Lionpaw's Assessment

To be honest, Fogheart's apprentice hadn't needed much training battle-wise. Lionpaw had taken to tackling, clawing, and biting like a charm, which was only helped by her great size. But being big had its drawbacks, like making it difficult to sneak up on prey. So they'd trained hard on that. And for her assessment, that was what she'd be doing. The blind warrior waited at the pre-determined meeting place for her apprentice.

Lionpaw made a conscious effort to be quiet, even on the way there, to the prearranged meeting place. As she walked very quietly, she was graced with the sight and amell if a nicely sized vole. Unsure of if the assessment had started or not, Lionpaw took a shot. Crouching, she stalked up. Taking a giant pounce, she heavily landed on the creature, slamming her paw down on its spine and killing it. Proudly she picked it up and made her way to her mentor, dropping the vole at her paws when she arrived. Fogheart couldn't see, but a smug look plagued the she-cat.

Fogheart's raised her head and opened her mouth to the scent of prey's blood. Confused for a moment, she then picked up her apprentice's scent. "Started already, 'aven't ya?" It counted, she supposed. "Well, you're supposed to be catching three. If you want that to count, then there're two left." She bent to sniff the vole. It was covered with Lionpaw's scent, practically squashed. "Unless you want to impress me." Smirking in the direction of the younger she-cat, she buried the vole where she stood.

OoC: I HAVE FAILED. WE MUST FINISH THIS TOPIC.

Lionpaw didn't hesitate. With quiet paw steps she stepped away, to the edge of the river. The sun was facing her, so the shadow loomed behind her and away from the body of water. Peering slightly over the edge, Lionpaw waited until a dark silver form was passing underneath her. In a flash, her large golden paw reached out and scooped the large salmon onto the banks. In a quick pounce, the fish was dead. The catch was quite good, and Lionpaw was pleased with herself. Quickly, the fish was hidden.

After two missed attempts, Lionpaw was making her way up on a small thrush. A silence and calmness washed over her. She needed to catch this. In one leap, her claws dug into the feathers. She controlled her glee as she sunk her large fangs into the neck of her victim. Just like a cat, she thought to herself. After collecting her fish she awkwardly carried her prey back to the meeting spot.