Dance of Fire (For Emberthroat)

[Heathclaw]

Anything could be trained and improved upon. All that a cat needed was motivation, intelligence, and time. This hunting trip was more than a simple food gathering expedition. It was a chance to refine the night hunting skills that he'd picked up from last night's hunting patrol. He crept soundlessly through the undergrowth, his belly low to the ground, and once he was in a likely place, he held his breath, shut his eyes, and dove into a world of scent and sound.

At first, he was only aware of the obvious- the birds singing the post sunhigh chorus, secure in their lofty nests, the fragrance of the late greenleaf blooms. But soon, he began picking up the finer prey hints- the scrabbling and scratching, the rustling of grass, a small snuffle that might have been a sneeze. He pointed his nose towards the sounds, catching the faint scent of mouse. Then it was just a matter of judging distance- one pounce was all he would get.

And one pounce was all he needed. Snapping the mouse's neck with a quick bite was the work of an instant- all that remained was to the bury the prey and continue. "That's three for me so far. Keeping up?" Bramblethorn called back to Emberthroat, his partner on this hunt. It was no coincidence that he'd asked her of all cats, either- she'd been Lizardeye's apprentice, and watching her technique would be informative, to say the least. "We can get a few more before sundown, I bet."

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Going out on hunting trips with Clanmates was a fine way to spend the day, Emberthroat thought. She was no recluse, content to spend her days endlessly in solitude, avoiding the rabble's bickering to keep to herself. Conversation and interaction broke the monotony of Clan life, piqued her interest and kept her abreast of Clan happenings. Other cats were her challenges, he allies, her pleasures and her pawns. Life without them would be a worthless pursuit, for although she did not scorn the draw of physical pleasures, the intrigue and trials that came with dealing with her fellow felines was what truly drew her in.

That Bramblethorn had asked her on this outing was not a surprise to Emberthroat. The tom seemed interested mainly in spending time with the more competent members of the Clan, and despite the fact that she was a moon or two younger than he, the new-made warrior unfailingly considered herself to fit within that ranking. He was an ambitious cat, she thought, certainly dedicated to himself and his work. There was budding talent in him, to be sure. There must be a use she could find for him, she thought, and killed the basking snake she stalked with a ruthless bite to the neck.

That was the third, she thought to herself, after the shrew and the frog that had all but leaped into her paws. That one had been the easiest, she recalled. Frogs had a convenient habit of announcing their location quite handily with their little songs. The snake had been harder; silent and nearly odourless, she had almost overlooked it as she ghosted through the shade of the stream-sheltering trees. But there was that telltale shift of skin, just barely enough to hear as she went past, and so she had caught the creature--a harmless grass snake--dozing in a patch of fading afternoon sunlight.

Dragging the creature over to a damp clump of reeds, Emberthroat stuffed the smooth coils inside and tilted her ears towards the sound of her companion. Bramblethorn's voice drifted from somewhere to her left, away from the warm glow of sun that soaked into her pelt. "Easily," she purred, turning her head so that the sound would carry to the tom. "Don't catch too many, though. It'll take both of us to carry all of my kills back to camp."

[Heathclaw]

Emberthroat's reply made Bramblethorn turn away and hide a face, somewhere halfway between amusement and irritation. Cheeky little thing... Bramblethorn thought to himself. Just a new warrior, and she was already off boasting and bragging. On the other hand, there was no harm to a bit of swagger if it was suitably backed up. "Keep up the good work," Bramblethorn replied tersely, before bounding back off on the prey trail. He allowed himself a quiet purr of contentment- he'd chosen a good partner indeed. Far too many new warriors were worthless hot-headed fools, with more bark then bite. It was only the calm and competent ones that would make it anywhere in life.

It was the work of a few moments to stalk down and snag another catch, he kept his eyes open this time, but the sharpened senses that he'd been training so far stuck with him, and the dozy frog that he was chasing after could have just as well have been brightly lit as the sun with the ease in which it was rousted and caught. Four was enough for him- he topped off his last catch in a sheet of dirt and creeped off to watch Emberthroat, and hopefully catch a glimpse at her technique. Try not to disappoint me, young warrior, he thought as the sun began to dip towards the horizon.