Windclan
|
13 posts
|
0 likes
|
Jul 3, 2016 14:01:56 GMT -5
|
|
Post by Leopardheart on Dec 28, 2015 14:39:40 GMT -5
Broad paws moved over the treeless territory, his paws picking up dirt beneath his claws as the soft earth shifted beneath his paws, while wide pigmented eyes watched ahead of him lazily. The air was cold as it brushed through his winter coat, the earth icy on his tough paw pads making it uncomfortable to walk on. The leopard marked tom took wide strides, he wanted to hunt. He wanted to chase a rabbit over the moorlands, to feel the green leaf grass beneath his paws with the warm sun beaming onto his cream pelt, and yet Starclan had cursed them with cold weather, he wouldn't have been surprised if it began snowing, but the clouds remained reluctant looming over the earth shadowing the moor and predicting a cold night. The young warrior wanted to run, to feel free in the clan again. Clans were arguing and the future seemed dim, cats grew ill during the cold weather and he himself struggled with the mistake of challenging a Thunderclan cat - to say he regretted it was an understatement. Being a usually friendly and non combative tom he surprised himself with the unusual violent tendency he took when challenge the newly made warrior of Thunderclan as he stood over his clan mate. What was done couldn't be change but it didn't stop the tom cat from overthinking his mistakes.
In that moment he broke in a sprint, his long legs stretching out in wide stances and his back curving perfectly, he could have sworn his paws didn't even touch the ground. Leopardheart felt as though he was gliding over the territory his paws touching the ground lightly as the wind pushed against his body in a satisfying wave of fresh air. He remembered the tales of the clans from moons ago, how windclan had both moor runners and tunnelers. He couldn't imagine being underground, cramped and scratching through dirt from the morning. His mother said they were always destined to be moor runners, and that you could tell which cats were descendants of tunnelers, and yet Leopardheart never quite believed her stories. The cats of Windclan loved running, they were the fastest clan of the four, they were the best at running - not digging. And what use would cramped dark tunnels to cats who ran best in open spaces. It seemed ridiculous. He thought to Creampaw , the pretty she-cat he found himself fawning over recently, he couldn't imagine her pale fur marked with the wet soils beneath the surface more than he could himself. Especially since he was the tallest in Windclan, he probably wouldn't even fit in a badgers den comfortable. The leopard cat snorted as he ran with muscles rippling beneath soft fur that shined like a Riverclan cats.
The clan needed food, simple as. Though the rabbits running through the plush fields was a memory of Green Leaf, now it was Leafbare. All of the few squirrels lay hidden in their dens with hoarded nuts, while rabbits tried to stay in their burrows for as long as the could and mice lay hidden, with thin birds soaring peacefully above the clans, safe and out of reach of the clan cats. He envied them, the ability to fly so high and see any threats from miles away, to have an common food source such as berries and various nuts and herbs that littered the earth and twoleg gardens. His paws stopped moving, leaving a line of claw marks in the soft ground as he came to a halt near the abandoned fox hole. The pungent stench of the fox was stale by the now but any trained cat could still smell the faint stench left behind that he feared would never leave the Windclan territory. Annoyingly it was one of the most suitable places to make a catch, the hole was good protection for the rabbits and mice who were foolish enough to build their nests there. Leopardheart needed to feel his jaws wrapped around the plump neck of a rabbit, and in a moment, snap the weak bones. He wanted to feel in control again, to feel like himself, to feel like the warrior he was. A good hunt always cleared the toms mind, he couldn't worry about something and might or might not happen, maybe the clans were promised peaceful moons for a long time into their future, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread deep in his gut.
He dropped his jaw, scenting the earth around him waiting for the familiar smell of rabbit to hit the back of his throat. When it did his wide black lined eyes caught sight of the grey creature shuffling near the fox hole, it's tail twitching as it moved. Leopardheart found himself creeping forward with light paws, his mouth watering at the scent of good prey. The rabbit wasn't plump but it wasn't thin either, a good enough meal for a warrior to keep their strength up. When he was close enough he pounced forward into a sprint, taking off after the swift rodent as it bounced across the moorland with frightened steps. His paws hardly touched the ground as he ran, his long tail held perfectly behind him keeping him well balanced until he was close enough. His hind legs pushed him off the ground in a horizontal line forward, skidding with his fore legs stretch out in front of him with the rabbit held beneath a powerful paw with ease. The earth folded as he pushed forward, his paws marked brown from the dirt. He looked at his squirming catch and without a moment of hesitation he thrust his jaw around the flimsy neck, biting harshly and snapping the small bones, watching as the body stilled beneath his grip. Leopardheart sat back to look at his prey, the temptation to eat the rodent before him was strong but he needed to feed the clan first. Even though he wasn't on a patrol, he couldn't eat first while elders and kits struggled back at the camp. Shaking his head, he dug a shallow hole in the earth and pushed the rabbit into it easily before covering it again with the loose earth.
words || 1035 tagged || anyone! ooc || thought i'd get more WC threads going.
|
|