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Bluestar’s ears pricked at the sound of something scuttling in the leaf litter, little paws meeting soft earth. She dropped into a hunting crouch, following the sound until she could see a flicker of soft, brown fur from the corner of her eye. Her tail flicked silently over the orange mulch below her, paws making no noise as they stalked forward. However, just as she was about to leap, a flash of mottled grey fur darts past her, the sound of fragile bones crunching filling the air.
“Didn’t see you there, Bluestar.” The tom mutters, tail twitching as he turns away without another word. Typical of Ashfur. Bluestar thinks to herself, turning around to stalk back into the denser forest. Her paws make little noise as she walks over piles of dried leaves and damp mulch, stopping under the low branches of a gnarled, old oak tree. The roots are rough against her pads as her haunches meet the ground, and her ears swivel sideways to pick up on the faint noises of forest ambience.
A faint scuttling sound- paws meeting wet soil- vibrates out from her right side. She slowly turns, dropping into a low crouch, and stalking forward. A flash of reddish fur scuttles past Bluestar, and she parts her maws, tracking the squirrel until it stops just below a beech tree, ruffling through fallen auburn leaves for food. She focuses, taking a step forward.
One.
Two.
Three. . .
Pounce!
She leaps up in a blur of short grey fur, paws coming down hard against the squirrels back. She leans down, nipping its spine before it can even register. Thank you ancestors for this prey. Bluestar wraps her maws around the carcass and lifts it. She turns around, blue tail swishing against dirt as she pads back to the Thunderclan camp.
Bluestar pushes through the gorse tunnel, blunt thorns scraping through her fur, and she emerges out into the dusty hollow of camp. She heads to the center, nodding towards Whitestorm as she passes him and dropping the squirrel in the freshkill pile, trading it out for small, plump vole. With the prey dangling from her mouth, she turns around, gaze flicking around the camp before narrowing on a certain grey pelt. She turns back towards the freshkill pile briefly, grabbing a mouse from the top, and heading towards Yellowfang. Bluestars sits down next to yellowfang, tucking her paws under her body and dropping the mouse at the older cat's paws. She affectionately nuzzles Yellowfang’s flank before taking a bite of her own vole, the mildly sweet, irony flavour spread across her tongue. Her tail whisks happily across the ground once, as she continues eating her own prey.
Once done, she buries the bones on the edges of camp, going back to sit next to Yellowfang. “So,” She purrs, settling down next to the grey-pelted cat. Did you get to tell stories to the apprentices today? I'm sure they would have loved your story about the frog.”
Yellowfang nods, her amber eyes glancing down at Bluestar. “I do suppose they would, but I just told them stories about the three Ancient Clans. They’re always begging to learn more about Tigerclan, but I can only tell them so much!” Yellowfang chuckles, a warm, hearty sound that draws a burst of quiet lighter from Bluestar.
“Yes, they always are, especially Eaglekit. He keeps on asking me about Lionclan, and I don't know how to tell him I'm not that old!” Yellowfang snorts, and they continue their quiet chatter about their days and the liveliness of the kits, quietly observing as star-pelted cats come and go. The two she-cats were known for their camaraderie, and being able to liven up the likes of even the grumpiest elders in camp.
Soon enough, Bluestar leaves for a moment, padding out the dirtplace tunnel. From out here, she can hear a faint burst of activity from inside the camp, but figures that it was merely one of the younger cats causing chaos in the medicine den, or something along those lines. Once she’s done with her business, she heads back in, finding that there were cats scrambling about, checking around corners and under nests. She glances around, about to go and find Yellowfang to ask her what happened, when a wail tears across the camp.
“SOMETHING TOOK YELLOWFANG!”