Through the treetops Stoatfur could catch brief flashes of the thin moonlight. Given the time of the moon, it was little more than an ailing sliver, slowly diminishing until it would soon be no more. This, coupled with the coverage of dying leaves, meant little filtered to the forest floor. Something was both comforting and overwhelming about the darkness that clung to his pelt like rain saturated air. It did not seem like it would rain, or even snow for that matter. He had yet to experience the snow but if it was as cold as some mentioned, surely that would be something he would despise alongside the nipping chill.
Sunset made it worse. There were no warm rays to bask in, the night seemed to strip the world of what little heat managed to creep into the forest. Stoatfur would have been tucked nicely into his nest if it weren't for the way his mind tossed and turn. The churning sensation was one that had plagued him relentlessly since kithood. Sometimes it would curl up, coiled tightly like a snake hidden in a safe crevice. But it never stayed back for long, striking at the most inopportune moments. Recently, with the drastic life changes, that snake had twisted into a den of adders. It did not lunge or sink its fang but rather knotted into itself, curling, twisting, dancing...
He hated the feeling.
It had been what pried him from the mossy nest and the heat that radiated from the pelts of his denmates. Underneath the shelter of the warrior's den, it was easy to block out the whistling winds that sought to strip him of what little warmth his short coat could maintain. But the deputy needed to get away, to clear his head. The role had certain perks, like allowing himself to easily be excused from camp with little more than a brief nod to the guards. They might have questioned it silently, but neither cat made any motion to stop him. And that was just the start of his journey to Snakerocks.
This place had become somewhat of a sanctuary for him. Although tiny pinpricks from the sharpening teeth of snakes were tucked neatly underneath his brown and white fur, the thrill and distraction of bounding around and chasing after an opponent seemed to push away the many things that threatened to fall him. Perhaps it would have been healthier to speak to another cat, Minkstar or Thrushnose, but the idea caused his throat to close and his pawsteps to quicken. The clan's leader had hinted to his inability of his a couple moons before, digging at it like an embedded thorn. He'd learned a little. Not enough, it seemed.
Only a couple sunsets ago, he'd come here with Appledapple. The sensation of relishing in the moment with another cat was one he hadn't quickly forgotten. But he hadn't quickly turned around to bring her back, there were things to be done, duties that strapped all of his clan in the effort to keep themselves alive and thriving. This was only going to get worse, get harder, and he could not stop thinking about what they were padding into. Thankfully, the glinting eyes of a snake peered at him just from underneath the edge of a rock. A target to distract him from this, as it always did. Rarely did he kill them, opting instead to stun them and throw them back for another time.
Tonight, well, draining the life away might make him feel better. Besides, the clan could use the prey, they always would now. Stoatfur grunted and darted forward with claws extended, looking to scoop out the scaly beast and throw it from the hiding place.
Roll for Serpantine Movement. Roll successful, attack hits.
Stoatfur used tail yank, dealing 4 damage and using 15 stamina. The snake is stunned for 1 turn.
Stoatfur
HP: 45/50 (disadvantaged stats)
SP: 75/120
Snake
HP: 11/15
SP: 75/75