Post by ~*Weaselshadow*~ on Feb 12, 2007 16:51:42 GMT -5
Weaselshadow dipped her paw into the river. Her ears pricked forward to catch any sudden movements of prey in the reeds. The old, dry cat-tails, swayed in the wind, shaking cold red-winged blackbirds off the brown, tan crumpled limbs. The river bubbled and cascaded over the stepping stones, which were covered with slippery, frosty ice, making it dangerous to cross.
Weaselshadow carefully licked the freezing water of her delicate paw, watching not to lick to hard to ruffle the fur and aware any scarce prey that lived in the frosty climate. She flicked the end of her tail in amusement, as a small muskrat creeped out of the tawny, weathered reeds. It's whiskers were held up high, tingling and twitching, sensing the air for danger, or a small dried water plant or seed to nibble on. The muskrat's dusty brown hide matched the seasoned plants exactly in the cold weather. Weaselshadow would surely have not noticed the rodent if she hadn't had such large ears.
Wiggling her tail she slowly edged toward the small creature that scuttled, unknowingly, of it's fate. Weaselshadow felt almost pity for the muskrat, but it was either the rat or the clan.
She chose the clan.
Leaping forward on dainty, slender paws, she landed squarely upon it's back, killing it instantly. She gave a quick smile. At least it died quickly and peacefully. Maybe not so peacefully, but for a good cause. Bending down to pick up the limp muskrat, she mumbled a quick pray of gratitude toward the rodent, for giving it's life so she could feed her clan. It hung loosely in her jaws, the jabs of sharp, white fangs matting it's fur with deep red.
Weaselshadow sat for a second, hunched over to gaze across the sparkling water, which reflected the deep purple, pink, orange and lemon yellow of the dieing sun. she watched the water ripple with the movements of the wind, dappling the river with small ringlets, caused by chunks of snow blown off trees, and being carried down to the river, being thrown down into the blue.
Weaselshadow carefully licked the freezing water of her delicate paw, watching not to lick to hard to ruffle the fur and aware any scarce prey that lived in the frosty climate. She flicked the end of her tail in amusement, as a small muskrat creeped out of the tawny, weathered reeds. It's whiskers were held up high, tingling and twitching, sensing the air for danger, or a small dried water plant or seed to nibble on. The muskrat's dusty brown hide matched the seasoned plants exactly in the cold weather. Weaselshadow would surely have not noticed the rodent if she hadn't had such large ears.
Wiggling her tail she slowly edged toward the small creature that scuttled, unknowingly, of it's fate. Weaselshadow felt almost pity for the muskrat, but it was either the rat or the clan.
She chose the clan.
Leaping forward on dainty, slender paws, she landed squarely upon it's back, killing it instantly. She gave a quick smile. At least it died quickly and peacefully. Maybe not so peacefully, but for a good cause. Bending down to pick up the limp muskrat, she mumbled a quick pray of gratitude toward the rodent, for giving it's life so she could feed her clan. It hung loosely in her jaws, the jabs of sharp, white fangs matting it's fur with deep red.
Weaselshadow sat for a second, hunched over to gaze across the sparkling water, which reflected the deep purple, pink, orange and lemon yellow of the dieing sun. she watched the water ripple with the movements of the wind, dappling the river with small ringlets, caused by chunks of snow blown off trees, and being carried down to the river, being thrown down into the blue.