I won't Give Up [on this forever]// Newleaf Hunt.

[quicksilver]

Somehow everything's gonna fall right into place~

If we only had a way to make it all fall faster everyday!

This time we're not giving up...

!We'll make it last forever!

[/blockquote]

~'.'.'Snowsong'.'.'~

The moors, something that every cat that belonged to Fleetclan both hated and loved. Hated because of the openness, the lack of cover for their dens and hunting grounds. Because any cat that wanted to confront them could get to them with no problem; it wasn't a fortress, living amoung the wide open spaces. It was exactly like being out in the open, waiting for other felines, both friend and foe. Loved? For almost the same reasons. The sun was always beating down on their land. Trees never grew in the field that the rabbits, the cats here at Fleetclan's only diet, called home. It was hell in the summertime but. . .

At times like these? Snowsong couldn't have loved it more. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on everything without cover. And here? Atop the sole hill of the grassy plain? It couldn't have felt better than it did at that moment. Even though the sun was gracing the area with it's prescence that was almost forgotten during cloudy winter months, it was chilly. The slight breeze that swept through Snowsong's short colorless fur had a nip to it that reminded the feline of winter.

The conflicting elements mixed rather well in said she-cat's opinion; newleaf here in Fleetclan always contrasting and changing according to the day. Some days seemed almost winterlike, and then the next could have the warm feeling of an early summer day. Today? Well, today seemed like that perfect point somewhere in the middle. It made for the perfect time for Snowsong to hunt; the warrior loved these conditions because they were perfect for a good run.

When a particularly strong breeze swept past, along with a chill, the sweet smell of a young spring rabbit also tickled at Snowsong's nose. The she-cat smiled, blue eyes looking over the moor with a calm focused look that the feline gained when hunting. She took her first breath, deep and slow. When she let it out, she almost expected to see the familiar puffs of white coming from the exhaled breath. It really is newleaf. The white feline whispered to herself, her bob of a tail squirming as she smiled.

And it certainly was. Because below her sat two young rabbits. They were skinny, but small; meaning that they were probably born some time that winter. She should have waited for a different, plumper prey; those two looking like some of the fastest rabbits she had seen since the very start of this season. But this was Snowsong, and the feline wouldn't be outrun by a fuzzy brown rodent. Especially not with the wind on my side.

And with a final powerful breath, Snowsong burst into a run. She was fast, and light on her feet; not to mention she reciebed an extra boost from starting up on the moor's sole hill. She rocketted forward, eyes completely focused on the rabbits that were slowly coming closer. The feline kept her breathing deep and slow, if she was lucky the rodents wouldn't notice her until it was too late.

Two little brown heads snapped toward their pursuer and immediately the rodents were dashing off, swerving to try and escape the hunter's clutches. Usually this wouldn't put a cat off, used to the speed of a rabbit and their ways to gain speed before leaping away. But Snowsong was different. She had to put extra energy into keeping up with the rodents, the normal way of steering for a feline much too. . .small to be effective.

That didn't mean that the she-cat was any less of a hunter. Snowsong had practice, she was a warrior. Watching her hunt, it's obvious that she has a different style of doing things. When the rabbit turned, Snowsong turned with it, her body almost curving along with the animal's direction. It slowed her down a bit, but it was better than taking a nosedive. Something that the warrior regrettably had done more times than once.

As one turned left, the other switched right, and Snowsong was left making a choice between the two. Both were fast, and neither was going down without a fight. The feline suddenly turned left, gaining on her prey. It was just a bit closer; but that would hopefully be all she needed to wrap up this hunt and get back to camp.

