Distant (Fawnstar)

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Whitemoon continued walking, keep her senses alert for any sign of prey. Suddenly, she stopped, hopefully not startling the unfocused tom behind her. She could scent mouse. She lifted her muzzle to taste the air, trying to locate the exact position of her prey. When she picked up a stronger trace of the scent, she followed the trail, padding quietly. She kept low, gliding silently over the ground. When she rounded a tree, she stopped, seeing the mouse nibbling on some nuts across the open clearing ahead. Keeping downwind of the mouse, she dropped into a hunter's crouch and crept forward, belly low to the ground, careful not to step on any twigs or rustle leaves or do anything else that might startle her prey. When she was within leaping distance, she bunched her muscles, preparing to jump, when her tail brushed over a fallen leaf. Whitemoon cringed at the sound. The mouse sat upright, sniffing the air, before darting off. Whitemoon, anticipating its next move, leapt past its current position. The mouse darted under her paws as she hit the ground and she managed to dig a claw into its fur before delivering the killing blow. Not the prettiest catch, but it would do. She stood up with the mouse between her jaws and turned to Birchflame. "Now, let's see if you can make this trip a success," she mumbled around a mouthful of fur, not disguising the distrust and bitterness she still felt toward him. She didn't care if he heard her or not.

[ⓐⓜⓑⓔⓡ]

Birchflame stopped walking to watch Whitemoon, thoroughly impressed by her being able to locate the mouse so easily. After all, she did have a... disability. He'd expected less, and because of this he felt guilty. Watching her sit up after her impressive, of not messy, catch, he bristled at the mumbled words that he caught from her mouth. Did she really have to be so hostile? She'd seen how sorry he was, how he'd had truth in his eyes when he told her it had been an accident. A mistake. Deciding to show her that he'd heard her just fine, the fiery orange tom opened his jaws and shot her a sideways look when the scent of squirrel washed over his tongue. Glancing around, he noticed the plump, cocoa brown creature poking about in the roots of a nearby tree, and immediately sank to the ground in a hunting crouch.

One paw forward, tail hovers silently, another paw forward, ears laid flat. Birchflame crept forward in a perfect hunting crouch, eyes locked onto his target the whole time as he nearer. Finally, when it looked as if his foreleg could reach out and brush the creature's tail (which was misleading, of course, because he had such long legs), he leaped for it with rippling shoulder muscles and claws gleaming in the sunlight.

Sitting up with the squirrel hanging limply from his jaws, Birchflame flashed Whitemoon a noticeably smug glance.

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Whitemoon watched as Birchflame made an impressive catch, and she noticed the smug look he wore when he turned around. "Fine, you proved your point," she told him, eyes still hostile.

OOC- Sorry for the really lazy post, but I have to go.