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Post by Rosa on Feb 6, 2019 20:07:49 GMT
WC: 415
N/A | It seemed that more often these days Storm had found himself straying farther away from camp in search of food for the clan, making trails back and forth across the almost silent fields that he prayed would soon be blossoming with life. For the moment they were dry and barren, a much too visual proof of the season's wrath. For a moment he allowed himself a stab of envy for those who called the lake and shadow of the farm home. He knew from experience they had their struggles but as badly as Burrowclans? Of course, it was not uncommon; their fields, while bountiful with new burrows of rabbits in newleaf, often lacked some of the steady supply such as fish and squirrels that the other clans fed on. While they grew lean and times became hard, it became difficult not to resent some of those who, at least in these months, might be luckier than they were.
Still, he knew his bad habit of lingering on the negative if he wasn't careful and so, mumbling to himself about the foolishness of longing, the reynard just tipped his head up again as he came to the base of one of the many aspens dotting this border.
His fur itched to know he was so close to Lakeclan but the possibility of fresh kill nearby was too much to resist. It wasn't the right time for eggs; those nests had been abandoned long ago as those with the gift of flight sought better homes elsewhere. He'd seen them fly across the sky both in sharp formations and seemingly mindless clumps, tearing this way and that as their frenzies signaled the beginning of greenleaf's death. So the old tod knew better than to hope for an easy catch today from the branches soaring above him. However the bushes below were another story.
Old berries, shriveled and baked in the sun, were strewn around the roots of the trees. But within the bushes themselves some had been sheltered from the snow and wind of the season and as such were a tantalizing treat to any willing to work a little.
With the slim promise of potential fruit, Storm simply paused a moment to survey the bushes, ears perked in the hopes that maybe a wayward bird might've had the same idea he did and was stuck in the thorns at that moment. Even if there wasn't, at least he'd have something to take home.
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Post by Nyxie on Feb 8, 2019 10:27:09 GMT
Blaze of Roaring Fire  Warrior of Burrowclan
Hunting in winter was never easy. It took much time and patience, a lot of tiresome effort and long days out in the snow. Not that Blaze really minded the snow too much, he was used to it. Even only fourteen moons old, cold was no foreign thing to him. He hadn’t had the luxury of nice warm dens with many foxes in his first eight moons. Burrowclan had felt like a whole other world when he’d first come here, and he was glad Aspen and Kestrel now had a warm and safe place to live. That was, if he could find them food. Hearing, in comparison to winter, could be a marvellous thing indeed. As the young reynard froze with ears pricked, paws placed delicately upon the thin crust of the snow, he could hear the vague movement of tiny paws beneath the surface. It wasn’t too active, a slow scuttling rather than a speedy scurrying about in its tunnels. A few cautious steps took Blaze closer, and he froze again, tail held straight just above the surface of the snow as he bunched his muscles. With the mouse located, he leapt. Diving into the snow was never the most fun of activities - newleaf and greenleaf hunting with the ability to just pounce amongst the grass was far better. However, as he darted his muzzle forward in the half collapsed tunnel and felt the prey in his jaws as he caught it, he decided once more that he didn’t really care. Scrabbling out of the snow, Blaze straightened with the mouse in his jaws and shook snow from his head, only to catch sight of another flame-bright pelt standing out against the snow and frosted foliage. Tail whisking against the power, Blaze picked his way along the surface of the snow to bring him to his clanmate’s side. Storm, a reynard much older than him. He couldn’t say he really knew the other fox too well, but he certainly knew to respect the older foxes who’d lived their time, especially ones whom still worked when reasonably they could retire. Pausing to ensure the older male wasn’t hunting, Blaze followed his gaze silently toward the bush. He couldn’t hear anything there. Must be looking for berries. “Any luck?” Was all Blaze asked, unashamedly mumbling around his prey, before placing it lightly at his paws and cocking his head. Tag: Rosa |
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Post by Rosa on Feb 8, 2019 23:16:08 GMT
WC: 418
N/A | Storm had gotten absolutely nowhere with his hope. The brief spark of optimism he'd been betting on had fizzled out, leaving the reynard to show a rare streak of disappointment. Ears flattening against his skull, he gazed bitterly at the bushes in front of him, trying to remind himself that there was a plan in place. Dawn had a plan, a solid one, and Cascade didn't seem too inclined to disagree. He had to have faith in them and their ancestors. They knew what they were-
He sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment, shifting his paws in the snow and trying to get some sort of feeling back into the frozen digits. He didn't know if it would work. It should, if all went according to plan. But there were so many factors involved that could go badly. If too much snow fell overnight, if the nuts froze before the prey could get to them, if some opportunistic predator came along and decided the band of foxes hiding among the trees seemed to be a better meal than the cold-starved rabbits darting across the plains-
He was dwelling again. It seemed his years were catching up to him more than he expected. Not that he had long to do that; the sound of snow crunching behind him and the scent of another reynard had him forcing his ears up and his slumped shoulders to straighten. Maybe he wouldn't fool anyone but he didn't have to broadcast his concerns all over the hills. It wouldn't do any of his clanmates any favors. Instead, he just turned his head from the bushes, ignoring the defeat for the moment as he acknowledged Blaze with a nod. This one had been an outsider, bringing his family with him. It hadn't sat well with Storm; as a rule, he didn't trust outsiders nor had he been given a reason too much in the past. Still, the younger tod had fought for respect and earned his spot in the clan. There was denying that.
