Skarr
Male ~ Rogue ~ Personality to-be discovered ~ 18 moons
He usually has a blood stained muzzle and paws, with a fluffy mo-hawk. Message me for info on his looks
Interaction? - Open, message me!
[center]As he continued, he took a sharp left into the territory once more, leaving the border behind. His gaze swept across the terrain as he looked for small prey items, to add to his short but reasonable pile of food. He remembered that, before he could climb swiftly up trees, how he had lived in a burrow. That burrow had caved in when a fox had entered to steal his own food stash. It had angered him, but now he had a place in the trees where foxes couldnt get to. And if he found a cat snooping, he most likely would give them a lesson they wouldn't forget. His nose twitched as he caught the scent of mouse, nibbling on an black bug. He crouched, crept forward with each paw quickly, his belly raised barely off the ground and tail pressed to it. (Giving him a unique crouch as he never grew in a clan) His claws unsheathed once, to dig into the ground, before letting his weight transfer to his haunches. The mouse was finishing its meal. He leaped. The mouse squealed as he pinned it to the floor, snapping its neck with his weight.
Another mouse fled from the nearby undergrowth, straight into his paws. He caught it under his paw, watching it struggle with amusement. He grabbed it by its foreleg, and it scabbled at his blood-stained muzzle fur. He grabbed the other and bundled it underneath his chin, making a sprint toward his tree. He always liked to keep some prey alive, until he reached his tree to get the other prey items warm again. As he reached the oak, he climbed it quickly, grabbing onto the claw holds he had engraved in the past two moons. He sat on the branch he slept, and well, lived on. The live mouse was still struggling. Dropping the dead mouse onto the wide branch, he reared and snapped the live mouses spine before placing it on top of his pile. His forepaws clung onto the sides of the hole of his tree, and he dropped, grabbed the second mouse, and placed it with the other. A crow lay limply among a vole, which lay by a young chipmunk.
He scowled as he scented crow-food, turning his head slightly to look at an older sparrow. Sighing, he pushed aside another scrawny vole which would turn bad soon, and pulled out the sparrow. He clenched it in his teeth, gagging at the taste. Whatever, when he got to where he was going it'd be gone. He should have ate this sparrow before that secondary young chipmunk, as that chipmunk was a fresh kill. He grumbled and turned to leap off his branch again.