The Grand Hunt (closed)

Lightfoot had been out earlier in the day, but now that it was cooler and getting darker out he figured it would be a good time to go out and fetch more prey. There was good success earlier, and more food to feed that clan was always good. It was best to take advantage of what newleaf had to offer. The white tom stood by the entrance, signaling to the other cats milling about that he wanted to head out but also wanted some company.

This morning when he'd hunted, it was a successful hunt, but for some reason, he wanted to go out again. Trotting over to Lightfoot he gave a chuckle. "Going out again?" There was a cool breeze in the air and it was the perfect time to hunt. "Mind if I come?" Spotting Smokepelt a ways away, he motioned for his son to come along too.

"I've been restless these past few days, I guess. Kind of worried about a war maybe." He said honestly and smiled at Smokepelt. The younger tom was very quiet, but Lightfoot didn't mind. The problems with RiverClan and SkyClan could eventually get out of hand and he didn't want that. "I like to run to get my mind of things." He tilted his head before starting out the camp entrance and finding a nice rolling hill to scan for prey.

Waiting for Smokepelt to catch up, Icestorm started padding out of camp, walking next to Lightfoot. "Yeah, with everything going on, who knows when a war could start." He couldn't believe the times they were in, but hopefully today would get his mind off things.

Smokepelt padded behind the two warriors, staying quiet. He hated to admit it, but the grey tom was a bit envious of his father and his friendship with Lightfoot. Being so quiet, he never really had any true friends and usually hung around the sidelines.

Looking out at the moors, Lightfoot looked at his company and said, "I think we should split up. Cover more ground and fetch more prey." After that, he flicked his friend with his white tail-tip and set off towards the setting sun, sniffing out prey along the way. The sight of a hare put him entirely focused, and staying downwind, Lightfoot stalked the creature until he was close enough to pounce.

Giving a nod, Icestorm started heading the opposite direction of Lightfoot. Scenting the air, he crouched down, realizing there was a rabbit very close to him. Stalking forward, he was soon able to see the piece of prey. Getting close enough, he pounced, landing squarely on it's back and killing it with a swift bite. Smelling the air again, he stalked forward again and soon, he was trotting back to their little meeting area with two pieces of prey in his mouth.

Walking away from the other toms, Smokepelt scented the air, and stalked forward, spotting a plump field mouse. Not bothering to creep forwards, he darted forward at full speed. Catching the mouse of guard, it did a little jump into the air and ran. Chasing the mouse, Smokepelt let out a hiss of frustration as he caught up to the small creature. Giving one last burst of speed, he pounced on the prey, held its head down, and bit it's neck. Somewhat tired from running, he walked back to Icestorm.

Lightfoot spotted a rather small falcon circling in the sky. It was about to make a kill, and so was Lightfoot. He timed it as best as he could. When the bird in the air plunged downward, making for an even smaller piece of prey, Lightfoot charged through the grasses and met it right as it reached out its talons. His approach scattered the small mouse that the bird was after, but he was successful in his timing and the white tom struck the bird with such a force that he broke the bird's wings on impact. He ended its life quickly and gathered up his prey, still panting heavily by the time he returned to the patrol group. The trio, well-laden with kill, headed back to camp.

Giving a smile to Smokepelt, he watched at Lightfoot came up to them. "Wow! Nice catch!" He mumbled threw a mouth full of prey. "Why don't we take this back to camp? The kits will be amazed at your kill." Icestorm chuckled and followed Lightfoot.

Wow! A hawk? It was kind of nice hunting with such experienced warriors. Although not many things made the dark grey tom happy, hunting with his father and Lightfoot was an exception.