Post by Rubythroat on Nov 5, 2020 1:45:39 GMT
The Shadowclan warrior carefully navigated her way through their marshland home. Since Ramstar had granted the cat her first apprentice, it was only fitting that she should make their first voyage together to the burnt sycamore tree. All young apprentices cut their teeth and clawed their marks into the gnarled bark. Her own apprentice would be no different. After gathering Blackpaw from the dens with little fuss, the pair had set out before the first light of morning. A sliver of moonlight still crouched on the horizon.
Rubythroat led the way without so much of a formal introduction (what should she say anyway? Being responsible for this black fluff of a cat was a foreign concept to her, and truth be told she wasn't sure how to address this change just yet. Ruby, don't mess it up). Internally uncertain, she took a similar approach to how her own mentor Flintface had begun her training. Swift and unrelenting- the true Shadowclan way. A pale green eye flicked back to watch the younger tom. He was a small fluffy thing, but such was expected of his age- He looked strong and capable enough, though she worried the swampy stretches of their home might weigh his longer coat down if he wasn't careful... Her concern only made it more apparent that the pair ought to take the less traveled path to the tree. It would take them through deeper waters with fewer patches of solid ground. The best way to learn was by traveling through the harshest terrain. Learn the toughest, and float through the lesser. Afterall, how could a cat learn to properly patrol if they couldn't navigate within their own borders? How embarrassing! No apprentice of hers would be caught lost and half-drowned.
The warrior doubted the tom had been allowed this far into their territory as a kit, so he might not notice when she led them off the main path to the tree. Only when a swampy bog loomed before them did Rubythroat slow her steps. She paused to ensure her apprentice had kept up before announcing their destination, "We're going to the burnt sycamore today..." Her nonchalant tone shifted to hint at a playful challenge, "but first, we'll have to make it there." Not that she doubted herself of course, but it might be entertaining to see how he fared... For better or for worse, he'd learn.
Her gaze returned to the marsh. Tail cattails lined the edges of the bog. The dark water sat still and silent, save for the occasional croak of a frog. Vines dangled from lofty pine branches high overhead, and their shadows made the depths difficult to discern. Logs and roots speckled the marsh, and reed banks only provided relative soggy passage. Each step could lead to a dangerous slip or a sudden sink hole.
"Shadowclan is covered in swamps and marshes like this. As a warrior, you'll have to select the right path through. You won't always have the time to think about each pawstep." For certain, invaders or prey wouldn't stop and wait for a picky cat to pounce.
Feeling benevolent today, she pounced onto an exposed tree root to demonstrate. Hovering above the water, her tail hung in the air for balance. Next, she stepped onto a soggy patch of moss and turned to watch the boy curiously as the water pooled gently around her toes.
Rubythroat led the way without so much of a formal introduction (what should she say anyway? Being responsible for this black fluff of a cat was a foreign concept to her, and truth be told she wasn't sure how to address this change just yet. Ruby, don't mess it up). Internally uncertain, she took a similar approach to how her own mentor Flintface had begun her training. Swift and unrelenting- the true Shadowclan way. A pale green eye flicked back to watch the younger tom. He was a small fluffy thing, but such was expected of his age- He looked strong and capable enough, though she worried the swampy stretches of their home might weigh his longer coat down if he wasn't careful... Her concern only made it more apparent that the pair ought to take the less traveled path to the tree. It would take them through deeper waters with fewer patches of solid ground. The best way to learn was by traveling through the harshest terrain. Learn the toughest, and float through the lesser. Afterall, how could a cat learn to properly patrol if they couldn't navigate within their own borders? How embarrassing! No apprentice of hers would be caught lost and half-drowned.
The warrior doubted the tom had been allowed this far into their territory as a kit, so he might not notice when she led them off the main path to the tree. Only when a swampy bog loomed before them did Rubythroat slow her steps. She paused to ensure her apprentice had kept up before announcing their destination, "We're going to the burnt sycamore today..." Her nonchalant tone shifted to hint at a playful challenge, "but first, we'll have to make it there." Not that she doubted herself of course, but it might be entertaining to see how he fared... For better or for worse, he'd learn.
Her gaze returned to the marsh. Tail cattails lined the edges of the bog. The dark water sat still and silent, save for the occasional croak of a frog. Vines dangled from lofty pine branches high overhead, and their shadows made the depths difficult to discern. Logs and roots speckled the marsh, and reed banks only provided relative soggy passage. Each step could lead to a dangerous slip or a sudden sink hole.
"Shadowclan is covered in swamps and marshes like this. As a warrior, you'll have to select the right path through. You won't always have the time to think about each pawstep." For certain, invaders or prey wouldn't stop and wait for a picky cat to pounce.
Feeling benevolent today, she pounced onto an exposed tree root to demonstrate. Hovering above the water, her tail hung in the air for balance. Next, she stepped onto a soggy patch of moss and turned to watch the boy curiously as the water pooled gently around her toes.
