The Colony take the bull by the horns [semi-open/ hunting party]

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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OOC- This thread is only open to future Shadowclanners/Sable supporters! (Don't worry though! There will be a return thread that's open to the entire colony!!) Basically, Wolf is going to lead a group of future Shadowclanners out to hunt in the nearby woodland, where they will see much better success in finding prey than back at Fourtrees-- but will civil discontent rise even more when the return and refuse to share with Hawthornes followers?

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It had been amusing enough, sitting by and watching these cats choose to metaphorically drown when there was a perfectly good raft floating feet away from them, but things were getting to a point where Wolf had to either interfere, or go back to looking after just himself. Which, granted, was what he'd been doing anyways since joining the disorganized group of colony cats, but if he was honest he could see the potential of what the place could be with a little discipline. That cats here (some of them, at least) seemed to know what they wanted but lacked the initiative to go out and get it, and the monochrome chimera was beginning to think that all they needed was a little push in the right direction. Someone to show them that taking action was easy, so long as they knew what their goal was.

So, as he sat there among yet another group of cats who seemed frustrated by Hawthornes lack of action and the territories shortage of prey, the large, mottled tom got to his paws. "This complaining isn't getting anything done." he announced with a dismissive flick of his tail. "Anyone who wants to sit here hunting the same overworked stretch of land is free to do so, but anyone who wants to eat their fill or send their families to bed on a full stomach tonight, feel free to tag along. We'll be back before nightfall-- with food."

He was already making his way toward the camps exit, steps unrushed but confident. He knew where to go. Hell, he was sure there were at least a dozen cats here who'd come from the world beyond the colony; cats who should know well enough that there were plenty of opportunities to be found nearby. That was probably the most frustrating and ironic part of it all. If these cats had all been colony born shut-ins with no clue what lay beyond the little space they called their home, he might have given them a bit more leeway. But currently there was no excuse for one of them not taking charge about it, and the longer he stayed there waiting, the clearer it became that the only way it would get done was if he went and did it himself.

And he wouldn't call it sympathy that drove him to invite the others so much as it was disappointment. It was his first encounter with a group of that size and there was so much damn potential that watching them waste away was almost painful, especially when the answers seemed to obvious. P

Then again, cats like Thunder would probably argue that it wasn't-- that there had to be a 'less cruel' path. That idiot would end up dead with the rest of them with a mindset like that, trying to save everyone only to perish with them in the end. Life was cruel, and sometimes to survive in it a cat had to be as well. If they couldn't bring themselves to do the bare minimum like turn someone away because of a prey shortage, or travel a little farther to hunt in new territories, then they probably weren't adaptable to survive out here.
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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

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[GROTTOWATCHER.]

Carving out a life beyond Fray's colony. How quickly had it evolved from an idea into an ideology? He couldn't quite say, but it was becoming evident in the words that some cats passed about. Spoken in pure conviction and braced by guarded looks. Their impassioned visions of their future took root elsewhere - but what else was there for them to do? Inaction is a self-eating serpent; the decline is already upon them, and each passing day without a solution only invites greater hardship.

No longer did Karst think of an exodus as a potential outcome, but a probable one. And more importantly, a necessary one. To stall progress that benefits many is a betrayal of moral obligation. So Karst feels, as he pads beside the imposing frame of Wolf and a few others who join their hunt. The journey to these unexplored grounds is a long and taxing one, yet it is not a path they walk blind. Their steps are guided by the same enthused fervour that the sable-pelted tom had shown days and days before.

A frosty draft passes by, making his ear flinch uncomfortably as he tilts his head skywards. "It's been a long while since I've walked so far," his voice is quiet, and somewhat appreciative. A smile, then, and a nod of approval toward Wolf. "But, change is nice. Change is important. It's what will keep us going."

Karst's tail flicks, briefly catching the wind like a wayward leaf. His eyes are a dark gold in the dwindling light. "May we hunt well," he concludes with a brief glance toward the other cats about him. He hopes that tonight's venture proves successful, not only for its immediate gains, but to instil a sense of hope among them. That there is something out there; that a future worth striving for, one which shall benefit them all.

 

[BRAMBLE]

I'VE BECOME THE WORLD'S MOST HARMLESS AND ARROGANT PIECE OF TRASH

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A sigh escaped Bramble's maw as he followed the crowd, ears twitching. It was farther out than he had ever really been, as far as he could remember at least. But, as Karst so nicely put it change was important. Change would keep them going.

