Roofed in his temporary den, Massacre waited out the worst of today's storm before moseying out into the foggy aftermath of the rainfall. There was a large break in the dark clouds, giving him maybe an hour or two at most to find something to eat before another downpour rattled up. He lifted his black nose to scent the wet air but nothing jumped out at him right away.
As he walked, he trudged over an annulate log, landing loudly in a puddle on the other side but otherwise ignoring his newly dripping legs as he continued. His fur stuck out more oddly than usual, glistening with sparkling drops of dew that clung to his guard hairs.
If there was anything around to hunt, they were effectively frightened away by all his splashing—and Mass watched many rabbits and squirrels skitter back to their drenched hiding places yards before he even arrived. Normally he'd be irritated, but this was proactive hunting. He wasn't actually hungry or presently under the threat of starving; but under the impression that he may be spending a few days trapped in his slanted cave by the rain, he would have appreciated something to snack on in the meantime.
As he walked, he trudged over an annulate log, landing loudly in a puddle on the other side but otherwise ignoring his newly dripping legs as he continued. His fur stuck out more oddly than usual, glistening with sparkling drops of dew that clung to his guard hairs.
If there was anything around to hunt, they were effectively frightened away by all his splashing—and Mass watched many rabbits and squirrels skitter back to their drenched hiding places yards before he even arrived. Normally he'd be irritated, but this was proactive hunting. He wasn't actually hungry or presently under the threat of starving; but under the impression that he may be spending a few days trapped in his slanted cave by the rain, he would have appreciated something to snack on in the meantime.
(This post was last modified: Oct 11, 2013, 04:54 AM by Massacre.)