Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
A persistent light drizzle of rain brought the smell of toad to the forefront of Owlthroat’s mind. It was hard to ignore with the pangs in his stomach. It seemed like both him and Newtbelly were in the same predicament, nothing to eat that looked appetising enough on the fresh kill pile.
His black nose lowered to the ground as he inhaled deeply, but scenting wasn’t needed much as if on command the toads seemed to break into a cacophony of croaking. His ears flickered upwards and he offered Newtbelly a hungry grin before stalking forward. Happening upon a juicy thickset creature perched ontop of a rock enjoying the drizzle.
Owlthroat was on it in a second, toads were his favourite catch due to their ease. They didn’t require much in terms of elegance or stealth, nor did they move at any sort of decent speed.
[ + 1 Toad ]
He didn’t take long to tear the creature in two, divvying it between himself and his former apprentice. They’d both think and hunt better with some energy inside them first. His teeth sank into it and he couldn’t help but grumble with pleasure at its taste. ”Thank Starclan for these fat, slow, tasty creatures.” Owlthroat mumbled the joke out between mouthfuls, trying to balance eating and chuckling at the same time. Making awfully short work of it.
Huh - looks like this might be an easy one. Seemingly out of nowhere, the symphony of croaks began. The rain must have drawn them out, the strange creatures they were. Not unlike him though - he did enjoy a slight drizzle. What he did not enjoy, was it when it inevitably turned him into a cold shivering sack of a cat. But, that wouldn't happen for a long while today, not with the patter being soft as it was.
Ah! Dinner was on the way, thank goodness. He tailed Owlthroat, who quickly grabbed one from a nearby rock. "You can say that again," his tail twitched, as he continued to skulk around in hopes of finding one for himself. Yellow paws (well, brown paws in this mud) crept atop the very rock Owlthroat's toad had been on. He peered over the low edge, and - aha! A smaller one was enjoying a puddle just below. Not on his watch! He quickly speared the creature with his claws, and scooped it onto the rock - which he'd now claimed as his own place to lie. "We bettmph grab something for the clan." He suggested, mumbling round his mouthful,"aftemph this."
SQUIRRELRISE she/her | 20 moons | small, scarred russet and brown molly with white markings and yellow eyes
[ chill of death, hulk SMASH ]
ah, so foxpaw hasn't had hunting training yet. though, he has had battle and stealth, the latter of which would probably help him the most today. with an incline of her head, squirrelrise speaks up. "it..does have..aspects of..s-sstealth..in it," she meows, dropping into a hunters crouch. "this is..a hunter's crouch...it's s-ssimple..for the most part. just keep your..paws a - a shoulder's width apart..and your tail off..of the ground. your belly..sh-should..be close to it..but shouldn't - shouldn't touch.. the ground." she explains, allowing a few moments to pass for the tom to digest the information.
"the..most important thing..to remember is..to keep quiet. be aware..of your s-ssurroundings..and the..way the wind is blowing. s-sstay..downwind of..prey." she adds on, rising to her paws again. she doesn't want to keep the others waiting for too long, so unfortunately she can't find some pinecones for practice. "you can..watch me..catch a - a piece..of prey. so you can..get an idea..of it. if you..would like." she offers with a click of her tail.
whether foxpaw follows her or not is up to him, but after catching a few scents, squirrelrise starts to pad away-- not too far. dropping into a crouch like before, her ears swivel before her eyes land on not one, but two frogs. after slowly creeping towards the amphibians, she quickly pounces and manages to snag and kill one swiftly. she successfully catches the second one, snatching it right before it hopped too far away. okay, time to move onto whatever else she could find - she seems to be doing pretty good so far.
russet ears catching the sound of rustling, she drops into a crouch once again and stalks towards a shrew. though, as soon as she actually leaps at the shrew, it slips back into it's underground burrow. she suppresses a sigh and shakes her head, but swiftly moves on as she spots a bird in the distance. remaining in a crouch, she creeps closer until she's a tail length away from the raven. she manages to pounce on it and quickly kill it with a bite to the neck. gathering up her catches, she pads back to foxpaw.
