den of thieves [closed]

passive bonus: +2 to hunting success range

Flywhisker swept into camp behind their patrolmates, forepaws still damp from the river. Today, they’d caught a pair of fish and a frog so small they wondered how they hadn’t accidentally swallowed it during the walk home. On its own, it was an unimpressive haul. Compared to what they’d brought back during the past few seasons, though, it felt downright miraculous. At the least, it proved the Dark Forest invaders didn’t have an iron grip on the forest’s weather. Ducking down, Flywhisker laid what they’d caught on top of the fresh-kill pile and stepped back.

The prey had barely settled into place when a ghostly cat separated from the mass of shadows nearby. There was hardly time to blink. In a seamless motion, he gulped down one fish, showing a disregard for choking that would have been alarming in a living cat, and neatly flipped another into his mouth for safekeeping before disappearing into the crowd once more. The frog remained—not that it helped.

Sheathing their claws took conscious effort. Biting their tongue was harder still. Before they could do something they doubted they’d live to regret, Flywhisker uprooted their paws from the slush and turned their back to the fresh-kill pile, coppery eyes flashing. If the Dark Forest was so insistent RiverClan starve, so be it. They’d nearly worn through their pawpads trying to outhunt leaf-bare itself; they could manage one quick patrol. At the camp’s exit, however, they hesitated. Every hunt they’d gone on before had been a lesson with Turtlefur or an assignment from Perchfall or Dewlight; they’d never gathered one themself.

Well, they thought, it can’t be that hard. “I’m going hunting,” they called, standing on tiptoe as if that might help their voice reach their Clanmates’ ears. “At Sunningrocks. If you wanna come along, you can.” Flywhisker’s thin tail thrashed behind them, an unmistakable sign of the irritation they’d smothered from their tone. They caught it with a paw and began to groom the fur flat, still looking straight ahead.

Things had gotten even more difficult after the dark forest began their rule over the clans. The young tom had tried to hunt and provide for his clan but the measly prey he managed to bring back- by a miracle- wasn't suited for most. He was beginning to grow frustrated, even shooting the spirit cats dirty looks whenever he saw them eat the prey that absolutely belonged to the clan.

At Flywhisker's call for a hunting patrol, the young tom jumped on the chance to once again try his paw at bringing any prey back. "Hey, Flywhisker!" he greeted softly before beginning to stretch his limbs to prepare them for hunting. "Count me in." he stated firmly, a determined look on his face. He stood waiting beside the other cat. Hopefully more clanmates would arrive to lend a paw.

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Robinpatch had been around the camp, cleaning up some of the dens and fetching whatever was needed at any moment. He had wanted to busy himself with work so he didn't walk up to one of the annoying dark forest rats and hit them on the head with a merciless swing of his tail.

He had noticed them hoarding the food that rightfully belonged to Riverclan. He was almost tempted on hitting Jaystar on the head as well. Maybe that would unjumble that twisted head of his. He quickly pushed away that thought. No. That wouldn't solve anything. He had to be more patient and smart about this all.

The calico-furred warrior padded over to the two young cats after hearing Flywhisker's invitation to hunt. "Hey, kids. Sign me up too. We need all the help we can get to feed the clan and I might as well pitch in since I don't have much else to do."

The recent uptick in warmth had been welcomed by the short-furred tom, the river slowly melting enough for a chilly dip within and once again providing the food which his clanmates had depended on. Recent events had left a perpetual unsavoury taste in his mouth, the once putrid scent of Dark Forest cats lingering in every corner only adding to the bitter aftertaste of what had recently transpired, and he honestly lacked knowledge on where he stood and what his role was.

Vixenstar had promised she would train him to be strong enough to provide, and he felt he was, but he had lacked the real ability to show his training off in any real sense- the harsh leaf-bare ensuring that catching anything was nearly impossible, and there hadn't been a border skirmish since before the snow had begun to settle on the ground. Sighing, Aspenblaze watched with half-hearted interest as a hunting patrol came in, dumped prey, and it was immediately eaten by a shadowed warrior. Snorting, he then watched as Flywhisker, wrought with irritation, called out for another hunting patrol.

I guess I better help, was his most forefront thought, although he knew as a Dark Forest trained warrior it was half expected of him to ensure a patrol had a supervisor like himself. And well, better him than the fish-brain who immediately took Flywhisker's prey.

"I'll come." He said rather quietly, moving to stand near the gathered warriors, keeping an appropriate amount of distance from the ever expressive motions of Flywhisker's tail.

Hollyleaf groomed herself, the current events still swirling around her mind as the DF cats were accepted into the clan. She couldn't believe it. Things had happened so fast, she wasn't very sure what to think of them at all. Assisting and helping Owlpaw in his apprenticeship has somewhat gotten her mind off it, though their first hunting wasn't exactly what she'd aimed for. Frowning, the molly stood, ears suddenly perked at Flywhisker's call.

She headed over to the slowly rising group. If she couldn't practice then, then perhaps now. "I suppose I'll come too, then," She spoke, standing aside her clanmates.

The sight of RiverClan flocking to fill the fresh-kill pile took the edges off of Flywhisker’s frustration. They let their tail slip back to the ground. Though it didn’t stop twitching, it wasn’t half as violent. They met each cat who gathered with a dip of their head and a “thanks,” matching faces to names. Blackpanther, Robinpatch, Aspenblaze, Hollyleaf. All strangers, more or less—but all warriors as well, so they had to be capable. “That should be enough…” Angled partway toward the camp’s exit, they stopped in their tracks. Their gaze shifted to Robinpatch and lingered there, quietly expectant, for several heartbeats. Surely he would want to take the reins; he was the most senior warrior present by several seasons at least, maybe even the oldest warrior in the whole Clan. But he did not. With a spark of what on a happier day would’ve been pride, Flywhisker gave a final snap of their tail and turned the rest of the way to lead their Clanmates forward.

Once the patrol slipped out of camp, three shadowy figures fell into a casual trot behind them. Though the prey-thief wasn’t among them, they proved to be annoying in their own way; they started whispering to each other, going silent whenever a RiverClanner drifted too close. The Dark Forest cats kept it up all the way to Sunningrocks. There, they settled far down the riverbank. Flywhisker briefly entertained the idea of shoving them in and watching the current strip away their shadows until nothing was left. It would be five against three, with at least two warriors to each ghost once the first went down…

A nice thought, but fatal if it didn’t work. Flywhisker sighed. Though they’d vowed to die for RiverClan someday, they couldn’t afford to right now. Better to focus on what they could do. “Yell if something happens,” they said, looking at each of their patrolmates in turn. Then they plopped down to survey the frigid water for the thin shapes of fish. A small form upstream caught their eye. It flitted closer, closer, out from the translucent shield of ice— Flywhisker’s paw shot out. They hit something solid, and a moment later, a minnow was flopping on the shore in front of them. Killing it with a quick bite, they made to set it behind them…then dropped it at their side instead. Inconvenient, but it'd probably find its way into a Dark Forest mouth if they took their eyes off of it.

Flywhisker attempted to catch Fish, using 3 stamina. Success!

Flywhisker
30/30 HP
77/80 SP (-3)

The member 'rhindon' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 1