes Frond's side with the tip of her tail. Frond stirs, looking up at Rowan curiously. Rowan pushes the squirrel towards her, ignoring how her own stomach gnaws at itself.

"For you," Rowan says. "And the kits," she adds, nodding towards Frond's round belly.