Clumsy Hunting (open)

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Cedarstep stretched his striped hind legs out one by one as he left his nest, it was early, the sun hadn't yet come up. Shaking out his pelt, he trotted carefully through the sleeping warriors and out into the cold morning air. He still wasn't used to his short stumpy tail, which still hurt from being caught in a two-leg fishing trap when he was seven moons old, he glared at the tip angrily. Shaking his head with a look of disgust he trotted out of camp, perhaps he would practice hunting, with his tail gone hunting has become a difficult task.

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poppystripe walked slowly along the beach. the sun wasn't up yet, stars of siverpelt still awake. her poppy like tail trailed behind her. if the sun isn't up why should she be? thought poppystripe grumpily. she was walking towards tadpole pools. she didn't normally hunt, she was terrible at it for a fact. but might as well serve the clan in her horrible mood. a frog lept by, poppystripe pounced, foxdung missed! as she said before her hunting could use a little help. as if answering her prayers along came another frog. this time she caught it. luck never rely on it.