what a time to be alive [C]

Rowansong

The river was thick with poison. Their fish were dead, gills clogged with whatever filth tainted their waters. It was sad, of course: seeing the heart of their Clan fall ill struck grief and dread into Rowansong, and the loss of their main source of prey was a blow the whole Clan felt (especially with the disappearance of most land prey, as well). But beyond the surface reasons... Rowansong was sad for Larkpaw. He had started showing him how to fish and swim in earnest only a moon or two before this all began, but now there was no point in even attempting a lesson on either front. Larkpaw had shown promise, too: he was a quicker learner, and that proved no different in the water. Rowansong had been happy for and proud of him, however difficult it'd been to get him-- both of them --to this point. And with his ceremony sure to be approaching soon... Rowansong regretted his own cowardice.

His eyes drifted sidelong as they picked through the reeds, searching for whatever thin rodents they might be lucky enough to find. The usual rush of the current was slowed to a slur, and the air thick with the stench coming off the water... but Rowansong found himself approaching anyway. Further downstream, he could see the bodies of fish floating up-turned along the surface of the river. He shook his head slowly and began to turn, ready to return to Larkpaw's side and continue their fruitless expedition when a soft sound caught his ears and pulled his attention the opposite direction. Quiet, quiet splashing: looking across the lower grasses, he spotted a small pool, blessedly clear, with a starling washing off its feathers. Tail whisking to signal to Larkpaw what he'd seen, he sank low and drew closer with a quiet prayer.

With no fanfare, he sprang when he was near enough to it. His paws closed around it expertly, neck broken cleanly by the smooth delivery of his weight. There was a flutter, and the bird seized against his claws, but no cry came from it. It had been dead on contact, and it only pulsed now with the last effects of it. Rowansong pulled a paw away to look at it-- smaller than he'd ever seen a bird, feathers thin and stiff --and sighed quietly. He picked it up gingerly by a wing and returned to where he'd left Larkpaw standing, scratching a shallow hole in the ground to leave his catch. "Well... perhaps that is a good sign." He tried, offering an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach his weary eyes. "May your luck be just as well. Surely something lingers for you to catch."

Rowansong attempted to catch a bird... attempt successful! -5 SP.

Larkpaw

Larkpaw grimaced as he trudged alongside Rowansong through their barren territory. He missed the days when they could fish at the river and grab up as many fat, delicious meals as they wanted to. Was their territory so fragile so that the river could truly get dirtied so easily? He did not want to really think of it in that way, but this has definitely proven how hard it was to find food when the river was not at their disposal.

He watched Rowansong snag a bird and he grimaced. He thought back to the time he and Cinderpaw went out hunting. That had been before this curse fell on their territory and he still couldn’t catch a bird then, yet his stupid mentor could catch one in the midst of this barren season? Larkpaw’s coat felt wet with irritation and embarrassment.

Larkpaw scoffed. “I will catch something twice as big as that twiggy thing,” he replied, but for once, he did not actually believe what he boasted. He still crept forward and turned his ears forward to listen carefully for any scuttling mice or perhaps another bird taking a wash.

He did hear some snuffling noises. He didn’t recognize the scent he got a whiff of, but it was hard to identify any smells as of late with how disgusting the air near the river was. He refused to let himself be shown up by Rowansong, and so he hurried forward behind the bushes to spring at whatever poor creature decided to be near him—only to receive a very sudden, very sharp explosion of pain in his face and shoulder. Larkpaw yowled and swiped on instinct, which earned a few more jabs. He squinted through one eye to see long, thin spikes emerging from his paw where he had tried to swipe. He looked up to find a very angry looking porcupine glaring at him, with spines prickling along its back. Larkpaw hissed at it and limped back a couple of paces. He feels dizzy with these spines still sticking out of him.

Larkpaw attempted to catch something and was unsuccessful. -5SP. Rolled a predator! The porcupine used Tail Smack which dealt 15 damage and cost 15 SP. Larkpaw retaliated with Front Paw Strike which dealt 6 damage and cost 7 SP. Quill Armor is in effect, dealing an extra 3 damage to Larkpaw.

Porcupine
54 / 60 HP (-6)
140 / 165 SP (-15)

Larkpaw
2 / 20 HP (-18)
48 / 60 SP (-12)

RiverClan • Apprentice • He/Him • 20 | 60 • #787878

Credits: code inspiration - 1 2 |  image 1 | image 2 | image 3