Foxpaw listened to Squirrelrise's explanation. Again, more or less what he'd expected. That crouching stance was something of a constant throughout a warrior's life, he was beginning to notice. And staying downwind of prey--that was just another aspect of stealth. Shouldn't be too hard.
Then Squirrelrise offered to give Foxpaw a demonstration. Great. It was an option, but the apprentice knew that he had to do it--or should, rather. Nothing was ever really as easy as it seemed. If he wanted to get a few pieces of prey within a decent amount of time, he'd have to do this.
Foxpaw crept on behind the warrior, his brows raised as she managed to catch two frogs in one go. The apprentice doubted he would be that lucky, but he at least had a better idea of how to approach prey. Basically, he'd have to be fairly precise when leaping at them, considering their smaller size. Additionally he would have to scrape some dirt over his catch to keep scavengers at bay.
At this, he unceremoniously diverged from the warrior and went to find something of his own. He breathed in the scents of the mire, and it wasn't long before he caught the scent of another frog. Not exactly Foxpaw's idea of a tasty meal, but he wouldn't be eating it and thus didn't care.
He crept forward, keeping a mixture of Squirrelrise's hunting and Flytail's stealth training in his mind. He had to become a shadow, so to speak; probably not as effectively as Flytail could, but enough to fool an idiot frog, at least.
Once Foxpaw was within leaping distance, he surged forward, his eyes fixed on his prey. To his own surprise he'd managed to catch it, his front paws landing squarely on the tiny beast. He dispatched it in the same way Squirrelrise had.
After that, he'd missed a few catches but had managed to snag a dove in the end. He figured his patrolmates had probably caught more in that amount of time, but he was just starting out, so they had no choice but to cut him some slack, as far as he was concerned. Besides, at that point, they were lucky he managed to keep himself from just throwing up his paws and going back to camp, so there.
In any case, he collected his prey and went on to meet back with Squirrelrise.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat found himself nodding to Newtbelly’s suggestion as he finished off his final leg of the toad. ”We’re certainly not in short supply here, let's grab as many as we can carry.” Finally he stood, flickering out the droplets from his thick fur and prowling forward once more. Mud lapping at his ivory fur. The air was still thick with sounds of both rain and ample prey.
Owlthroat found his next victim with relative ease, cowering behind a tree stump. Then his next in the brush close by, both hooked swiftly with jagged black talons.
[ +2 Toad ]
”I forgot to ask, been keeping occupied?” It was a relatively innocent question from the Enforcer, but one that hinted at more. He liked to keep tabs of course. And who was more his accolade than Newtbelly, a big achievement for a mentor to stake claim to.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat found himself nodding to Newtbelly’s suggestion as he finished off his final leg of the toad. ”We’re certainly not in short supply here, let's grab as many as we can carry.” Finally he stood, flickering out the droplets from his thick fur and prowling forward once more. Mud lapping at his ivory fur. The air was still thick with sounds of both rain and ample prey.
Owlthroat found his next victim with relative ease, cowering behind a tree stump. Then his next in the brush close by, both hooked swiftly with jagged black talons.
[ +2 Toad ]
”I forgot to ask, been keeping occupied?” It was a relatively innocent question from the Enforcer, but one that hinted at more. He liked to keep tabs of course. And who was more his accolade than Newtbelly, a big achievement for a mentor to stake claim to.
The tom nodded, finishing the creature off. He'd realised today, that toads really didn't appear to have many thoughts at all. They just seemd to sit around, unaware of the seemingly obvious threat surrounding them. maybe he'd be much happier if he could live like that. Nothing to get het up on, though. He forced himself up from the rather comfortable rock, actually feeling a bit of appreciation for the light drizzle from the sky, as it pattered onto his nose.