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Word count: 729
Muse: Tired, but incredibly awake.
Comments: A bit embarrassed at my paragraph sizes, but I'll live.
Shoot me everytime I say Snowstar please. I don't know why I keep doing that. :[
Post for: Anyone in Fleetclan ^^
Quote: Hallelujah! ~ Paramore

[S C O R P I A]

FAWNSTEP
^{Faith is the basis of all life}

Newleaf- Probably the most rejoiced time of year. I comes slowly, but it is as if the season starts on one day; a day that the clans celebrate an easier time away from the horrors of frost and snow. This Leafbare hadn't been particularly bad, but cats were still skinny, and the herb store small. The last winter had been awful, a time when two innocent lives were taken. The anniversary, or at least near, your siblings' deaths was something cats had to keep off of their minds; especially with such a hard job to do with the cats still living. They had to be fed, you know. But how could you keep such an awful event from distracting you? It was only a year ago, after all, when Dreampaw and Featherpaw were still apprentices.

The sun was directly above, indicating that it was about Sunhigh. It was about the hottest it would get today, but it felt like a Greenleaf morning; the perfect temperature. There was a nice breeze to top it off, one that ran through your fur and cooled you when you came close to being uncomfortable. This was another perk of Newleaf. You could never really be hot or cold until it came closer to Greenleaf. Those with thin fur, who had trouble in the winter will be rejoicing by then. Those with thick fur will complain their way through the summer season. Those with fur in between will laugh; they have never had a problem with this, and never will, after all. How ridiculous the changing of seasons could be...

FleetClan was ready for the Newleaf sun to nurse it back to health. The grass was brown and shriveled, having been crushed by the snow for three moons. The few trees they had were bare from leaves, and you could practically peak into EternalClan territory which is usually hidden by a blanket of green. From above, the grassy plain looked like a large dirt clearing, almost; The Moors would look rather ugly for a while, but in the summer everything would return back to normal. The grass would green, leaves would return to the trees, and more wildlife would thrive; mainly the prey that FleetClanners tend to dine. Newleaf was rainy, sunny, and rainy again. StarClan made it so for Greenleaf to come faster.

Small paws pounded on still partially frozen ground. Amber eyes narrowed against the breeze turned to wind as she ran. Fur whipped back against her face, she ran up the crest of hills, then down them again, keeping her breath the entire time. Not even a string of tiredness, she was ready for the day. Not hunting, yet, but running. How else were you to find prey, after all? Soft thuds came to the ground as the she-cat glided forward on The Moor, the sun to her back and the rest of the territory to her front. Claws were unsheathed; everything was faster with your claws in. The sound of chirping birds and the rustling of grass could be heard, but only if you listened.

Fawnstep flew across the territory, scanning for the slightest morsel of food. She didn't break pace at all, her heart beating quickly and her breath coming out only slightly faster than when she started. The she-cat wanted to laugh, but she didn't dare let the animals know she was coming for them. Fawnstep settled with a simple smile, or a smirk, rather. Today would be a good day, because there would be more food for everyone. The warrior began to slow to a stop, waving her tail thoughtfully as she scented the air. Although FleetClan was based more on sight of prey, it was good to track a bit. You never know what was hiding behind some tall grass, or inside the roots of the few trees there. While looking for prey, amber eyes turned at the sight of movement.

Two streaks of brown fell through Fawnstep's gaze, followed by another streak of white. The scent told her it was Snowsong, a she-cat raised by a respected Elder named Thistledown. Fawnstep, noticing the hares had split up, sprinted after the animal that went right. If both warriors were lucky, there would be two more pieces of fresh kill on the pile tonight. Fawnstep narrowed her amber eyes against the stirred air around her, paws pounding the ground as she pursued the creature. She had always found a liking to hunting, and was skillful in it more than battle or tracking. Fawnstep felt like laughing as she pelted across the grass, sensing that Snowsong wasn't far off. The she-cat was gaining on the rabbit, and quickened her pace, swerving back and forth as the animal tried to get away from her. But Fawnstep's virtues were Speed and Agility for a reason. She wasn't about to let it win.

status; finished
puppet; fawnstep
word count; 821
muse; good
other; nothing[/sup]

[quicksilver]

The rabbit was giving Snowsong quite the hard time. This thing was lithe and faster than the white she-cat gave him credit for toward the beginning. Snowsong's even breaths were starting to quicken with her pace, and as she pushed herself faster, the little bugger would turn and she would have to swerve with it while trying not to loose speed. So far? The she-cat had been doing well. She hadn't slipped up or made a mistake just yet, her footing had been almost perfect and never did she loose focus on the rabbit she was hunting.

