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Beechpaw (he/him)
RiverClan ❍ 8 moons
brown-furred tabby tom with black stripes and golden eyes
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Skidding to a halt at the edge of the ruined thicket, Beechpaw immediately dropped into a hunter's crouch, eyes darting around the undergrowth for any prey that could be hiding there. His dusty pink nose twitched, a scent drifting through the air and catching his attention. He followed the scent trail towards a nearby thorny bush, the scent of squirrel growing ever stronger. There was no sign of Weaselfang, the tom that was supposed to have been with him on this trip. Ah well. Just another chance to show what he could do alone, without any help from stupid mentors.
Refocusing on the squirrel, he wiggled his hauches, springing forwards out of the grass. The poor rodent let out a squeal which was promptly cut off by a swift hip to the neck.
There, one down, two to go.
"Now maybe Gingerfrost will get off my tail." He muttered, off in search of more prey.
After catching a mouse and another smaller squirrel, Beechpaw turned back towards camp.