Cheap Trick Record [C]

The day was warm– relatively, at least. Biting cold still nipped at the tips of Newtspring's ears, and any cat would have been hard pressed to find an inch of forest that wasn't covered in at least a fine layer of snow. But the sun was shining against a bright and cloudless sky, providing warmth the large tabby couldn't help but to be grateful for, no matter how weak it was and how chilled he still felt.

His somewhat aimless venture through the territory brought him to cresting the slight ridge that lead up to Halfstone, the lightning-split boulders looming overhead, threatening to cast long shadows over him. A smaller set of pawsteps wasn't far behind; he'd been sent on patrol with some mentor and apprentice pair or another, and Elkpaw had been grouped in with them. It wasn't long before the other cats split off, muttering something about not going far, leaving Newtspring to steer the trim molly around.

"'S not a bad place to hunt," he started abruptly as the pale cat made her approach. "Prob'ly lots'a things hidin' in that crevice. But, uh, if ya go stickin' yer nose in there, try not t'pull any badgers out with ya." A good-natured laugh rolled out of him, and his tail whisked against his flank, thin feathered fur brushing against the old wounds that lie there. "I don't need more'a these, cute as they make me look. Other than that, yer free to go. You... do know how t'hunt, don't'cha? If not, I'll help ya, but please tell me y'can do that, at least."

The frigid morning, free of snow and laden with the pressing weight of heavy sun-shade, was interspersed with the soft crack, crack, crack of hasty steps across frozen earth; Elkpaw's smudged prints meticulously lining up with those left in the wake of Newtspring's ambling gait, the barren forest gradually creeping by in the shaded reaches of her peripheral vision. It was easier to focus on the little things, something mundane and entirely within her control, than spectate on the reality of violence befalling her with every singular step taken outside of camp. Crickethop. Dandelionflight and Hailfall amidst the predator hunt.

Stumbling to a halt at Newtspring's abrupt ending to his aimless wandering, the ruffled molly's pale gaze fixed promptly upon the older tom with a wide, unblinking stare- fine facial muscles wincing slightly at the low and slow slur of her older counterpart for the afternoon. "I'd stand a better chance at fighting a badger without any aid." Elkpaw eventually mewed in lieu of admitting to the whole 'well Crickethop only got a few words into his first hunting lesson before dying' dire reality in which explains her lackluster hunting skills.

Newtspring had the grace to bark a laugh in response to her, turning away with a roll of his shoulders as the sound echoed through him. "Jus' say ya haven't learned how t'hunt yet," the mottled tabby countered as he padded away. Oh, wait... Crickethop's dead, isn't he? Newtspring winced at the little fumble, and hoped silently that Elkpaw would take it in stride. "'S fine. I like teachin' cats how t'hunt."

A deep inhale pulled in the faint scents of life, and a pricked ear brought the soft sound of movement and wing-beats. One of few birds left for the season, and when Newtspring tipped his head up, he saw the little thing perched on a low, swaying bough in one of the trees ringing the boulder. "Bet'cha I can catch that from the ground," he purred a small challenge to himself as he glanced towards Elkpaw. Amber eyes suddenly lit with the thrill of a chance to show off, the large tom dropped low, well-built legs folding under him with impressive ease. "Huntin' ain't so bad, when ya get the hang'a this crouch." His voice was soft, and he kept an ear turned towards the bird as he spoke. "Stay nice 'n' balanced, an' keep yer paws quiet when ya walk. 'S a li'l unsteady the first couple'a times, but you'll get it. After that 's just... slow 'n' easy, till ya catch somethin'." His whiskers twitched, and he crouched there for a moment to let the apprentice observe before he crept away, pulling himself across the forest's floor carefully.

Ginger steps led him to the branch, and Newtspring circled under it, neck craned to observe the songbird. Its head tipped this way and that; it hopped back and forth across the branch, indecisive. A few times, it opened its wings, and the tabby almost leapt on instinct at the thought it would fly away; then the bird would settle, and Newtspring would breathe a sigh of relief. In the bird's next second of stillness, the warrior kicked hard against the ground, claws scrabbling against the branch as he fought to catch it with a spare flailing paw. He hadn't been the only predator that day, though, and in an unfortunate turn, as his claws met the chickadee's, the heavier talons of a hawk caught against his foreleg.

With a yelp, Newtspring lost his grip, hitting the earth with a solid thud. "Thorns!" He spat, tail lashing. In turn, the hawk screeched back at him, and dove in again to rake weighty claws along the length of his forehead, drawing hot blood in their wake.

Newtspring attempted to catch a bird. Catch was unsucccessful. -7SP.
... and summoned a hawk! Hawk used Swoop, dealing 9 damage and costing -15 SP.

Newtspring
51/60 (-9) HP | 133/140 (-7) SP

Hawk
40/40 HP | 110/125 (-15) SP

Elkpaw
20/20 HP | 60/60 SP

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 10