Post by feeling kinda blue on Jan 26, 2016 0:10:55 GMT
Springtime rains had come to ShadowClan. For the last three days there had been a steady rainfall over the pine forests, turning the marshes to something more similar to a swamp. The pines were fragrant with the rain, the ground soft underfoot and everyone in the clan perpetually in varying states of dampness. The rain was not punishingly heavy, no thunder rumbling on the horizon or lightning streaking the sky but still the clan grumbled. Elders whined about their aching joints, apprentices moaned about sopping nests and the warriors curled their lips at the mud that caked their paws from dawn to dusk. For all the weather cared, the rain continued in its maddeningly steady pace and the grumbling escalated. It grated on Batwing's ears, his whining clanmates.
It was nearly midday and Batwing had been out of camp since dawn when one of the elders accosted him about aching joints and the dreadful rain. Now, hiding out in the waterlogged marshes, Batwing pondered idly if he should tuck some nettle leaves in the elders nests. Give them something to actually complain about. The thought rolled around in his mind as the tiny black tom hunkered down in the muddy weeds. The waterlogged ground dampened his belly and mud sucked at his paws, caking his legs nearly to his belly but Batwing paid it no mind. This weather was ideal for hunting bullfrogs and that was just what he'd been doing, wading out into the impromptu ponds created by the steady rain. A stash of three fat frogs already waited near the marsh's edge as a sign of Batwing's success. One of the bigger ones was nearly larger than Batwing but bore the deep slashes of a capable warrior.
A drop of rain got into Batwing's ear making it twitch and flick. More drops fell steadily from his whiskers and pooled between his shoulder blades, sliding through his fur. It had been days since Batwing had bothered to groom his pelt, since the rain started. He saw no point in the exercise when he was simply going to get dirty again so the tom was caked in mud, his pelt sleek against his small frame. Hunkered down in the overgrown reeds, belly deep in pooled water, paws sunk deep into the mud, Batwing was nearly invisible to the passing observer. His lamp-like amber eyes gave away the tom's hiding place but one patrol had already passed up his little hunting ground today leaving Batwing confident that none of his bothersome clanmates would come to whine about the general sogginess.
Carefully unsticking his feet from where he'd stood for the last hour or so, Batwing began to slowly wade his way through the flooding marsh. He stepped as quietly as he could manage, keeping to the deeper parts of the marsh where the reeds and flora grew taller than even an average sized warrior. With Batwing's small size he was practically invisible. Thoughts whirled through the small black tom's mind as he walked, dropping and slithering through his mind like the rain. Generally speaking quiet didn't suit Batwing. This solitary hunting, though fairly normal, was not preferred but today Batwing used the opportunity to clear out old dusty thoughts and brush up new ones. He still needed to find enough honey to tangle Stormfrost's pelt for days. He'd stash some of the honey in the apprentice den just for the hell of it, maybe throw some burrs into Stormfrost's nest before leaving it for his darling cousin to find.
hissssssss
Black ears twitched as the small warrior froze in his tracks, mid-step.
hisssssss...
For a moment Batwing kept his gaze fixed ahead, unmoving before gradually letting his gaze drift around. There. To his left. A ripple in the water. Tacking the ripples Batwing found himself eye to beady eye with a black water snake. It wove in gentle S-curves through the shallow water, hissing softly all the while. As it drew closer the small warrior tensed, watching its tongue flick and flutter periodically. It seemed to settle at last, close enough that Batwing could not pass it easily. Well, he certainly didn't have time for a visit to Sparrowpelt fir a poisonous snake bite, in part because the medicine cat was annoying. So, Batwing watched the snake, slowing his heart rate which had elevated slightly at the first sight of the snake. When at last he felt it was acceptable, Batwing lunged.
In a whirl of water, a sharp splash and spitting hiss Batwing lunged at the snake, fainting left before darting forward to sink his fangs into the back of the snake's head. The metallic tang of blood flooded Batwing's mouth as the snake's body whipped and whirled, angry spitting hisses and powerful body flexing until at last the snake went limp. Snake held firmly in his jaws, Batwing started walking toward the edge of the marsh, nearly reaching his stash of bullfrogs when a sharp splash in the puddled water had him pausing. Amber eyes flicked about, the scent of a ShadowClan cat cloying in his nose over the scent of snake blood. Spitting out the snake onto the ground, Batwing flexed his claws.
"What do you want? This hunting ground's occupied!" Batwing called, tail twitching at the thought of having someone else tromping around his little patch of hunting ground.
Notes: open to anyone
Word count: 890
Tagged: open
