Go The Distance [closed]

Heavy snowfall had occurred just past the frigid hours of moonhigh, the latest round of unwanted snow continuing well into the early morning hours. This time of the season was always the worst, the continuous snowfalls constantly piling up and up- never giving its predecessor the chance to melt. It had left a staggering majority of the Clan sitting by idly, unable to do much until the brisk late morning sun had melted away at least some of the new ice and snow- the exposed moorland was often made infinitely more treacherous by the elements, and they could hardly risk losing a precious Warrior to a rabbit-warren that had been hidden by the snow and ice.

Briefly halting to watch as the final patrol of the morning began its uphill battle against the looming snowdrifts, Brindleface could feel the menacing claws of the unrelenting chill dredge its way down beneath her ice-specked pelt. Although she had joined the earliest patrol in an attempt to see if they could rouse any prey from their dens, the bitter chill had yet to work its way out of her system; it was almost as though she could feel the cold in her teeth of all places. Giving herself a rigorous shake in hopes of forcing some warmth back into the numbest portions of her body, the Deputy adopted an anxious pace as she attempted to keep her paws from going totally numb as she waited for Thrushpaw to emerge from the limited shelter of the Apprentice's Den.

Thrushpaw struggled out of the apprentice den- the ice had formed itself around the entrancing, and despite her stocky, well-balanced form she just wasn't well-accustomed to the slippery-ness of the ground. Her claws did little to pierce the thick sheets.
Nevertheless, the apprentice made her way out of the camp to her mentor, Brindleface. Her clumsiness was embarrassing, but she did her best to recover and stand tall in order to make her proud. "Morning," she mewed, head high as she could manage. "Ready when you are." She smiled slightly, but shivered in the face of the cold as it truly hit her. She closed her eyes tightly and shook out her fur, trying to distract herself.

Huffing out a watery little sniffle, Brindleface made a poor attempt at swallowing down her body's instinctive reaction to prolonged exposure to the cold. Flattening her ears against her skull in an attempt to combat the unpleasant ache that lingered in the precariously thin skin, the Deputy hardly paid mind to the initial stumble on Thrushpaw's behalf- it wasn't uncommon for even the most experienced Warriors to wipe out on ice, a fact that she had become unfortunately aware of herself after a few misplaced pawsteps. Roughly rasping a numbed forepaw against the smarting flesh of her nose to try and coax at least some warmth back into the practically dead region of her face, she blinked warmly down at the younger she-cat. "It's going to be quite a bit colder out on the moor," Brindleface warned, voice partially muffled by the narrow forepaw pressed against her face, "But the wind keeps most of the snow away, as far as the highlands go. It won't be the most enjoyable first outing, but pleasant weather is a luxury we rarely get to experience." Gesturing for the young she-cat to follow, the Deputy failed to conceal a shudder as she squeezed through the protective gorse barrier; during Leafbare, it was hardly uncommon to end up getting an unpleasant icy shower due to how much residual snow often sat atop the spiny undergrowth.

The gradual slope that concealed WindClan's camp was hardly steep, but heavier snowfalls just made the journey a bit more tedious and difficult- especially with how numb her legs had already became. It was hard enough to push through snowdrifts, but it was even more difficult to do so while attempting to not stumble over a cleft or protruding rock. As Brindleface and Thrushpaw worked their way towards the crest of the ridge, the steady hum of the wind rose to a choppy buffet that whipped and lashed at what little grasses and undergrowth still remained visible above the snowfall. It was colder here as well, without the added protection of less direct exposure and somewhat alive foliage. Although she was hardly inexperienced whenever it came to handling the ruthless weather often provided by the moorland, the initial step up to the top of the ridge blasted the Deputy in the face with a bout of wind so terribly cold that it simply stole all of the air within her lungs.

"I would say it gets better," Brindleface eventually managed to cry out over the wind, her ability to speak finally returning, "But I'm still waiting for that part myself!"

