Training for Thistlepaw [closed]

The two cats made their way towards camp and the scent of prey made its way to Smokepelt's nose but he decided to stay quiet, wondering if Thistlepaw was able to scent it on his own. He's doing pretty good on his training so far, the tom thought to himself, proud of how well the adopted cat doing with clan life.

Thistlepaw continued to pad forward calmly, when a scent hit his nose, and it smelt familiar. Prey? He perked his ears, listening for any quite sound. There, a light noise, to his left. He flicked his ears in that direction now, stalking forward with alertness.

Slowing the speed in which he was walking at, the dark grey and white tom watched at Thistlepaw made his way towards the prey scent. He had faith in the apprentice and waited for the the smaller cat to hopefully bring back the piece of prey for the clan.

Thislepaw continued to stealthily move forward, making his paw steps cross lightly over the ground. He just now saw his prey, this time, a sparrow, he hadn't caught anything that could fly, after all it was only his first real hunt. He was determined though, and stalked forward, closer and closer. He was within a good leaping distance now, the young apprentice narrowed his eyes.

In a flash he was in the air, hind legs providing a valid bound. Claws outstretched he reached for the bird, praying he wouldn't miss. Unfortunately, he had misjudged his distance, Thistlepaw landed just millimeters from the target. He hissed in irritation, watching the sparrow dart away, letting out an alarm call.

He pawed at the dirt for a moment, before reluctantly heading back over to smokepelt.

After a few moments of standing in silence, Thistlepaw returned empty pawed. "No luck?" he meowed in his usual soft tone, a smile upon his muzzle. "Well, you'll get other chances to hunt," the deputy reassured the apprentice, starting to walk towards the camp again. "Don't forget to grab your prey," he meowed over his shoulder.

Thistlepaw huffed, but at the mention of his prey quickly jumped back to his paws. He felt rather embarrassed that he had forgotten, and wasted no time to rush over to the spot where he had buried his prey. He stopped at the upturned dirt, and began to dig it up.

In a moment or two he returned to his mentor, the mouse dangling in his jaws as small dirt pieces fell from it.

The two cats neared the camp and Smokepelt turned to Thistlepaw. "You did good today, I think you'll make a fine warrior," he meowed in his usual soft tone, genuinely proud of his adopted son.

Thistlepaw puffed out his chest, absorbing the compliment. "Thanks Smokepelt! I bet I will too." He said in a playful cocky tone, happy that his adopted father was proud of him.