Goldenpaw's Hunting Training

Lightfoot stretched the tiredness from the muscles in his legs and trotted to where the apprentices slept in the open, nosing Goldenpaw gently to rouse her from her sleep. "Good morning," He said gently so as to avoid waking the others. "Get up so we can go train."

Goldenpaw snapped awake.
"Wha-" She blinked then relaxed.
"Okay!" She mewed and stretched quickly and gave her fur a swift grooming.
(Sorry. I had a lot of homework)

"If you're ready, we'll head out now." He trotted at a leisurely pace out the camp entrance and over the rolling hills of the moorland territory. He couldn't fathom how some of the other Clans could stand living in their cluttered forests and marshes. He lifted his nose to the wind and breathed deeply before turning his light blue eyes to Goldenpaw. "I promise I'll show you more of the territory another time. You'll love it, it's so open and free. But for now, we'll be working on hunting because feeding the Clan comes first, especially now that leaf-fall has made its way around. Now, when you scent the air, what smells stick out to you?"

Goldenpaw trotted after Lightfoot quickly, her long legs making it easy. She listened to what he was saying and she then opened her jaws to taste the air.
"I uh... smell.. grass.. heather...rabbit... and dog," Goldenpaw finished," But the dog scent is stale. Maybe a day or two old?"
Goldenpaw was concentrating fiercely, she had to get this right!

Lightfoot smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Yes, yes, you're right. Now, before we chase after that rabbit, would you show me your best spring--as if you were springing onto prey?" He asked. Most mentors simply told their apprentice to do something, but Lightfoot was more interested in asking. After all, if an apprentice didn't want to do something, they wouldn't do it well.

Goldenpaw nodded and crouched down as if there were a rabbit ahead. She was trying to think back to when she was kit and used to watch the apprentices. She slunk along the ground, her golden fur blended in smoothly to the ground. Then she bunched her muscles and sprang, her legs kicking off. Then Goldenpaw hit the ground smoothly. The golden she-cat turned to her mentor with golden eyes as big as moons.
"Did I do good?" Goldenpaw asked.

"You did well, yes. Most of the time, rabbits will sense you coming. That's perfectly fine; they're rather intelligent, for prey. The goal of stalking is just to get as close as possible before we chase them down, so you're going to have to be fast." He crouched down, a challenging look on his face. "So will you show me how fast you can be?"

Goldenpaw felt a smile creep over her face. She was great at racing. She usually won against the other apprentices.
"Okay," she mewed, a hint of amusement in her voice. Goldenpaw crouched down, her long legs bunched into full muscle as she prepared to shoot away. Her tail waved behind her. She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Ready when you are," Goldenpaw grinned.

Lightfoot was a fully grown cat, and a great runner--the best in WindClan, and appropriately named for it, though he never thought much of it because he wasn't one to compare himself with other cats. This wasn't a competition for him and was mostly to get her warmed up for a day of chasing prey, because a hard run could do a real number on a cat's muscles if they didn't stretch them out correctly. Might as well make it fun, right? "Okay, just run until you get tired. Ready, set... go!" He started out at a light pace, his long legs carrying him over many tail-lengths in just a few bounds. He was more focused on Goldenpaw and her running form than actually 'winning,' but an infectious smile had already spread across his face and he found himself quite enjoying their training session. Lightfoot always held a love for running on the moors.

Goldenpaw sprang forward, her long legs covering many lengths quickly. Her back arched when she pushed off. Then her spine stretched out and her paws reached out to cover more ground. She enjoyed the wind that rushed through her fur and she loved the feel of running.

He observed her form, impressed. She was certainly a natural-born runner. Another excellent warrior for WindClan was on the way! Lightfoot was running at her pace, remembering the first time he was let out of camp. He hadn't had much endurance at the time, but moons of moorland running put him in peak shape. He continued running with Goldenpaw, avoiding stepping in prey burrows and letting her run herself out.

Goldenpaw let out a startled yowl as her paw plummeted into a rabbit hole she hadn't seen. It had been hidden very well. She gasped in pain as she realized she had twisted her paw. Goldepaw hoisted her paw up and sat down, panting hard. Her eyes were filled with pain and disappointment.

The white tom was alarmed by her sudden yowl. He halted in his tracks and spun to hurry back to his apprentice, nosing her softly. "What's the matter? Have you hurt yourself?" He asked, paternal instinct telling him that he had to make sure Goldenpaw was okay.

"I think I hurt my paw," Goldenpaw mewed, her voice thick with pain.
"So much for a good run," She muttered to herself.

"Alright, then. If you don't think you can run anymore, we'll have to head back to camp." He said. "But don't worry too much about it. Everybody gets hurt sometime. I used to get claws snagged in the ground and accidentally rip them out when I was an apprentice. Let's get home and have Gorsefeather or Emberleaf take a look at that, shall we? You can lean on me so it's easier to walk." Lightfoot stood up, offering his shoulder. The height difference would put Goldenpaw at his foreleg instead of his side, but he guessed that she would prefer that to being carried by the scruff like a kit.

OOC: Would you like me to PM Pika or Bloom? I'd still count this as a patrol, btw.