Quotes About Prey

The best way to increase wolves in America, rabbits in Australia, and snakes in India is to pay a bounty on their scalps. Then every patriot goes to raising them.

Animals have never betrayed me. They are an easy prey, as I have been throughout my career. So we feel the same. I love them.

There is no greater love than the love the wolf feels for the lamb-it-doesn't-eat.

And the violence of the coupling itself, primitive and elemental, reminding us that we're all just dumb animals clinging to our spot on the food chain, eating, sleeping, and fucking as much as possible before something bigger comes along and devours us.

Worse means that naive beliefs can become a positive invitation to abuse, because those who aim to harm have become specialized to prey on people who think precisely such things.

Gray Wing narrowed his eyes, unnerved by the empty slopes. Surely the thaw should have brought the prey from their burrows by now? Had the early snowfall killed this year's young? He shifted his paws anxiously. If it had, leaf-bare would be long and hungry. He saw Gorse Fur freeze, and stiffened. Had the gray tom spotted prey? He followed Gorse Fur's gaze, disappointed as he saw it fall on Moth Flight.

In rock and pool, in air and light on water, through fall of prey and cry of kit, through scrape of claw and beat of blood, we hear you.

Sunlight sliced through the half-bare branches and striped the forest floor like a tiger's pelt. Bluepaw smelled prey—not the dead smell of fresh-kill, but something far more enticing. She smelled mouse, sparrow, squirrel, and shrew, all with a tang of life that made her mouth water.

If it's on WindClan territory it becomes our prey!" Tornear snapped. "Squirrels have always been ThunderClan prey!" Dustpelt stopped pacing and let the fur stand up on his neck. "Is that part of the warrior code?" sneered Tornear. He took a step forward, his eyes glittering.

The young cat stared defiantly into Fireheart's eyes, and Fireheart felt his annoyance turning to anger. "It's a pigeon, not a dove!" he spat. "And a true warrior shows more respect for the prey that feeds his Clan." "Yeah, right!" retorted Cloudpaw. "I didn't see Thornpaw show much respect for that squirrel he dragged back to camp yesterday. He said it was so dopey, a kit could have caught it.

His eyes grew dark, and his mind filled with a chaotic swirl of battles and hunts, the feeling of claws raking across fur and teeth meeting in the flesh of prey.

I bet I catch the first prey today

Newleaf is here now," Squirrelflight pointed out. "There's more prey running around, so the Clans should be less prickly." Hollypaw glanced at Jaypaw. "Some cats are still prickly even with a full belly!

If we eat too much we'll get too fat to hunt, and then where will we be?

Ravenpaw, wolfing down a small finch beside the tree stump. He saw Firepaw approach the pile and flicked his head encouragingly. Firepaw bent his neck, ready to take a small wood mouse in his teeth. "Not for you," Tigerclaw growled, striding up behind him and pawing the mouse away. "You didn't bring back any prey. The elders will eat your share. Take it to them.

neatly tucking into a mouse

They're all short on prey, and it sounds as if things are getting worse. I wish there were something I could do to help.

I do not ask for your answer now." Brokenstar ignored the warrior's challenge. "You must each go away and consider my words. But bear this in mind: Would you prefer to share your prey, or be driven out and left homeless and starving?

Leave the vole," she growled. Sorrelshine stared at her, her eyes glittering with surprise. "Leave it," Leopardfur ordered. Stagleap blinked at his Clanmate. "Leave it," he told her gently. "We can find other prey." "Not on the moor," Leopardfur

In death too, there is always something of the rich cat that lets the mouse run before devouring it.

Remove the predators, and the whole ecosystem begins to crash like a house of cards. As the sharks disappear, the predator-prey balance dramatically shifts, and the health of our oceans declines.

Who gets the bird, the hunter or the dog?

For me, hunting is a natural fact rather than a choice.

There is no greater love than the love the wolf feels for the lamb-it-doesn't-eat.