Post by Dewpaw on Nov 18, 2021 11:26:14 GMT -5
last edited Nov 18, 2021 11:29:08 GMT -5 by Dewpaw
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Post by snail on Nov 18, 2021 15:03:28 GMT -5
The short tom nodded when he was directed to the east. This wasn't his brother, after all, and Dewpaw had asked him to come along; the other tom could decide who went where as far as he was concerned. Granted, Snappaw wasn't exactly the best tracker. Combat-wise, he had proven to be on par with warriors. Hunting and tracking? Much more difficult. His search was turning up fruitless though and he felt annoyance starting to prickle at his pelt. Maybe he'd try--
Badger!
Dewpaw's voice got his attention immediately, and the younger tom looked up and quickly turned towards where he heard him call. He opened his mouth to yowl back, but shut it firmly upon thinking it over. He could use an unexpected approach to his advantage. With that, he sprinted across the field until he stumbled upon...
Mistpaw.
Snappaw had been corpses before. His mother's, still and lifeless without a drop of blood spilt. Fallingstar's, bloodied from the fox yet brought back in the end. Copperheart's, mangled and torn. And now Mistpaw, freshly killed with his blood painting the red flowers of the meadow. Mangled, torn to shreds and having suffered during his final moments. At least Copperheart's death had been fast. But Mistpaw...
The short tom looked over sharply, focusing on the badger that was trying to take out Dewpaw with it. Right. He couldn't let the dead distract him from the living- that thing wasn't going to take another clanmate from them again.
He darted around, flanking while the badger was distracted and lunging in from the side. He leapt, claws digging into the fur and flesh on its back as deeply as he could dig them before leaping off to the other side, hissing and snarling as loud as he could to attract its attention. "Dewpaw, do what I did an' go for its side while I got it's attention. We'll trade off an' keep it distracted," he barked out his plan as he backed up. "Morningpaw, when you see a chance, go from the back an' try to jump an' get its neck! Bite an' don't let go if you get it! If ya don't then back off an' try again when you can!"
Snappaw lunged close enough to goad it into trying to strike him, then pulled back again. He knew he was playing with fire here- one well-placed swipe and he could end up like Mistpaw if those claws snagged his throat- but it was the best plan he could think of.
Badger!
Dewpaw's voice got his attention immediately, and the younger tom looked up and quickly turned towards where he heard him call. He opened his mouth to yowl back, but shut it firmly upon thinking it over. He could use an unexpected approach to his advantage. With that, he sprinted across the field until he stumbled upon...
Mistpaw.
Snappaw had been corpses before. His mother's, still and lifeless without a drop of blood spilt. Fallingstar's, bloodied from the fox yet brought back in the end. Copperheart's, mangled and torn. And now Mistpaw, freshly killed with his blood painting the red flowers of the meadow. Mangled, torn to shreds and having suffered during his final moments. At least Copperheart's death had been fast. But Mistpaw...
The short tom looked over sharply, focusing on the badger that was trying to take out Dewpaw with it. Right. He couldn't let the dead distract him from the living- that thing wasn't going to take another clanmate from them again.
He darted around, flanking while the badger was distracted and lunging in from the side. He leapt, claws digging into the fur and flesh on its back as deeply as he could dig them before leaping off to the other side, hissing and snarling as loud as he could to attract its attention. "Dewpaw, do what I did an' go for its side while I got it's attention. We'll trade off an' keep it distracted," he barked out his plan as he backed up. "Morningpaw, when you see a chance, go from the back an' try to jump an' get its neck! Bite an' don't let go if you get it! If ya don't then back off an' try again when you can!"
Snappaw lunged close enough to goad it into trying to strike him, then pulled back again. He knew he was playing with fire here- one well-placed swipe and he could end up like Mistpaw if those claws snagged his throat- but it was the best plan he could think of.