Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-27669385-20160509011034/@comment-27798784-20160509174828

Cloverclaw had decided to hunt when he heard a rustle in the bushes. He pricked his ears, suddenly alert. He looked around when he spotted a fox emerge from the undergrowth, snarling. It looked thin and hungry. Cloverclaw growled, knowing he had two choices. Run, and risk leading it back to the camp, or fight. He had to fight, he knew. Snarling, he leaped at the fox, but it was stronger than he expected. He growled, leaping at the fox. The fox bit him hard in the shoulder, and he snarled and clawed its face. The fox was now bleeding heavily, but still fighting. He struggled wth all his strength, clawing and biting in a rage, but the fox wasn't giving up. He growled, leaping and managing to bite hard on its neck. He clamped down with his jaws, not letting go, until the fox stopped struggling. He felt himself growing dizzy, suddenly aware of several gashes and injuries, and a bite on his shoulder. He limped towards the camp, willing himself to stay awake, but he knew deep down that his injuries were too drastic. He'd lost a lot of blood, and he had to limp pitifully because of the aching bite on his shoulder. He tripped over a stone, falling and trying to push himself to his paws. He struggled to his feet only to collapse again, his vision growing fuzzy as a tempting blackness loomed before him. He called out weakly, trying to get back to the camp, but as he struggled his vision faded. He called out again, barely more than a whisper, and drew his last breath before he sank into the dizzying blackness.