Everytime that she felt like slowing down, the wind would whisp a breeze that was just short of chilling her. It was like having your own personal fan when thigns became too heated to keep moving. If she kept this up, she would wear the animal down, and a simple mistake from the animal is all she would need to wrap this up. If she kept the little thing going long enough for it to panic and try something impossible, Snowsong could end this hunt.

The she-cat leapt, claws scraping against the rabbit's tail; but no prize just yet. The slippery little animal managed to get away from Snowsong's clutches, and she was left picking up the pieces of her failed attempt. If I stop, I won't catch him at all! The warrior didn't stop running, pushing herself forward at an angle to make up for lost time and lost ground. That's when she noticed that another cat was hunting with her. Fawnstep was also hutning with her, and from the glance that Snowsong got, she was doing as well as she was; if not better. A race, huh? The competitive she-cat grinned, now having reason other than a grumbling stomach and a fresh kill pile to fill to catch this rabbit. She refused to loose, to Fawnstep, or to the brown mammal that was currently trying to give her the slip.

Snowsong's competitive spirit was somewhat derived from her anger. Though she wasn't at all angry at Fawnstep, or even the rabbit she was hunting down, there was something about firey emotions that just got the best of her. Whether anger or determination, she had that blaze in her spirit that either helped her or got her into a hell's worth of trouble. Right now? Well, it was helping. Small white feet thrusted forward stronger, faster than they had been before. Her blue eyes shone with a fire that before was a simple need to hunt.

The she-cat huffed and pushed forward even more, mere inches away from the rabbit. She was closing in on her prey, and finally, it looked like this hunt was over. Snowsong's mind was starting to loose the rush that kept her going long enough to catch the rabbit from the beginning, and these moments were the ones that needed to be taken with care. If she slowed down or miscalculated, then she would have to find a different rabbit because this one would be long gone. Snowsong grunted, putting the last of her efforts into a final cutting leap; this would determine whether her hunt went to waste.

This time? Snowsong was lucky, as the cat landed toward the neck of the animal's back. It stumbled, and that was all that Snowsong needed to pin it down and land a blow that would break it's neck and kill it immediately. She really was lucky this time around, because the last time she had hunted, she tried the same thing at the end as she tired out...and got a mouthful of snow and her claws got stuck in the frozen dirt of the moors below.

The she-cat smiled, glad that she had efficiently caught her prey. The white feline licked her paws and the bottom of her legs before picking up the small animal. It was still warm, and between her sense of pride for catching her prey, it made her stomach twist; reminding her that she was hungry. I wonder if Fawnstep caught her rabbit? Snowsong blinked, dropping her rabbit for a moment and turning around to search the moor for her fellow Fleetclan warrior.

Words: 699
Muse: Alright. It's awake, but once again I'm up late x3
Comments:
* I thought of making her miss it, but decided I'd save pissy Snowsong for later.
* I didn't feel like making it pretty.

[S C O R P I A]

FAWNSTEP
^{You can run, but you can't hide...}

Birdflight's teachings were coming in handy again, Fawnstep couldn't help but noticing. The rabbit was panicking for sure, swerving, seeing her, and sprinting away again. But it was slowing. No, not by much, but it was slowing. The she-cat smirked and merely quickened her pace, white paws gliding her through the moor like a bird of prey. Fawnstep swerved to the left, following her prey and kicking up clumps of grass and dirt as she did so. The sun beat down on her, making her fur glisten like water. She smiled. The rabbit was tiring; its movements were becoming less sharp. Fawnstep narrowed her eyes at the quick little creature, forcing her paws to move faster as her breath came out harder and more often. You're mine, little guy