Thrushpaw quickly followed behind, straying a bit at the particularly icy parts. She would find herself farther and farther from her mentor every step the older she-cat took, but they managed to reach the moors, digging her claws into the slightly melted parts of the ground, slush and dirt mixing in a disgusting looking way on her paws. She noted her mentor's few small quips about the weather, and found herself agreeing every time, though her large, thick coat surely helped her out more.

She giggled at Brindleface's words, though she found it hard in the face of the ferocious winds and blasts of cold air. She turned to face her mentor, and attempted to regain control over her breathing. The stocky little apprentice turned her head down so the air could pass through her easier, not allowing the cold to ambush her face. She bit back a desolate noise of pain as a piece of ice found its way into her paw. Haredung. She shifted her position once more, and turned her eyes towards the older cat.

Reflexive tears simmered in the corners of Brindleface's vision, a glistening haze that effectively captured the cold light of the late morning sky. Every attempt to regulate her breathing quickly tapered off into a seething gasp as she inhaled another unwanted lungful of scorching cold air, stinging the precious lining of her airways with such a voracious intent that it brought physical pain to the center of her being. Living out on the moorlands was hardly glamorous, even during the more forgiving seasons. Perhaps she had been too quick to berate the forest-dwellers and Kittypets for doing everything in their respective powers to avoid exposure to the elements. Twisting around to gaze down at Thrushpaw, the Deputy forcibly concealed a winced as her fur was promptly plastered against her sides in a destructive array, watching as the young she-cat attempted to conceal her face from the worst of the winds, "I don't think we'll be able to stay out too long without running the risk of bringing a chill into camp, but we'll at least have the strongest light of day to work on your basic hunting skills. Do you think you can handle being out in the wind for a while?"

Thrushpaw watched her mentor from below her eyelids, hoping the worst of the wind had passed so far. But it was for naught. She decided to simply deal with it, and lifted her head. "I can handle it," she replied. She reflexively crouched into a hunting pose, and flexed her claws. She wiggled her hips slightly, attempting to ease any tension lingering in her back, legs or haunches.

[OOC : Hunting System + Example Hunting Patrol. Essentially for quick nav purposes since we're gonna attempt to get through Thrush's hunting reqs/potentially her battle reqs as well!]

Watching as Thrushpaw made the brave, unenviable decision to simply endure the ferocious presence of the wind, Brindleface couldn't help but rasp out some semblance of laughter, "All the more power to you, I was hoping that we could call it a day." Unusually long canines exposed in a crooked smirk, the Deputy directed her attention skyward and willed away the sniffle that was building in her throat. An inky blot was idly drifting by, several countless leagues high above where the pair of WindClanners stood, a sorely evident mark against the starkly colored late morning sky. If the hawks were out hunting, then there had to be something else out. Gesturing for Thrushpaw to stay in close proximity, the thick-furred she-cat began to forge ahead once more- shouldering through the worst of looming snowdrifts.

The moorland cats continued their slow-going pace for what likely felt like several hours, snaking a winding path up through steep clefts and rolling ridges as they pursued the hawks. After another indeterminate amount of time spent walking, Brindleface carefully pulled herself atop a frigid stone that laid in their path, the thin crusting of snow and ice splintering under her weight. "As you certainly know, the greatest advantage WindClan has in regards to life is our speed: whether it's used for hunting or personal defense, it can make all the difference in our survival. I could sit here all day and try and emphasize the importance of technique in hunting, but it wouldn't be worth more than a rabbit's foot if you don't have endurance." She mewed, paws shifting uncomfortably atop the slippery surface of the ice as she continued to gaze down at the younger she-cat, teeth chattering softly as she spoke. "It's difficult to learn how to really run when there's hardly enough open ground to step a few paces without slipping on some ice, so you'll just have to learn how to be faster and smarter. If the snow slows you down, it'll do the same to your prey."

"Why don't you see if you can scent anything, there might be some birds to flush out of hiding." Brindleface eventually suggested, features partially masked in a steaming cloud of rapidly dissipating breath.

[OOC- I imagine I roll the die then go back and edit my post, since double-posting isn't allowed?]

