Goodbye, cruel world, hello space

ooc: for Nerian.

It was late afternoon and Pump, who had been patrolling the borders with the rest of her "crew", was taking a walk in the northern parts of the territories. She had found there quite good spots for catching mice - who would have known that the area of the rockslide had provided these tiny rodents plenty of small hollows and dens to live in - and returned there at least once or twice a week. As long as it was possible, she preferred smaller prey that required less effort to gain to a larger, but more nutritious one. The upcoming hunt was still a fresh idea in her mind and she had decided to carry it out as soon as her injured foot would be healed.

When Pump arrived at the hill of rocks, she easily found a good place to start her evening hunt. She climbed up swiftly the easy slope, then stopped and listened for mice. A victorious smile appeared in her lips, when she heard the unmistakable squeaking and the next moment she following a scent, her tail wagging excitedly.