The first prey

[illumination]

The woods were quiet. Only the calls of a few social birds broke the stillness that possessed the trees. It was cooler in the shade of the woods than it had been out on the path, and the change was welcomed by a orange cat with long fur. Although he liked the sun for sleeping, the coolness would help keep him alert.

Two cats had entered the woods just a minute ago. One of them was an older cat with long, gold hair and a white chest and chin. He was being led by a younger black cat with shorter hair. They both had amber eyes. For one of them it was the first time trying to hunt, for the other it was a practiced maneuver. For the older of the two, Storm, this was a new experience, not only was it still his first day as a stray cat, but he had never had to kill anything before, not even a mouse, in the house he had lived in. he was a little worried though, that he would mess up, annd the both of them would go without food.

Storm was trying to copy was his black companion was doing, and therefore he was sniffing the air in search of a scent, but he had never smelled any small animals that he could eat before, and was oblivious to the way they smelled, so even if he had scented something edible, he would not have known. After a little bit of time of unfruitful hunting, Storm looked at his companions and asked Have you found anything yet?

[osprey]

The noise of the vocal, happy little birds only had a negative effect on one cat who was trekking through the forest. Of course, some cats loved to hear the simple melodies that rang through the vast woods. But, for every positive attitude there had to be an opposite. It was like, the balance of life or some other strange thing like that. There is a riddle, that some cats know. One is painful in feelings, the other is painful in everyday matter. The answer, of course was heartache and headache. The bony black cat would admit that he was suffering from both as he progressed through the forest. It was dotted in picturesque clumps of trees and the dirt under his tough pads was soft, and slightly wet. There must have been a shower whilst he had been sleeping. Picking his way almost expertly through the undergrowth, Osprey Coldenwing dismissed any complaints that hung in his mouth. No, he didn't want to seem weak. Not now, not ever.

The forest was much cooler than the old road, and the charcoal welcomed the chilly temperature with an open heart. Obviously, autumn would be closing in soon. At least it wasn't going to boil him. A long scar swept visibly up Osprey's left foreleg, and he winced as his amber eyes glanced down as he walked. Swiftly, he pulled up his head and fixed his mind firmly on the task ahead. That scar held a memory he really didn't want to revisit. The tom felt quite immature leading this older cat, it felt like he was a kitten, small and useless, leading a wise and powerful cat in the prime of his life. No. He ws just as useful as this orange tom. He wouldn't give up on this new world as a stray. Not now, at least. His ears swivelled around, and actively concentrated on picking out the sounds of potential prey. There wasn't much, so he opened his jaw slightly to welcome in even more colourful scents. He was hoping that he might find a mouse, or a shrew, or even a squirrel like last time.

Do you really thing Osprey would have such luck? Sighing, he twisted and turned through the woods, wondering how Storm was getting on behind him. To be honest, he didn't really care. He was here to hunt, and it didn't really matter to him whether his companion had the same intentions. A rustle distracted his attention. Rapidly, his black head turned around, but it was only Storm. He listened as his companion began to speak. "No, but let's keep looking," his voice was a low rumble, he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. Stealthily, he made his way through the woods. His body was still aching from the troubles he had recently been through, but at least he was finally doing something with his life. Osprey suddenly stopped dead. The fresh aroma of mouse caught his scent glands, and he greedily poked his head around the corner. Communicating with Storm with a flick of his tail, he mentioned for him to come closer to Osprey.

An average-sized mouse scuttled through a small clearing, twitching her whiskers and searching for something to eat most likely. Osprey signalled to Storm using his body language. The black cat stepped back, and let the orange one attempt to stalk the pitiful rodent.

[illumination]

Osprey's response was negative, they had not come across anything for the two cats to hunt yet. Storm was not impatient though, a little lazy might be more accurate. He was more than ready to wait for them to come across something in this quiet, and a little moist forest. He followed Osprey closely, careful not to make any sound, assisted by the moisture in the ground.

Excitement jumped into Storm's emotions when Osprey motioned for him to stand still. He had obviously come across something for them to capture, and Storm was more than ready to help. Osprey's body language implied that he wanted Storm to try and kill the mouse. Storm could ditinguish the smell from the surroundings, and he would recognize it from now on.

Now that Storm was the one to catch the mouse, an extreme determination that was not normally seen in him. He let instinct take over as he crouched low to the ground, ears forward, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. He moved in a slow, roundabout aproach to the mouse to be behind it. He was slow until he was only a few feet away from the mouse that was meticulously searching for something it could consume, it was almost ironic. He lept forward at it, claws out, snatching it under one paw, but then he faltered, he wasn't quite sure what to do with it next, and it cost him. The mouse ran free from his paws, now at a full sprint. He lept on it again, and this time he was ready for the next step, he bit at the mouses head, maybe not the most conventional way, but he was improvising.

