Post by slack on May 11, 2011 21:46:04 GMT -6
The tepid temperature in the camp had proved unsuccessful at easing the young warrior’s tangled thoughts throughout the night. His resting hours had been neither calming nor relaxing, but rather fitful and riddled with uncharacteristic anxiety. He had lain awake through half of the night, listening absently to the tranquility of WindClan’s nocturnal life. It had been a peaceful night, despite his mind’s reluctance to rest. Occasionally, his ear would twitch at an unusual sound. He never rose to investigate, though, chiefly because his mind was too occupied with the concept of having his first apprentice.
It was all so terribly strange. Oakheart had always imagined himself older and, reluctantly, more mature before he’d be given the almighty responsibility of an apprentice. Apprentices were for the respectable, boring senior warriors. Of course, he’d never admit his hesitance aloud. The warrior wore his new role proudly, not once allowing his charade to slip. The whole ‘being given an apprentice’ thing was considered an honor. Or something. Despite having completed a few brief training sessions with Slatepaw, a small rock of apprehension still lay in the pit of his stomach. It was as if a part of him were reluctant to believe that he could actually pull it off.
A heavy breath fell from the slender warrior. He lifted his elegant head lethargically, turning bright green eyes to the skyline. Immediately, he shrank from the sight, his lips drawn back in a distasteful grimace. A tinge of pink had ebbed into Silverpelt’s rich, dark indigo. Clearly, no sleep would be had on Oakheart’s part. He huffed a soft, uneasy sigh and pulled his lanky body to his paws. Almost mechanically, he directed his steps towards the point where most of the apprentices slept. The path was still faintly embedded in the back of his mind from his time spent as an apprentice. StarClan, it wasn’t that long ago! he mentally cried, his anxiety returning sevenfold.
In reality, it had been over ten moons since his naming ceremony. Had Oakheart really stopped, breathed, and truly let his brain think, it would have occurred to him. It might also have occurred to him that he was twenty-five moons old and warriors younger than him had been given apprentices in the past. Instead, though, the young tom remained butt-hurt and nervous during his walk to rouse his apprentice. It wasn’t as if he had been given some horrible monster of an apprentice, either. She was a normal, decent little she-cat. Not exactly unfortunate-looking, either…
Gingerly, the tall warrior nudged Slatepaw’s shoulder. The action was performed begrudgingly, but not only because he was uneasy about his mentoring capabilities. The young female looked exceedingly peaceful in slumber, it seemed almost a sin to rouse her. Immediately following his touch, Oakheart leaned down until his muzzle was inches away from her ear. ”Training time, Slatepaw.” He said it quietly, so as not to rouse her den-mates, and stepped back.
Poor Oakheart. He's having performance anxiety xD
It was all so terribly strange. Oakheart had always imagined himself older and, reluctantly, more mature before he’d be given the almighty responsibility of an apprentice. Apprentices were for the respectable, boring senior warriors. Of course, he’d never admit his hesitance aloud. The warrior wore his new role proudly, not once allowing his charade to slip. The whole ‘being given an apprentice’ thing was considered an honor. Or something. Despite having completed a few brief training sessions with Slatepaw, a small rock of apprehension still lay in the pit of his stomach. It was as if a part of him were reluctant to believe that he could actually pull it off.
A heavy breath fell from the slender warrior. He lifted his elegant head lethargically, turning bright green eyes to the skyline. Immediately, he shrank from the sight, his lips drawn back in a distasteful grimace. A tinge of pink had ebbed into Silverpelt’s rich, dark indigo. Clearly, no sleep would be had on Oakheart’s part. He huffed a soft, uneasy sigh and pulled his lanky body to his paws. Almost mechanically, he directed his steps towards the point where most of the apprentices slept. The path was still faintly embedded in the back of his mind from his time spent as an apprentice. StarClan, it wasn’t that long ago! he mentally cried, his anxiety returning sevenfold.
In reality, it had been over ten moons since his naming ceremony. Had Oakheart really stopped, breathed, and truly let his brain think, it would have occurred to him. It might also have occurred to him that he was twenty-five moons old and warriors younger than him had been given apprentices in the past. Instead, though, the young tom remained butt-hurt and nervous during his walk to rouse his apprentice. It wasn’t as if he had been given some horrible monster of an apprentice, either. She was a normal, decent little she-cat. Not exactly unfortunate-looking, either…
Gingerly, the tall warrior nudged Slatepaw’s shoulder. The action was performed begrudgingly, but not only because he was uneasy about his mentoring capabilities. The young female looked exceedingly peaceful in slumber, it seemed almost a sin to rouse her. Immediately following his touch, Oakheart leaned down until his muzzle was inches away from her ear. ”Training time, Slatepaw.” He said it quietly, so as not to rouse her den-mates, and stepped back.
Poor Oakheart. He's having performance anxiety xD