Besides, the other had a captured mouse clutched between his jaws, proof of his finesse and skill. At least one of them was having luck. A couple of less empty bellies tonight for Burrowclan. He wouldn't begrudge him that accomplishment.
"Not today. Last night's snowfall drove most prey away." Storm admitted, giving his ragged head a shake to knock off a few flakes that had settled onto his fur. "Good job with that mouse though."
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Post by Nyxie on Feb 9, 2019 23:49:07 GMT
Blaze of Roaring Fire Warrior of Burrowclan
Blaze wasn’t oblivious to the way the older reynard straightened up as he approached. However, he didn’t know the other fox well enough to know why he’d been slumped to begin with, or really to ask, either. Reckless, sure, but invasiveness wasn’t usually Blaze’s style. He could have been disappointed, or worried, or something else could have been on his mind...or maybe his age was just catching up to him. Blaze didn’t know how old Storm was, but he seemed pretty old. Especially in comparison to his own meagre fourteen moons. At Storm’s response, Blaze nodded, tail giving a single irritable flick. He was right. THe scarcity of prey annoyed him, and he couldn’t help but notice the weight Kestrel and Aspen had lost during these cold moons, making him miss that old abandoned barn they’d stayed in once on their travels to find the clans. That had been filled with mice that didn’t even seem to know what a fox was, let alone that they were in any danger beyond the instinct of fleeing from any sudden movement. Sure, he worried for the rest of his clanmates, especially the youngest and oldest. However, his family was what he noticed most. He hadn’t even noticed his own slimness either. “Think I still have snow in my ears, though,” Blaze chuckled, hoping to lighten the somber mood. As though in example, he lowered his head and cocked it to one site, swiping at his ear with a darkened forepaw, before straightening once more. He didn’t shy away from fixing his gaze on the older fox, either. He was old and had been in this clan forever it would seem, and he probably had much more experience. Perhaps differing opinions were a good thing to seek. “What do ya think of Dawn’s plan?’ he asked, uncaring for the nonchalant way he spoke of one of their two leaders. “Ya think it’ll work?”Tag: Rosa |
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Post by Rosa on Feb 10, 2019 3:16:40 GMT
WC: 372
N/A | Watching the younger fox appraisingly, Storm couldn't help a soft chuckle. It seemed that even in this bitter cold some of them were able to hang onto their humor. It wasn't sucked out of their body like warmth had been, still warming their hearts and gazes even as bones grew cold and brittle. It didn't seem to matter then that Storm was approaching retirement age and Blaze barely seemed out of his apprenticeship moons. Maybe the former could still learn a lesson or two from his younger comrades. "Might be a blessing. Won't have to listen to this wind anymore." He remarked dryly in reply, giving the younger reynard a smile.
Still, when the other fixed his gaze on him, Storm blinked and just tilted his head slightly, waiting for the question that seemed to be silently floating between them. Something was on the vibrant red tod's mind; the senior warrior hadn't lived this long without learning how to read some body language. When the inquiry did come though, he found himself nodding. Ah.
"I've seen stranger things happen," He acknowledged, carefully sitting down on the relatively clear spot and wrapping his tail around his paws in an attempt to keep them warm during this conversation. "It won't be without challenges. That's a lot of food we're risking to get slightly better prey, and it may only work a couple of times before they catch on and we have to move to something else. It might not last until leafbare's end."
He flicked an ear, listening for any rustle in the bushes once more before continuing, "Still, I have faith in her. She's led us for a long time, longer than you've with us. She's never steered us wrong. That, and there's not much choice other than this, unless we want to start bartering slices of territory. We're running out of herbs to offer, and a couple of rabbits a day won't sustain the clan for too much longer. All we have left to trade for food might be land." The last was said with a bit of weariness, not wanting to fixate long on the dreadful prospect.
"What do you think?"
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