Patrolling with the sons (closed)

Padding through the camp clearing that was filled with morning sunlight, Smokepelt reached the apprentice sleeping area and found Slatepaw and Icepaw's pelt and prodded the apprentices with a white paw. "Wake up," the tom meowed softly. He'd promised the two of them that he'd take them on a patrol now that they were apprentices, and he never broke his promises. Exiting the area, the dark grey tom sat by the fresh kill pile, waiting for the two to join him.

Slatepaw almost growled as someone prodded him awake. Sleep had not been easy that night and he felt groggy. However, Smokepelt's scent reached the apprentice and he suppressed the agitated growl. Instead, he awoke and stretched away the claws of sleep that were still hooked in his only half-awake mind. He too prodded Icepaw. They were finally going to be training with their father. A brief pang of frustration hit him as he remembered their sister wouldn't be joining them. The two had many plans to grow up and train as warriors together. That had been ripped away the moment she had taken on a position as a medicine cat. After shaking off his pelt to remove any scraps hat may still be clinging on, Slatepaw went to exit the den without waiting for his brother.

"I'm ready." He flashed a quick and determined grin towards his father. Training with Smokepelt had been something he had waited for eagerly for moons. Sagepaw had seemed less excited at the prospect, but that didn't matter not anyways. Icepaw would be an acceptable replacement. Slatepaw dipped his head respectfully to the warrior tom as he would to a cat of great status. Despite the fact Smokepelt had been officially stripped of his title, his son wasn't bothered by it. To him, Smokepelt was still the greatest warrior; he was even better than Brindlewhisker and Ashstar combined.

Ever the deep sleeper, Icepaw grumbled when his father nudged him to try awaken him, curling tighter into a ball until another sharp prod at the base of his tail got a annoyed hiss out of him. Slowly, the apprentice unfurled, contorting himself into odd shapes to chase away the cricks in his bones from a long, blissful sleep. Opening his jaw's widely, he let out a tired hiss before finally padding out of the apprentice den looking marginally more awake.

Shaking off the last of the little mossballs clinging to him, he came over to where his father, Smokepelt, and brother, Slatepaw, were waiting for him. He naturally picked up pace a little, pretty much running the short distance up to his father, eyes shining with eagerness and pride. He looked forward to learning from Smokepelt, the only deputy of WindClan in his mind. Alike his brother, he dipped his head in respect to Smokepelt (something he deliberately avoided with Brindlewhisker) to greet him. "Apologises for my tardiness. I'm ready to learn from you, father."

Flicking the tip of his tail back and forth, Smokepelt looked up from a spot on the ground that he'd been staring at to see Slatepaw. Not long after the grey and white apprentice had arrived, Icepaw was trotting over to them. Standing up, he gave his pelt a shake and yawned as he flexed his claws into the dry earth bellow. "Ready or not, grab something to eat before we leave. This patrol is going to be a bit longer and you'll need energy for hunting," Smokepelt meowed blandly, pointing his nose to the freshkill pile. In the past, he would've been ecstatic to go on patrols with his kits, but the fire that'd been burning in his soul had been blown out, and now... he found it difficult to find joy in anything.

Slatepaw nodded curtly, noting his father's tone, but saying nothing. As they patrolled, Slatepaw would certainly be sure to impress his father then. The thought caused his claws to dig into the earth. In a moment, he had reached the freshkill pile and plucked a decent sized rabbit from the pile. Him and Icepaw could easily share it. He settled down to tuck into it. Quick bites finished off his portion after a few seconds. The tom wouldn't leave his father waiting. Training with Smokepelt seemed far more interesting than training with Ashstar. His father would never berate him for defending the territory.

"Let's go." He meowed, standing tall near the camp entrance.

Following suit, Icepaw devoured the rabbit in a few bites before following behind his brother. He eagerly awaited their excursion out into the territory.

ooc. gomen it's smol

Giving a small nod when the two finished eating, the lean grey and white tom made his way towards the entrance. He was always glad to get out of camp and had to admit that his spirits would always find a slight happiness when on the open moor. "We'll patrol the gorge border first, and then head over to the Thunderpath," he mewed in his usual soft tone that was coated with a slight blandness as the trio of toms trotted towards their destination.