* L I F T Y O U R E Y E S
[align=center]It was a pale morning, the air was crisp and cool. A brown tabby figure pushed against the lichen that hung over the entrance to the warrior's den, letting in little slivers of dawn's light into the sanctum. Limbs stretching forward, the tom's paws splayed to reveal a set of dangerously sharp ivory claws, each tiny prong scraping against the earth as he drew himself back in.
Padding towards the fresh-kill pile, Deertail's whiskers twitched in bemusement. Nothing but a small water vole and a newt. How disappointing. Figuring it best to leave what was left for the queens in the nursery or the elders, the blind tom started towards the camp entrance. The early cat catches the fish, I suppose. he thought, tailtip twitching.
Finally outside of camp, Deertail pondered where the best place to start his hunt would be. Deciding against the cold river, the argent feline decided on the woodland. It was about the right time of morning for prey to be waking up and scurrying about. Working his way up to an agile gait, the Riverclan warrior soon found himself beside the river. He paused a moment to sniff thoughtfully across the open waters, tail curled tightly around his white paws. Blank, blind eyes scanned over the rippling liquid. He couldn't help but think of his brother and wonder how he was faring in Twolegplace, but he quickly dismissed his nostalgia and forced himself to move on.
Finally reaching his destination, the sun was finally warming the earth. Droplets of dew spun themselves from the leaves they clung to, each a glimmer shimmering as it fell. He wished he could see it all. Instantly a familiar scent hit the roof of the tom's maw: mouse. Ah, classic enemies. Dropping into a hunter's crouch, Deertail ever so slowly placed one paw in front of the other, carefully tracking his prey. Ears pinned to his skull, the tom peered over a rock barely big enough to hide his body, though he was expertly camouflaged brush like fur. And there it was, oh yes, that delicious morsel was no more than a tail length away. It was completely oblivious to his prowess; of course, the tom had spent endless moons training for moments just like these. Silent, wriggling haunches activated themselves instinctively and by the time he sprung, it was too late for the mouse to realize what was happening. Before it had time to react, Deertail was upon it, sinking a deadly set of fangs into its neck until the snap of a tiny spine was felt between his strong jaws. If you took the time to think about it, it wasn't a fair fight. But then again, life isn't fair and that's just the way things are. He was blind after all. Dropping his prey, Deertail allowed a moment of silence to pass while he prayed thanks to Starclan.
Licking his maw clean, a purr of satisfaction escaped Deertail's throat. It was a great morning, his belly was full, and he had an amazing day ahead of him; or so he hoped.