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Post by smokey on Oct 22, 2011 14:10:41 GMT -5
It was a dry day. Places on the ground that were usually muddy, or collected in small pools of water were merely crackled earth. Honeyfang sniffed the air around her, and picked up all sorts of trees and plants. What seemed to be missing was the scent of pray. Her breath caught in her throat and she chose not to say this horrible truth aloud. She daintily half stepped a few times to avoid the dirt on her paws and continued forward.
Glancing over to Spottedpelt and Pumpkinpaw she mewed, "Which way should we go?" Really her mind was screaming, Where is all the prey!?
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Post by ♦ stormeh ♦ on Oct 22, 2011 15:21:11 GMT -5
Spottedpelt was confused at how dry some parts of the ground were, and it felt strange and unfamiliar against her soft pads. All ShadowClan cats had soft pads, which adapted to the soft, marshy ground seasons ago. This allows their paws to make no sound as they stalk through the undergrowth, which is another reason why ShadowClan are considered sneaky and swift-pawed in the shadows. "We can try hunting by the Burnt Sycamore," she suggested, flicking her tail in anticipation.
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Post by |♥|Panther|♥| on Oct 22, 2011 20:25:40 GMT -5
The apprentice didn't care where they hunted, he just wanted to see the territory again. Sounds good to me and thats where the fox is too so we can check that out also He said. It sounded like a good plan to him.
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Post by smokey on Oct 23, 2011 13:10:57 GMT -5
Honeyfang nodded, she looked over at Pumpkinpaw, "Want to lead the way?" She wanted to give the apprentice a chance to show what he knew of the territory, and with it being so dry, even the muddiest routes would be easily manageable today. She did want to see the fox, curious as to how it died. If it was old and died, that was fine, but if it was killed, that meant a stronger fox or animal was still on their territory. She shivered with delight at that idea. It had been too long since she experienced the sensation she got when fighting. The last time she had chased a large male rogue cat strait off their territory, she smirked smugly remembering how surprised he had been to be defeated by a petite little she-cat.
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Post by ♦ stormeh ♦ on Oct 23, 2011 17:55:57 GMT -5
Spottedpelt pricked her ears at the mentioning of a fox, and frowned. "A fox? Hm, I haven't scented a fox in our territory.. let's go check it out - but remember, we're still hunting," she declared, changing her original route and heading for the Burnt Sycamore.
Keeping her senses alert, Spottedpelt wondered how the fox died. Foxes usually didn't come into their territory and die, unless they were old. But old foxes probably wouldn't think of coming into Clan territory, if they knew of the strong, fierce cats who lived there. Curious with each step, the patrol grew closer and closer to their destination.
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Post by |♥|Panther|♥| on Oct 23, 2011 18:57:35 GMT -5
Pumkinpaw jumped up happily and walked towards where the fox was. He walked over to it and sniffed it. Smells like a badger killed it. [/b] he said looking at the two she-cats. But the only question was, Where is the badger?[/blockquote]
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Post by smokey on Oct 24, 2011 0:58:04 GMT -5
Honeyfang made a face of disgust. "Yup, that's defiantly badger." She concluded with a sniff. "A badger that is capable of killing a fox this size is not one we want on our territory." She found herself speaking her thoughts out loud, and cared very little that her statement was obvious. Still the fox would have to be pretty stupid to engage itself with a badger, even if it was a big fox. Badgers were nasty animals. She shivered and looked about.
Sighing she mewed, "Well examining this fox isn't going to feed any mouths, we should pick up some pray then report back later about the fox and the badger," since Pumpkinpaw's mentor seemed more interested in sleeping than telling the clan of his findings Honeyfang remembered silently.
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Post by ♦ stormeh ♦ on Oct 24, 2011 7:02:01 GMT -5
Spottedpelt decided not to repeat everything that Honeyfang said, and instead examined the rotting fox closely. Finding a bush nearby, she picked up a long twig in her mouth, and bounded back toward her patrol. Slowly, she inched toward the fox until the twig was close enough to touch it.
"Yuck!" she mumbled through the wood, as she lifted the fox's lip and stared at it's yellow, spiked teeth. Spottedpelt imagined that large jaw clamping down on her throat, and ending her life. She shuddered. Throwing the twig to the ground, and swiped her tongue around her mouth a few times.
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