Thrushpaw smiled as her mentor laughed. She shrugged quickly, wanting to always do her best and go as far as she could. The she-cat sprinted forward, though close to her mentor, yet found herself not much faster than Brindleface's walking pace in the horrible snow. She hardly took heed of the hawks above, more focused on getting throw the compact snow. As they approached the stone, she found her stout limbs aching. Her body truly wasn't meant for this weather.

She nodded along at her the older cat's words. I'm really not much of a runner, though. I hope I can still impress her, she's the toughest cat I've ever met. She only half-listened until she mentioned hunting. Eager to start, the cat sniffed the air, but found that the cold stung her nose far too much to make good use of it. She winced, and turned to the older cat, confused. But she turned back and decided to simply use her eyes. She crouched a bit, and gazed around at the moors. Far off, a tree-length away, she spotted a tiny blackbird hopping around.

Quickly casting a glance at the she-cat beside her, she attempted a silent march towards the bird. Each step felt too loud, but the snow seemed to get thinner here, just a bit, to the point where she could move just a bit more silently. Only a rabbit's hop away now, the apprentice lunged as the bird flew up.

It escaped her paws, and the apprentice found herself flopping clumsily onto the thin layer of snow. She gritted her teeth on impact but lifted herself up, sending an apologetic look toward her mentor.

The member 'cat5' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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'Hunting Dice' : 3

[OOC : yes, whenever using the dice you always go back and edit the previous post! :>]

Downy little flakes of snow clung to the prominent features of Brindleface's features, melting just as quickly as they initially appeared, leaving behind little frigid droplets that clung heavily to the fine fur of her eyelashes. Thrushpaw's choice to pursue the bird was rather unusual, relatively difficult but not impossible; although, she had known plenty of experienced hunters who had found themselves on the losing side against the simple-minded little creature. Exhaling a silent little partially transparent cloud of breath, the Deputy's entire body was wrought with a nervous anticipation as she watched the younger she-cat come within just a few steps of the bird before it somehow managed to flee. "It's alright," She encouraged quietly, mindful that Thrushpaw was still in the midst of her hunt, "Birds are difficult- they sense vibrations better than most other prey, and they have the added advantage of not having to worry about outrunning us. Keep trying, but make sure you don't think too much. If you're entirely focused on how to put down your paws, you're distracted enough to give your prey a chance to escape."

Feathered tail giving a slight twitch to encourage the unsurprisingly apologetic young she-cat to continue, Brindleface could very well empathize with Thrushpaw's first botched attempt. While training with her mentor, she had lost quite a few potential meals.

Thankful that her mentor was so understanding, she sent a little flutter of gratefulness up to Starclan. She didn't wanna disappoint- this was, after all, her purpose, as her parents said- to do the best she could. Focusing on this mistake would do her no good. "Sense vibrations the best, huh? It's too bad I'm awfully heavy," she chuckled, but quickly closed her mouth, the cold air far too invasive. "I'll try again?" She said under her breath, not really a question. This time, she tried to keep her pawsteps lighter, through the crunch, crunch of snow underfoot didn't help her case. Nonetheless, she continued, and opened her mouth a little bit to scent the air for prey.

A shrew found its way across the moor, and the scent was unmistakable. It was one of her favorite prey to eat, and she gleefully made her way toward the source of the delicious smell. Remembering her mentors words, or at least her own version of them, she focused less on the action and more on the feeling- she could, and would do this. The shrew noticed her ascent, and squeaked out a noise of fear, but it ultimately met its fate between her claws, just as it had gotten a few pawsteps away from her. A quick bite to the neck had it down, and she brought it to Brindleface, a look of pure pride blooming in the dreary haze of the moors.

