by QueenOfWyrms » Fri May 15, 2020 7:50 am
PROMPT 2
Username: QueenOfWyrms
Clan: Groveclan
Word count: 508
Prompt:
Honeystar admired the camp from her perch upon the great stone before her den. A few of her clanmates milled about the clearing, kits played in the tall grasses and flowers that grew, and every now and then someone stepped into the chilly brook that ran through the center of the clearing. The other dens were nestled into the tangled brush that grew in the Area, with vines clinging to them and the surrounding trees. Occasionally a seedling would sprout in the clearing and some poor apprentice would be assigned to root it out when they acted out. She watched as the sunhigh patrol entered the camp, her deputy nodding to her that all was well.
Her mind at ease, she leapt down and gathered a hunting party, between the good early Greenleaf weather and the warm day, the mice and birds were sure to be out. It had been a while since the cats had tasted a good, plump thrush or a fat vole. The squirrels might even be down from the high reaches of the trees. Quietly, her patrol set out of the camp and separated into the thick underbrush. It made an excellent deterrent for intruders, tangling and twisted; her warriors however had been trained since kithood to pass through the natural trap of the vines and bracken without snagging or crashing. She stepped lightly and narrowed her eyes as she approached a nice fat quail—obviously male as it had no trailing bird-kits. She was pleased at this, as in Greenleaf they tried not to kill the mother prey, lest they prevent the young from growing up into future prey.
However, just as she pounced upon the quail, it squawked and flew off, and the scent of fox assaulted her nostrils so strongly she didn't know how she hadn’t smelt it before. How had a fox snuck past the sunhigh patrol? Or the dawn patrol before that? Her fur spiked up all along her scruff and spine, and she felt her lips curl back in a silent snarl. A loud half-bark told her the fox had noticed her too. She gave a yowl to alert the others before dashing in the direction of the bark, discovering and slashing it’s snout in the underbrush. It replied in kind, almost catching her eye before rushing forward to nock her down. Several mice scattered out of the roots of a tree as she evaded and it slammed its snout into the trunk. With a loud cry, she leapt onto its back and held on for dear life, feeling it’s skin tear beneath her claws as it tried to dislodge her. Several of the cats in her patrol burst through the brush and aided her attack, in the end they did not kill the fox outright but it was wounded badly. Following the trail and scent of blood two of the cats kept watch over its den until sundown, when the whimpering finally stopped. They dragged the carcass back to camp and the whole clan feasted for the night.