1, 2, Step (Buckfur/Nettleheart) Feb 14, 2019 19:36:56 GMT -5
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Feb 14, 2019 19:36:56 GMT -5
22 Moons || Nightclan Warrior
22 Moons || Nightclan Warrior
The sun was finally out, or so it seemed as the past days had been dull and gray with snow falling from the skies at nearly every point of the day. The valley was still covered in a blanket of snow and freezing wind still wiped through the trees and moorlands. Granted, the freezing cold never seemed to bother the large warrior too much.
With his intimidating size lumbering through the quiet pines of Nightclan the snow could only do so much to conceal his heavy pawsteps. Thick and long fur fluffed up to prevent any more chill from reaching his skin, while his paws were starting to feel the bite of the chill, only his nose and eyes were stinging at the moment. He was grateful for the coat of black and brown colors that protected him not only from the intense freeze but also from claws of rivaling cats should he get drawn into a battle. The only problem was, that during the hotter part of the year, he grew hot fairly often.
Pausing, a burst of cold wind snagging at the tips of his feathered pelt, the large tomcat dropped his jaw in hopes that prey would cross his palette. Buckfur had left earlier that day, pale gaze resting on the pitifully low fresh-kill pile and decided to spend the day attempting to find food for his clan. He hadn't seen his darker coated brother since they curled up in the warrior's den last night, but knowing Blackstag he was probably out wooing pretty she-cats with his charm.
Buckfur didn't get the charm gene, but he was a big sweet heart.
Flickering an ear, the massive warrior tilted his head as the faintest scent of squirrel crossed his pink tongue. Finally, Buckfur let the thought slip through his mind before he turned his directions to follow the creature through the snowy forests. No matter how little weight he put on his paws, there was still the slightest sound of crunching underneath his body weight. Even with his moons of training as an apprentice couldn't teach him how to act like he wasn't some massive cat.
Drawing closer, the scent of his selected prey stronger now and after a second those pale green pools of Buckfur's managed to land on the reddish-brown tail of the squirrel, picking around in the open and foolishly away from any trees to keep it safe. It had to be as hungry as Buckfur felt.
Lowering himself, annoyed that his large and dark form stuck out among the blindingly white snow, the large tomcat slowly made his way forwards once he was settled into his hunting crouch. Step by step Buckfur grew closer, attempting to stick to the faint shadows near the bases of the trees around him, pale gaze narrowed into slits. He was close, just a couple more seconds...
A snarl left Buckfur's chest with frustration as his weight caused the snow to shift underneath him, alerting his prey as it scampered away. With a quick burst of speed, the massive tom shot after it, hoping to over-run the foolish rodent before it made it's way to the safety of a tree. Snow was sent everywhere as both the squirrel and the cat chasing caused a flurry of flakes around them.
Realization set in as Buckfur realized he wasn't fast enough to catch up to the fleeing creature, the squirrel quickly making it's way to the base of the tree it was heading for.
I'll break down the walls around you now
597 Words || Fawntastic