The member 'cat5' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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#1 'Prey Dice' : 1

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#2 'Hunting Dice' : 1

Remaining upright in her poised position, Brindleface's narrow rib-cage slowly inflated and deflated in time with an unheard rhythm of artificial leisure. It was always difficult to curb the instinctive surge of adrenaline that arose during hunting, regardless of whether or not she was merely observing or legitimately participating, but she did her best to quell the worst of the fidgeting. Whiskers trembling as the metallic taste of blood crept across the chilly air, the grey tabby's sharp gaze remained fixed upon Thrushpaw as she pursued and successfully brought down the unfortunate shrew. "Well done," The Deputy praised softly as Thrushpaw hauled over the precious trophy, "A shrew isn't the easiest to catch, even if it was commonly found on the moors." Carefully retrieving the small creature from Thrushpaw and purposely concealing it beneath the cleanest available swath of snow, she redirected her attention back to the young she-cat.

"See if you can bring in one more piece of prey before we return to camp." Brindleface advised, casually shifting her numb toes atop the rock in an attempt to distract her from the tingling undercurrent of blank sensation that weighed down at the lower portion of her legs.

Flush with pride at the simple compliment the deputy gave her, Thrushpaw gleefully accepted the task after her mentor dropped the shrew under the snow. Once more assessing the moors, she drew her body down in a full, quick motion and smelled the air. She was getting a bit tired despite her adrenaline, as this had taken a lot out of energy out of the new apprentice. She kept her eyes fixed upon a certain spot in the snow for a few moments, which really were an eternity, and... that seemed to move- ah, a white rabbit, it's winter coat protecting it well. Smiling a little bit, she pursued her next prey.

Her body moved slowly yet at a consistent pace as she approached it, though it was about a tree's-length away. Her paws crunched the snow, and unfortunately, the rabbit certainly caught on. Raising her legs up in a quick motion, she chased down the rabbit that hopped quickly through the snow. But not quick enough- the fluffy snow made it weaker as its legs strained to keep up, having to pull more force from somewhere it couldn't produce. Thrushpaw came within a hair's length and her paws missed, which stopped her for a moment. Letting out a tiny roar of anger, she ran faster, and the rabbit stopped too, for just a moment a fox's-length away. This was a fatal mistake, and she dove for the kill, easily grabbing its neck and subduing its legs.

With a firm grip on its limp neck and hopped back through the snow to her mentor, digging up the shrew she had caught before and attempting to fit the two in her jaws.

The member 'cat5' has done the following action : Roll Dice

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#1 'Prey Dice' : 3

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#2 'Hunting Dice' : 3

Ears swiveling into an attentive display of interest and slight confusion, Brindleface watched the rather unorthodox proceedings with interest; heart catching in her throat whenever it appeared as though Thrushpaw had nearly lost the rabbit, the tension wreathed around her chest going slack as the young she-cat managed to recover. Although the technique and finesse wasn't exactly evident in this particular attempt, it wasn't like Thrushpaw hadn't succeeded in her eyes. It was difficult to recover mid-hunt after nearly missing all together, and it was good that she had still pursued the rabbit. She had seen plenty of seasoned Warriors give up after encountering a similar obstacle.

Watching as the young she-cat returned and promptly attempted to fit both of her catches into the limited space of her mouth, Brindleface snorted out a laugh and shook her head. "I don't think Swiftstream would be very happy with me if I let you choke on a mouthful of shrew and rabbit." The Deputy assessed dryly, carefully retrieving the shrew from Thrushpaw's clumsy hold. Carefully stepping down from her perch, the she-cat gestured for her apprentice to follow suit. "Whenever we return to camp, take the rabbit to the Nursery- I'm certain that the Queens would be ecstatic to have enough to make sure their kits have full bellies tonight." She instructed, voice muffled by her current mouthful, as the pair of she-cats began to the trek back to camp together.

Thrushpaw let the older she-cat take the shrew from her jaws, nodding as she spoke of her mother. I bet she'd think it a bit funny though. I know I would. She bobbed alongside her mentor, knowing this would be a very pleasant, big surprise for them. She remembered always being ecstatic at the look of a huge rabbit finding its way into the nursery, and hoping to one day catch something as great as that. For once she felt accomplished, truly contented. She was awfully proud to have such a great mentor to coach her, make her a better warrior. They found their way back to the camp, snow no longer seeming to be a problem.