(The Debate)

[Gosh]

Spiderpaw meowed, trying to keep her voice level, "Uhh, are we going to hunt or not?" She got up, wondering if two cats was enough to kill a rat-at this rate it would only be her and the white-furred tom going.

Bronzefoot looked up. "Yeah, I'm coming," he grumbled, getting up. "Are you coming?" he asked the white tom who hadn't spoken but still seemed to be communicating, somehow.

[Ten]

Frozenheart closed his eyes and nodded, expression firm, not sure whether to be insulted or amused to be asked the obvious. He then began to head out once more. Maybe this time everyone could take a hint and get their paws going. Tail low and twitching, he began scouring the population for a victim. What with previous experiences and all, he preferred to take due consideration into what target he chose.

[Gosh]

Spiderpaw was quick to follow the white tom, hoping that at least one of the two brown toms would follow; after all, didn't everybody say that you were safer in numbers, at least when facing rats? She watched the white tom and realized what he was doing; he was looking for prey. She looked around, trying to be inconspicuous while looking for a good rat.

Bronzefoot glanced at the other brown tom before following the white tom and the brown and black tabby she-cat. "By the way," he muttered when he caught up to them, "what are your names? I'm Bronzefoot." If one of them ran away and left them behind, it was always useful to know their names so you could be sure not to hunt with them again.

"Spiderpaw," Spiderpaw answered quietly without turning to look at him.

[Ten]

Frozenheart, not facing Bronzefoot, made no response. His blue eyes were sifting through the rodents. In the far corner he spotted a mother with two young - small, soft, and weak - but he gave no outward indication of this find. Instead, he glanced at Spiderpaw to read her body language and see if she had found any favorable prey.

[Gosh]

Bronzefoot shrugged. If the tom didn't want him to know his name, then he wasn't going to push it. 'I would probably recognize the tom anyway,' he thought, 'but he doesn't seem the type to run away.'

Spiderpaw watched the rats. Her eyes fell on a weak one that seemed to be laying down and not making any effort to move in any way other than breathing, and she was about to point this out, but it occurred to her that that rat was sick, and they could get infected too. 'Perhaps that old one over there,' she thought as she watched an old rat wearily walk around.

[Ten]

Frozenheart followed her gaze. From what he observed, she considered a diseased rat for a moment before turning her sights on a healthy but old one. He began to study it with her, wary of making a choice himself, though he could tell from her demeanor that she wasn't the type to take charge. He assumed that leadership would be left to Bronzefoot. Frozenheart was not pleased with this idea but knew he could boycott any unwise decisions if need be.

The rat did seem feeble in frame and movement. Despite this, the tom made no move to suggest it. He would take note of Bronzefoot's countanance first.

[Gosh]

Bronzefoot turned his attention to the rats. After watching them for a few minutes, he glanced at the other two cats. They both seemed to be looking at an old rat, and he considered it. It was out of the way, and would be relatively safe. With only three cats sharing, its meat would be enough, far more than you get from the average cricket. He looked out for other choices. There was a young rat wandering around, but it was very small and would probably leave them all hungry. Of course, there were many sick rats as well, but you took a very great risk when you ate one of those; it was wiser to leave them alone.

"Do you think that old one should be sufficient?" he asked the others, nodding to the rat all three were watching now.

[Ten]

Frozenheart hesitated. He examined the elderly rat, then the young one Bronzefoot had spotted, which looked to be a yearling and had nary a blemish. As for the old one, he had plenty of scuffs and scrapes, giving him a worse-for-the-wear appearance.

He looked back to Bronzefoot, paused, then shook his head.

[kat]

Stonepelt nodded. "So it's settled? A rat hunt?" His voice echoed across the rocks. "Sahll we?" The tom drew his tail around his body. Rats surried along the ground; it wouldn't be hard to find a target. Catching one, however, would prove difficult.

[squid]

Barkface had been lost in hunting the crickets, missing a few strange glances from the group of cats as he managed to crunch a few along with bits of sand. Spitting them out, he didn't have to make an effort to zone back in on their particularly loud conversation.

So, they were going to do this after all. But did he want to go? The thought of sinking his teeth into rat meat made his stomach growl in longing, but the possibility of a deadly bite made him shake in fear. Right now, he was too hungry and frustrated with the crickets to make a snippy comment to the group, and he merely watched them, eyes suspcious and scrupulous; his careful eyes followed each of their gazes, thinking about each of their choices, and if it would be an easy or hard target.

Geez, he never knew rat hunting was this hard. Why couldn't you just run up to one and kill it?