- 1,140
- Posts
- 14
- Years
- Age 28
- Not here, at least.
- Seen May 1, 2016
Sleetstorm stalked the ball of fur. He could hear its tiny heart pulsing warm blood. He licked his lips as he flattened his quiet pads and shook his haunches in the air. His tail perked while his gaze narrowed down on the shuffling of grass. Then, a strong breeze and the mouse perked up its nose, sniffing. It didn't notice him, Sleetstorm was relieved. The mouse continued to nibble at its food, a little nut. Just as the mouse gulped down the last of its meal, the gray cat lunged forward and plunged his fangs into the mouse's neck. A cuff on its head, and the rodent was out.
He brought it back to a tree on the moor and pawed off the soil around it. It was one of his commonly-used place for storing fresh-kill. He placed the mouse in the hole, putting it side by side with 2 voles he hunted earlier. They came from the Thunderclan border and he knew he was not supposed to hunt near there, but well, who cares? There was enough time for him to reach his individual quota; he always set goals for himself. Something caught the hunter's attention-a rabbit. It was grazing in the middle of the large meadow. The wind picked up and Sleetstorm was after it in a flash. He bounded across the moor and he closer and closer to the escaping rabbit with each stride. Then, he leaped at the rabbit, claws unsheathed. It struggled under his weight and Sleetstorm bit it on the scruff and shook it limp. He went back to the tree and buried it together with the others.
An hour later, he was bringing the whole lot back to the Clan. His score: 3 mice, 2 rabbits, 3 hares and a thrush. He strolled into the camp and placed everything on the fresh-kill pile. He brought a couple of mice and shrews to the elders' den before hauling a hare for himself. He found a spot and settled down for his meal.
He brought it back to a tree on the moor and pawed off the soil around it. It was one of his commonly-used place for storing fresh-kill. He placed the mouse in the hole, putting it side by side with 2 voles he hunted earlier. They came from the Thunderclan border and he knew he was not supposed to hunt near there, but well, who cares? There was enough time for him to reach his individual quota; he always set goals for himself. Something caught the hunter's attention-a rabbit. It was grazing in the middle of the large meadow. The wind picked up and Sleetstorm was after it in a flash. He bounded across the moor and he closer and closer to the escaping rabbit with each stride. Then, he leaped at the rabbit, claws unsheathed. It struggled under his weight and Sleetstorm bit it on the scruff and shook it limp. He went back to the tree and buried it together with the others.
An hour later, he was bringing the whole lot back to the Clan. His score: 3 mice, 2 rabbits, 3 hares and a thrush. He strolled into the camp and placed everything on the fresh-kill pile. He brought a couple of mice and shrews to the elders' den before hauling a hare for himself. He found a spot and settled down for his meal.