He crept around, circling thefront of the rock - nothing else here. So, he continued to skulk around. There was another big puddle, just ahead - and look what was resting beside it. He crouched down, gazing at his prey. [rolling for how many he finds lol - Rolled: 10]. Then, slunk foreward, blending into the shadows [shadow fiend]. Pouncing felt like overkill, when the creature's mind seemed so empty that it wouldn't even run. Then, he simply dashed foreward, out of the shaodws, and speared it. Thanks for your life, you weird lazy lump. Hope it was a good'un - lots of drixzzley rain or... Whatever else it is toads enjoy. He peered around, hoping to find another, but it seemed this guy had the whole puddle to himself.
[+1 Toad]
Owlthroat had found some others - seems he'd need to catch up, huh? He briefly rolled his shoulders, beggining to search around the trees. Keeping occupied? He liked to think he always was. But he supposed he'd like to find more to do. Perhaps he should kick something about thickening the camps thicket walls? He wasn't much of a lifter, but as he thought about it, perhaps he could lead something? He wasn't sure. Itsometimes felt to him that he wasn't undertaking enough responsibilities - he wanted to prove that he was worth this role.He wouldn't let that much on, though. "Trying to. Been hunting as much as I can, doing a few spars," he smiled, hoping the last bit would impress his senior. "Yourself?"
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat’s lips curled into a smile as Newtbelly spoke, seems like he was indeed keeping busy. It pleased him to know, particularly when it came to sparring. Nothing like keeping the claws honed and ready for battle. Despite it being rather dull as of late, not for Owlthroat of course. The enforcer had been plenty busy with his own challenge against the now promoted Rookfire. It had brought the excitement he needed back to his life.
However he still couldn’t help but crave for a real, honest to Starclan, battle. Something where he could kill and shred apart a couple cats without blinking so much as an eye. He’d had to adapt that fight as to not cause permanent injury, as did Rookfire. ”Apart from the challenge, I must say things have been rather lackluster.” He chortled as his eyes roamed the ground in search of more toads. He hadn’t spotted another quite yet.
”You think you’d hold your own against a challenge?” The question was a curious one, he wanted to guess if Newtbelly had the self belief. He didn’t know how he would truly fare, he’d like to think well seeing his experience by now and his training from yours truly. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d be rather bitter if he lost, but there was rumblings of change and even a clueless oaf like Owlthroat could feel that. Flytail was already whispering in his ear for extra training, vowing he would go against Rookfire. But he couldn’t see his brother having the ability to defeat him, Rookfire was a good fighter. Not as good Owlthroat, he egotistically believed. Flytail was a decent fighter but his brother had never been a bruiser like himself, perhaps he’d pick a different target. Maybe Briarsplash? Mind you she was formidable in her own right.
SQUIRRELRISE she/her | 20 moons | small, scarred russet and brown molly with white markings and yellow eyes
[ chill of death, hulk SMASH ]
meeting back up with foxpaw, squirrelrise notes his catches and gives him an approving nod before leading the way back to the point the group had originally split up at. by the looks of it, they'd all gathered a decent amount of prey. and looked to be alive. she'd say this patrol went pretty well!
placing her catches down briefly, she speaks up. "let's go..back to - to camp," she meows, picking the prey back up afterwards and beginning to lead the way back to camp.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat’s lips curled into a smile as Newtbelly spoke, seems like he was indeed keeping busy. It pleased him to know, particularly when it came to sparring. Nothing like keeping the claws honed and ready for battle. Despite it being rather dull as of late, not for Owlthroat of course. The enforcer had been plenty busy with his own challenge against the now promoted Rookfire. It had brought the excitement he needed back to his life.
However he still couldn’t help but crave for a real, honest to Starclan, battle. Something where he could kill and shred apart a couple cats without blinking so much as an eye. He’d had to adapt that fight as to not cause permanent injury, as did Rookfire. ”Apart from the challenge, I must say things have been rather lackluster.” He chortled as his eyes roamed the ground in search of more toads. He hadn’t spotted another quite yet.
”You think you’d hold your own against a challenge?” The question was a curious one, he wanted to guess if Newtbelly had the self belief. He didn’t know how he would truly fare, he’d like to think well seeing his experience by now and his training from yours truly. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d be rather bitter if he lost, but there was rumblings of change and even a clueless oaf like Owlthroat could feel that. Flytail was already whispering in his ear for extra training, vowing he would go against Rookfire. But he couldn’t see his brother having the ability to defeat him, Rookfire was a good fighter. Not as good Owlthroat, he egotistically believed. Flytail was a decent fighter but his brother had never been a bruiser like himself, perhaps he’d pick a different target. Maybe Briarsplash? Mind you she was formidable in her own right.
Ah, the challenge. He'd avoided the subject. Honestly, he worried that he'd talk too negatively of Rookfire and appear imature - especially when Owlthroat clearly hadn't taken the challenge personally. And - well, the concerns plauging his mind when it came to the clear cut running down the large cat's nose. Concerns regarding how that related to the challenge. He'd ignore those concerns as best as he could. If Owlthroat wanted to share, he would.
Anyway. The challenge itself. As much as he craved some excitement in his life, he was eternally glad that he wasn't the one up there. So, the next question made his breath stop. His faith in his own ability to hold his own... Wasn't high. At least, not aqainst any cat older than himself.
He supposed it was one of the things that caused his thirst for battle: lack of experience. He had faith that his training was top standard, but what was training without real world pratice? Without ever actually getting his claws out in the face of another cat? It did shock him that ShadowClan had been so peacefull; Right from his warrior ceremony till now, there hadn't been a single major battle. Not against other cats, anyway. He was still sour that he hadn't been chosen for the assault on RiverClan (despite knowing how reasonable it was for him to not attend).
"It depends on the cat." He sighed. There was no use lying to Owlthroat. He figured he knew him too well. Plus, claiming that he could best a warrior twice his senior would be foolish. Even Rookfire, around the same age as him, would have torn him to shreds. Of course, that was a matter of experience. Though he didn't know the ins and outs, it appeared that Rookfire's life had been... Tumultuous? He'd never asked about it. They hadn't ever spoken, really. All he knew about him was his RiverClan heritage. And he figured, something big must have to happen, to make a cat change clans. Either that, or RiverClan really was that much of a mess. Either way, it was clear just from the way he behaved. He was a cat with experience. Not that any of that was worth thinking much about now. For some unbeknownst reason, he'd ended up challenging Owlthroat. So luckily, ShadowClan's newest form of derranged entertainment was not watching Newtbelly get his pelt absolutely destroyed.
It was obvious though, that Rookfire's challenge had sparked a fire in the heart of the ambitious clan. There weren't many known cats he'd anticipate a challenge from, though. Mosstangle was a great warrior, but he couldn't imagine her challenging any of the current enforcers. Flytail was clearly ambtious, but he couldn't imagine him challenging Newtbelly. Maybe he'd go for Rookfire, looking for revenge on his brother's part? It would make sense - he seemed to have a more volatile personality than Owlthroat. He could certainly get upset on his brother's behalf. Who else... Fernsmoke had proven a powerfull warrior in their spar. Though, like Mosstangle, she didn't strike him as somecat that would want to challenge any of the current enforcers.
