Timidity Tamed (closed solo)

The snow was thick, resisting Harefoot's gentle steps on the ground and falling softly in big crustalized clumps. This was not the wiry warrior's first winter, and if StarClan willed it, it would not be his last. There was still wonder in his sage-green eyes as he traipsed through the territory doing what he did best - hunting. Or preparing to do so, anyway. He wanted to get sufficiently away from the camp and experience the still loneliness of the deep woods. Much had happened in Harefoot's life recently. There was a lot to reflect on, and he considered how far he'd come in the time since his apprenticeship and his kithood as well. There had been many friends gained and lost, and something even greater being nurtured between himself and the loves of his life. The brown tom considered these developments with a hint of bewildered awe at his own dimness. He stepped daintily through the gathered snow, examining his paws as they sank softly through the gathered powder and watched his stuttering breaths as they floated off in a mist. Harefoot decided that he had a lot in common with snow even if he wasn't especially fond of the bitter cold that came with it. Truly, the aged warrior was suddenly aware of his own delicate fragility compared to many of the stronger, bigger warriors back in camp. The same could probably be said of his tender feelings that he let freely wander. Some cats, like that odd Dawngaze and sometimes Mistwalker, either wouldn't or couldn't work up emotional reactions. Harefoot couldn't seem to stop them. An urge to sneeze disrupted his thoughts, brought on by a large flake landing unexpectedly on his pink nose. It was quick but loud, and Harefoot realized he would have scared all the prey halfway to Fourtrees away with an inaudible grumble.

So he trekked further on, feeling the bitter chill seeping from his soft paw pads deep into his bones, unaided by his thin pelt. The cold seasons had always been particularly unpleasant for the short-furred tom, wiry as he was. Usually Beartooth was at his side, though this year, Ferretnose joined in the nightly pile. The thoughts of his two mates grought a soft blush to his cheeks, and his shook his head to clear his thoughts, a quiet [#006633]"Mrrrp!"[/color] escaping as he shook. The snow falling around him as he walked was so silent that he felt like he was walking in a dream.

A small scratching in the distance caught the attention of his large ears. He halted in place, trying to pinpoint the location of the sound. It was prey, he just knew it! Taking a soft step towards the east, from where the wind was carrying an earthy, delicious scent, Harefoot assumed his naturally graceful stalking position and set one paw in front of the other so delicately that he barely even sunk into the powder. His technique had been practiced for many, many moons. Once awkward and unbalanced, the tall tom was like a bird in the air, faster than most in his clan and proud of it. At least he had his speed and hunting prowess to be happy about. He was contributing to his clan, and that was all he ever wanted to do - serve others. So here he was, in the freezing cold, collecting prey for ThunderClan. It gave Harefoot a kind of joy he doubted most cats felt when doing something menial like stalking what seemed to be a mole.

Finally, his careful steps tok him close enough to see the small creature burrowing its way into the snow. It had just barely broken through the ice and started digging at the dirt beneath it, apparently finding something interesting. Its own prey, perhaps? Regardless, the victory would be Harefoot's. It wasn't a squirrel, but the warrior would be delighted to bring this mole back for the a couple of the apprentices. The mole was oblivious to his presence, and he crouched, wiggled his butt, and sprang with the swiftness of a lightning strike. Harefoot crunched the mole against the ground, snapping its spine quickly, and picked it up. He'd bury it somewhere safe and grab another piece or two.

237/240 SP

The member 'Sun' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 2