The rabbit seemed to notice it was slowing down and gave another burst of speed. It launched forward as if leaping its way to safety was the only way he was to get out of this situation. Fawnstep chuckled inwardly. Although she appreciated the fact that StarClan provided food for the clans, she had to admit they were not the most intelligent of animals. If Fawnstep were a rabbit, she would be heading to the right, towards the trees of another territory. There would be more places to hide and better traction for running. Fawnstep wasn't complaining, though, at least the little thing had speed going for him. Eyes glistening with excitement, the warrior felt the rush of chase as she pursued the animal.

To her left, Snowsong was running after her prey as well. The rabbit was smaller than her's,and Fawnstep silently wished her clanmate good luck with her hunt. The hare she was pursuing began to dash to the left again, with the warrioress hot on its heels. It went right, and Fawnstep followed, beginning to tire herself. She didn't allow the luxury of slowing down, though, not when she was so close. As the she-cat's eyes followed the creature; she noticed something rather strange: The rabbit had turned and dashed in another direction again; sprinting with all its might. As if... there was a destination. Panicking, the warrioress gave one last sprint of energy, gaining on the hare. She was so close. Close enough that if she stretched she would be able to touch it. Fawnstep gave one final leap.

Just as the animal disappeared into a hole.

Skidding to a stop, Fawnstep hissed and scented the den which was most likely the rabbit's home. She waited by the entrance for a few moments before realizing it was hopeless. Angered by her lack of prey, Fawnstep turned on her heel sharply and began to jog at a steady pace in the direction of Snowsong's scent. Hopefully her clanmate had caught her prey; otherwise Fawnstep would have felt incredibly guilty. They had a few new queens this season, after all. Her brisk pace steadily slowed, and eventually she was just walking; something she never did, no matter how tired. Fawnstep's tail lashed with frustration at her lack of luck. The hare had slipped from her clutches at the last second, just before she could reach out and have another meal for the clan.

Over the crest of a hill Snowsong's scent grew stronger, and as the she-cat came into view, there was a limp creature in her jaws.

Thank you StarClan!

status; finished
puppet; fawnstep
word count; 572 ugh
muse; mucho terrible D: Just got back from a trip. I dun like no muse
other; hate this post x.x[/sup]

[quicksilver]

Snowsong met Fawnstep's eyes when she finally did find the warrior. From the looks of things she had missed the rabbit that she was going after; something that Snowsong wasn't happy about, but in some far corner of her mind was whispering small victories. The she-cat's tail would have waved, but her stump seemed to wiggle instead as she picked up her rabbit and went over to Fawnstep. "Fawnstep!" Snowsong called to the other cat, picking up her rabbit and walking over. A breeze hit her square in the face, making her eyes water a bit, but it felt good to cool down after a successful hunt.

"I didn't know you were on today's hunting patrol." She hadn't noticed the cat there in the three or four cats that had been chosen to go out this morning; but she almost positive that Fawnstep wasn't oneof them. Not that it mattered much, cats came to hunt on their own all the time during this time of year. Any help was welcome when rabbits were this lean; hunting wasn't very easy in early newleaf at all. Even so, Snowsong was glad that she was one of them. It was simply perfect for a hunt on the moors. When she was close enough to speak without yowling, she sat her rabbit back down to speak with Fawnstep.

"No luck this time?" She asked, the adrenaline now slowly leaving her system. Now, there was a genuine amount of caring for the other cat and her hunt in her voice; and her blue eyes reflected that rather wel. If it were her, she would have been very upset had she missed her prey, and she had to admit that she was a bit wrong in the way that she probably would have pitched a fit for a while afterwards. She really needed to work on her terrible temper; and for the most part she knew that. It was when she was angry and lost her grip on herself that she didn't.

Words:: 336
Muse:: Terrible... I'm so sorry about horribly the short post >n<
Comments:: I have a terrible headache...
I'm sorry for not posting sooner D: