rabbit hole[Solo]

Palekit had been trapped here for way too long. He lost count how many times the sun had rose and set. Every day was pratically the same: tried limbs, hiding from the rats and dogs that roamed the streets, and only coming out of his hole to dig around the piles of Twoleg trash in the empty sleek trees littered around. This morning, as the sun rose and lit up the gloomy corner with a dull yellow light, the ginger tabby emerged from his OWO den once more to creep through the streets. His stomach rumbled, a constant protest of emptiness. Whatever he fed himself was soon thrown out violently in a pile of sickly goo. Palekit whimpered, curling up in a tight ball to try and ease the pain. The warmth and comfort of his mother had never seemed further away. He had almost forgotten how it was like to have a full stomach; it was just out of his reach, getting further and further away the harder he searched for it, hiding just out of sight.

Suddenly, the tempting scent of prey wafted up to him. Palekit remained where he was, unsure if it was actually prey-scent or just a figment of his imagination, conjured up by his mind in an attempt to ease his hunger. But there it was, strong and fresh, giving him flashbacks of the camp's fresh-kill pile. What was it the warriors had called it? Sparrow? The tabby scrambled to his paws, and found to his delight not one, not two, but a whole cluster of small birds just a few tail-lengths away. They were scrawny, but at this point anything to fill his stomach would be appreciated. The tabby hesitated, then darted forward. The sparrows fluttered away in a flurry of feathers and wings. But his claws dug into one of the sparrow's wings, and the tabby dragged it down.

The small bird fluttered helplessly under his claws. Palekit almost couldn't believe that he had actually caught his first catch. His parents were so going to hear about this when he got home! The thought of his home, what once gave him a source of hope and longing, was now nothing more than a statement. A goal. Something to do. It was as default as sleeping a night, and yet... he could ignore it, just for a day or two. Palekit quickly dug his teeth into the still struggling bird, too hungry to bother silencing its cries. He tore off the feathers, what once would have been a toy for him now just an obstacle in his way. At long last, sweet, sweet flesh. The tom nearly cried as he gulped the twitching bird down, ignoring how his muzzle was stained with blood.

Half-way through, his stomach lurched violently, and Palekit turned away as whatever he had just swallow came back out. A pile of blood and half-chewed bits of meat laid at his paws, leaving him weaker than ever. His body shook as it heaved, trying to get whatever he just eaten out. The tom pressed his body against the rough ground, whimpering as the spasms racked his body. At last, once everything was out, he got shakily to his paws and stumbled away from the mess of the sparrow.

Palekit padded on for a little while longer. Despite his violent puking, his paws felt lighter and stronger than ever. He could catch his own food now... maybe everything would be okay. He could still be the best warrior in the forest! This time, as the scent of mouse reached his senses, Palekit was ready. Without a second to hesitate, the tabby rushed forward, his claws slamming onto the ground in front of him with as much force as the tom could muster. His claws landed on hard ground, causing him to yelp with pain as one of his claws snapped off. The mouse, having been missed by a few pawsteps, quickly darted away, leaving the ginger tabby to lick painfully at his bloody paw. If he was still at camp, Batsong would be wrapping a bundle of chewed-up herbs around his paws now, while his mother gave him a gentle lick behind the ear and telling him how brave he was to try. The warriors would be telling him that his willingness to get hurt just to find prey for the Clan was admirable... but that wasn't how it felt. He felt like a disappointment.

Palekit washed his paw until the bleeding had somewhat stopped. As soon as he was done, his stomach rumbled once more. With a sigh, the tabby continued limping away in search of more prey.

At long last, once his paw was hurting so much he didn't think he could take another step, he came across the fresh scent of another mouse. This time, Palekit was determined not to let it get away. He lowered himself into the same crouch he had seen other apprentices practice dozens of times before, careful to keep his belly and tail off the ground. He crept forward as slowly as he could, keeping his paws light so that the mouse barely noticed him until he was just a few tail-lengths away. He was so focused on the mouse, he failed to notice the predator until it had lunged towards him with a growl. The mouse scattered, and at the same time Palekit rolled to the side, just in time to avoid the fangs of a sleek-furred creature.

The weasel turned its beady black eyes on the tom-kit, sizing up its prey with hungry eyes. Palekit wasn't the only one that was desperate to find food in these parts. Palekit swallowed nervously and took a few steps back. With a start, he recalled all the times he had play-fought with the other kits in the nursery. It couldn't be so different now, right? With a hiss, the ginger tabby lunged forward, his claws slicing cleanly through the weasel's ear. In response, the weasel snarled and lunged forward to sink its teeth into the kit's shoulder.

Palekit used Jumping Strike, dealing 6(+3)dmg and -7SP
Weasel used Gripping Bite, dealing 7dmg and -15SP

Weasel
11/20 HP(-9)
120/135 SP(-15)

Palekit
8/15 HP(-7)
14/30 SP(-7)

Palekit hissed as teeth sank into his shoulder. If it wasn't for his already numb muscles, he would have collapsed from the pain of it all. Twisting around violently, Palekit sank his teeth into the weasel's neck, yanking the creature violently in an attempt to free himself. The weasel chocked, releasing the tom as it stumbled away. With a thump, it collapsed on the ground, its head rolling in an awkward angle. Palekit's eyes widened as he realized what he had done. Had he really... just killed something? The blood on his fur suddenly seemed so much colder, as if it was ice on his coat and not liquid. With a shuddering breath, Palekit turned away and ran away.

Palekit used Killing Bite, dealing 11dmg and -10SP
Weasel is dead

Palekit
8/15 HP
4/30 SP(-10)

Weasel
0/20 HP(-11)
120/135 SP

OOC: What is my luck

As he stumbled away from yet another corpse that day, Palekit tried his best to regulate his breathing. No matter what he did, his heart seemed to be running across the entire forest. His shoulder was begining to ache, and he knew that before long he would feel the full force of the weasel's bite. The thought crossed that he should probably catch something, just in case his shoulder wouldn't let him for the nest few days. Gathering whatever energy he had left, Palekit scented the air and began tracking a mouse. The scent of yet another weasel crashed in around him, and with a groan Palekit turned around to face the beast. His legs wobbled, and his vision was beginning to swim. The tom stumbled back, giving the weasel a glare, then lunged forward. His shoulder gave out, and the tom collapsed onto the ground. He fought to get back to his paws, but his vision was already drifting out, and before he knew it he had fainted.