When the mouse had been properly subdued he looked back at Osprey to see his reaction. He could taste the mouse from his meathod of killing and was longing to finish it, But it would be polite to share some of it, and he was willing to. Now that the mouse had been killed, Storm calmed back down to his normal, layed back self. He sat down next to his kill.

[osprey]

Inky black shadows were cast over the small clearing. The sun was mainly blotted out by the abundance of towering trees, and other similar plants. The light in the verdant forest was dim, and another black shadow wasn't anything different. This one, however, was roughly in the shape of a cat. Apart from the fact some of his fur stuck out at random angles, Osprey Coldenwing did seem pretty average. He crouched down, with his ears down as he attempted to remain hidden in the undergrowth. There was no reason why he shouldn't try to hide. It was all too possible for the large, semi-fluffy black tom to scare the mouse before Storm even had a chance. So, he made do with camouflaging in the thick dark shadows of the clearing.

A pair of spooky identical amber eyes flicked casually over the landscape, before zooming in on the orange cat not far away. Osprey watched carefully as the tom slipped into the hunters crouch. A cat didn't even need to be taught that, it came naturally like breathing. It was all based on instincts. Cats were designed to survive. Not to starve to death because of a lack of stalking skills when attempting to catch prey. The charcoal shadow tracked the tom as he progressed towards the innocent rodent, and pounced briskly. Osprey almost called out as Storm faltered, but he managed to restrain himself. This newcomer would have to learn sometime. The orange long-haired feline attacked again, and came back with the victim in his jaws. The inky black cat nodded slowly. It wasn't an awful catch. He signalled simply with his body language, Storm was free to eat. He had the ability to catch something himself.

He opened his jaw slightly again, and picked up the scent of a shrew. Perfecting his balance with his injured leg, he crept inaudibly over to the suspected area. His orange eyes picked up the form of a tiny brown creature. This shrew hadn't even reached adulthood, it wouldn't be enough of a meal. But the ground was littered with potential food for rodents, so he waited. Before long, a larger shrew bolted out of the bushes, making some strange rodent-like noises to scare away the smaller animal. In the confusion, Osprey bunched his muscles and landed strangely on the bigger of the two. Pinning his lips together, he dealt a strong blow to its head, and the rodent's shriek was cut off as he made the kill. The cat almost yelled out in agony, he had landed in a bad position, and now the cut on his leg had been opened again and a steady flow of blood was gushing out. Sighing, he picked up his trophy and ambled awkwardly back to Storm. He lay down next to the orange tom, and began to steadily clean his wound once more. Eating would have to wait.

[illumination]

No matter how hard the sun would try to penetrate down onto the ground near these two cats, its efforts would be swept away by the fact that trees were solid objects. One of the two cats standing in this shady area was a large orange and white tom. The other was a scruffy black tom. One, the elder but less experienced of the two was standing next to his first kill, a mouse that had been found by his companion, but executed by him. He was willing to share his food, but Osprey seemed inclined to let him eat it alone. He quickly lay down to eat the morsel.

The taste of mouse exploded into Storms mouth. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was amplified by the fact that he had caught it himself, not been given it by some other cat, or a human either. He took only a small glance when Osprey went off to catch his own food, and continued devouring his. Only a few seconds later he had finished his mouse, a small delicacy in this wild land.

He sat still to watch Osprey make food out of a shrew, and was confused for a moment when he let the smaller one go, but then saw the cats patience rewarded with bigger pray. He watched silently as Osprey made the kill in a much more efficient way than Storm himself had conducted, and winced along with his black companion as he landed painfully. Seeing that the hunt was over, Storm got up to go to Osprey, but stood still when he saw the cat moving back towards him. He took a few quick sniffs at the shrew so he would be able to tell what it was in the future, even though it smelled and sounded a similat pattern to the mouse.

I think I like doing this. Storm said to Osprey, who was cleaning a bleeding wound on his leg, when Storm saw it he was concerned, There was something out there that could do that to cats, and probably worse, not only was he worried about his safety, but others too. The only thing that kept him from springing into action was his lack of motivation, someone would have to tell him to before he would even start taking steps in preventing the beasts progress in injuring other felines. How did that happen? Storm asked when he saw Osprey's wound

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Admin's Note on August 25th: This thread is being locked and archived due to inactivity. We'll say that Osprey and Storm talked for a little bit more maybe and got to know each other a bit as acquaintances.