Even if he didn't care for change all too much.

He responded with a nod to the hopes that they hunt well, a silent prayer echoing within his mind. If he could catch something, that'd be a win. He wouldn't be completely useless. Green eyes scanned the area, narrowing. A once-over, an assessment to see if it was any more plentiful than where they already hunted.

Those that took initiative, or believed in such initiative would get the prize. Bramble would not waste his spoils on those that cared not to question the weak authority. No, but it would certainly prove how wrong they were.​

OOC TAGS

• OOC —— xxx
• 
  You're

  tailor-made

  for this day and age
  'Cause you're

  powerless and look like prey

  
  You are fooled by the way that

  this act behaves

  
  And your beating heart has

  gone insane

  ​
  ​
• BRAMBLE - He/Him
  ♡ Short-haired black tabby with low white and green eyes
  ♡ Colony Cat - Warrior of ShadowClan
  ♡ 13 moons; ages on the 1st of every month
  ♡ "Speech", Attack / Actions
  ♡ Peaceful / healing powerplay allowed
  ♡ Image credit to Hit Point Co. for Neko Atsume and micamone for the base.
  
  
  penned by AnemoVictorious​

​

 

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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OOC- Any Sable supporters can join in at any time!! Optional roll had him finding a moderately sized squirrel!

It wasn't the first time Wolf had joined forces with others in order to score himself a meal, but it was the first time the mottled tomcat had ever done so with a purpose beyond that. The chimera had never had a need to prove anything to anyone else before, well aware of his own capabilities and worth, but there was no mistaking this for anything else; he was proving a point to every stubborn colony cat that refused to take the obvious solution. And you could bet your ass that when he got back, he wouldn't be sharing a single scrap of meat or fur with any of them.

Fortune didn't just favor the bold, it favored those who were able to adapt to new circumstances. And maybe he couldn't relate to the feeling of wanting to keep a family fed or friends alive, but he could understand that age-old instinct to survive.

"I imagine most of the cats who weren't born into the colony feel the same. Imagine having all this space and refusing to use it. I imagine it's... restrictive. Like being locked in a twolegs nest." he replied, scowling lightly at the thought. He had nothing against the cats who chose that as their lifestyle, but he could never imagine wanting it for himself. Growing too soft to survive on his own and being locked away with hardly any free will to call your own was far from the life he would choose for himself. Better a fox snatch him up, first.

Mismatched eyes shifted sideways to glance at Karst as the tom wished them all good luck on their hunt, and the patchwork nomad couldn't help but note how long it'd been since someone else had wished him well so casually. Life was more a competition among loners like himself, temporary alliances rarely hoping for the success of anyone but themselves. And he was no different, just another selfish cog grinding away in order to make life a little more liveable for himself.

Occasionally though, there'd been cats with attitudes that differed from his own; friendly barncats offering mice during a cold winter, a small family of cats in a junkyard with more birds and rats than they could eat, a lone elder kittypet who couldn't chase the squirrels out of his humans garden like he used to.

Cats with enough to spare. Which Karst did not.

"We will." he assured the tom, confident that the strips of land he'd been sneaking away to hunt had not gone dry already. "Predators hunt these lands as well, though. Stay sharp if you don't want to become the prey." It was a warning he was sure some of them did not need, but others who'd chosen to come, younger cats who hadn't spent as much time beyond the colonies grasp, could likely use the reminder after being so sheltered for so long.

He'd led them south of the colonies campsite, to the thick stretch of woodland running between it and Twolegplace. While the trees were barren, their colorful leaves now dead on the forest floor, Wolf knew the place was heavy with underbrush that sheltered from the winds, and that critters liked to hunker down amongs the roots and rocks and shrubs to get out of the wind while foraging. If the other cats could figure out how to navigate the crunchy foliage underfoot, there'd be prey to be found almost certainly.

As he broke away from the group, it didn't take him all too long to come across the sound of leaves shuffling around. Carefully he crept forward, each step calculated and precise as he made his way around a cluster of bushes to spot a squirrel scavenging at the base of a tree nearby. The thing made it three strides up the tree before Wolfs teeth were in it, dragging it back down and pinning it beneath large paws to deliver a killing blow. The taste of warm blood had his mouth watering for a bite of fresh, warm meat, but he forced himself to wait, knowing the colder corpse would taste much sweeter if eaten in front of Hawthornes followers.
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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars
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