Post by . s p o r e l e t t ♪ on Feb 18, 2010 22:35:51 GMT -6
Spotting movement in the direction of the apprentices' den, Mothpelt spied his apprentice making her way down the cliff. Ah, good, he thought. Wrenpaw was already awake. Making his way towards her, he met her halfway across camp and nodded in response to her question. "We're going over some battle training today," he answered easily. "I just brought back a couple pieces of prey, so feel free to help yourself from the fresh-kill pile before we start if you're hungry. We'll leave for the training hollow as soon as you're done." Casting a glance toward the fresh-kill pile, Mothpelt thought to himself that it was a good thing he had gone hunting after all. There wasn't much of a pile left, and he and his apprentice had done too much hunting lately. If Wrenpaw was going to be any kind of fighter at all, he needed to focus a bit more on her combat training.
Eveningpaw made her way carefully out of the apprentices' den and down the cliff. She had only moved into the cave a few days ago, and it was still a bit strange to be sleeping in the company of the other training apprentices, as opposed to beside her mother. Even stranger was sleeping without her brother Buckkit at her side. She still felt guilty about his death, despite the fact that it had been as much his idea as hers to go exploring. Letting out a short breath, she shook her head to clear it. She would just have to be the best warrior that she could be, then. For Buckkit. One day, when she saw him again in StarClan, (because yes, the young she-cat did believe in it) she didn't want to have to tell him that she hadn't done anything with her life except mourn the passing of his. She was sure that he wouldn't have wanted that. Looking around the clearing for her mentor, Eveningpaw wondered what her and Mistfur would be doing today. So far she hadn't done much other than explore the territory a bit, and she knew that there was a lot she still had to learn. Well, bring it on, then. I'm ready.
She was invisible, undetectable, stalking the prey that was completely unaware of her. Leopardkit prowled along the sandy floor of the clearing, creeping stealthily up on her target, her sandy-brown pelt blending seamlessly into the red earth. Her short little tail flicked back and forth with anticipation as she neared her prey; soon it would feet her wrath! Bunching her haunches, the young she-cat tensed her muscles and then sprang with a roar of mighty power. "Reeeear!" she mewed, flying through the air and landing on top of her father. "Surrender or die, intruder!" Leopardkit balanced precariously on Hawkfoot's back, clinging like a limpet with all four of her little paws. She bared her fangs, adopting her most fearsome hunting grimace, but she didn't unsheathe her claws. What kind of kit would she be if she harmed her own father?
Eveningpaw made her way carefully out of the apprentices' den and down the cliff. She had only moved into the cave a few days ago, and it was still a bit strange to be sleeping in the company of the other training apprentices, as opposed to beside her mother. Even stranger was sleeping without her brother Buckkit at her side. She still felt guilty about his death, despite the fact that it had been as much his idea as hers to go exploring. Letting out a short breath, she shook her head to clear it. She would just have to be the best warrior that she could be, then. For Buckkit. One day, when she saw him again in StarClan, (because yes, the young she-cat did believe in it) she didn't want to have to tell him that she hadn't done anything with her life except mourn the passing of his. She was sure that he wouldn't have wanted that. Looking around the clearing for her mentor, Eveningpaw wondered what her and Mistfur would be doing today. So far she hadn't done much other than explore the territory a bit, and she knew that there was a lot she still had to learn. Well, bring it on, then. I'm ready.
She was invisible, undetectable, stalking the prey that was completely unaware of her. Leopardkit prowled along the sandy floor of the clearing, creeping stealthily up on her target, her sandy-brown pelt blending seamlessly into the red earth. Her short little tail flicked back and forth with anticipation as she neared her prey; soon it would feet her wrath! Bunching her haunches, the young she-cat tensed her muscles and then sprang with a roar of mighty power. "Reeeear!" she mewed, flying through the air and landing on top of her father. "Surrender or die, intruder!" Leopardkit balanced precariously on Hawkfoot's back, clinging like a limpet with all four of her little paws. She bared her fangs, adopting her most fearsome hunting grimace, but she didn't unsheathe her claws. What kind of kit would she be if she harmed her own father?