Perhaps some new warriors would come foreward. That would make sense. "If any new warrior thinks they're big news, I'll send them running back to the apprentice den." He explained with a scoff. The gall required to challenge an enforcer, as some itty bitty 12 moon old, had to be immense. The total lack of disrespect, he decided, would ignite enough fury in him to smite any little guy into next moon. It's the same kind of thing that bugged him about Rookfire's challenge. Though, of course Rookfire was far older than 12 moons. He'd calmed down about it a little, after learning that Owlthroat was actually not the returning enforcer's choice. But still, if it were Briarsplash or Tuftedtusk, he'd be just as upset. He was sort of hanging onto the hope that he was the intended reticipent. Perhaps Hawkbite wanted to save him the embarassment... Or, Owlthroat threw himself in the ring to protect him? Stars, he'd never know. "But it'd be foolish to belive that I could beat my seniors. Expereince and age are important factors." He shrugged, attempting to look non-chalent about the thought. "Even Rookfire - if he can match you, well - I wouldn't stand a chance." He paused, "not to say I'm weak." He tapped the tom's shoulder with his tail, playfully. "Just nothing compared to my own mentor, eh?"
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Newtbelly’s honesty wasn’t something that Owlthroat had expected. He paused but cracked a grin as he playfully flickered at him with his tail. He’d expected Newtbelly to seem more assured with his skills but he couldn’t entirely contend the words he spoke. He wasn’t wrong, but Owlthroat wanted him to be wrong. Wanted him to demolish any threat that would be laid out in front of him. He knew that he’d give it his best of course, that wasn’t his doubt.
”I err, don’t say it much, but I have faith in you. We can all be compelled to do great things when necessary.” His praise ended as swiftly as it had begun and he quickly lost eye contact. Moving on and pretending that he said nothing at all. It’s not that it was forced from his lips or anything, he truly believed what he spoke. But even after all these moons he’d never let go of his image that easily, he’d gotten better of course. He doubted the younger him would’ve let something like that slip from his maw.
His wrinkled nose pressed into the ground once more, refocused on his task. It didn’t take long to stumble upon another toad which he thanked Starclan for as it broke his focus. His claws outstretched, hooking into its slimy skin as it clumsy tried to hop away.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Enforcer | 47 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Newtbelly’s honesty wasn’t something that Owlthroat had expected. He paused but cracked a grin as he playfully flickered at him with his tail. He’d expected Newtbelly to seem more assured with his skills but he couldn’t entirely contend the words he spoke. He wasn’t wrong, but Owlthroat wanted him to be wrong. Wanted him to demolish any threat that would be laid out in front of him. He knew that he’d give it his best of course, that wasn’t his doubt.
”I err, don’t say it much, but I have faith in you. We can all be compelled to do great things when necessary.” His praise ended as swiftly as it had begun and he quickly lost eye contact. Moving on and pretending that he said nothing at all. It’s not that it was forced from his lips or anything, he truly believed what he spoke. But even after all these moons he’d never let go of his image that easily, he’d gotten better of course. He doubted the younger him would’ve let something like that slip from his maw.
His wrinkled nose pressed into the ground once more, refocused on his task. It didn’t take long to stumble upon another toad which he thanked Starclan for as it broke his focus. His claws outstretched, hooking into its slimy skin as it clumsy tried to hop away.
He blinked. Praise? From Owlthroat? Not that was rare. Especially in a situation like this, he supposed, where anything was yet to actually happen. He wasn't sure if the tom's support made him feel better or worse. The opinion of a cat he trusted and respected, of course, meant the whole world to him. But it would also weigh heavy upon his shoulders. If he were to betray that faith, find himself absolutely destroyed in battle, despite it all... He'd be mortified. Great things though, he thought on that, for a second. If he couldn't beat a more experienced warrior in might, perhaps he could outsmart them. Or even just... Do something unexpected? If he could think up some unusual tactic, perhaps victory could be his.
"Thanks." Praise accepted even more awkwardly than it was given. He could normally be a bit of a wind up with Owlthroat, but that was when he was being his usual groggy self. He didn't know how to handle positives. So, he continued sneaking about the trees in silence. Another, weird, empty-headed creature was hopping along. It only took a quick crouch and pounce. Though, for a second it did feel like the thing was going to slip through his claws. Mmmm. He wished he could chomp it down, but he couldn't justify that. He'd had his fill, more would just be greedy.
Re: Darkwater Mire
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