Experiential Learning and Morality [Semi-Open]

Bearpaw had not said a word when he returned to patrol. There were claw marks still sticky with blood across his face. Coalfoot [NPC] did not press much beyond just noting the border skirmish. Their patrol leader was a rather young warrior himself. None of the others had noticed the remnants of crested blood on his claws. Most cats avoided looking down at his paws anyway. Besides, there was some feigned pride at his rather flattened catch. The trio of Thunderclan cats headed back to camp with very few words exchanged between them. Borders had been marked, defended, and their duty was done. The young tom had the honor of bringing his catch back. But, his thoughts kept flickering between that and a picture of the gaping hole and carnage left behind from the force of his blows. As much as the image itself seemed to trouble him, and the ensuing conflict within, he knew that he had done his duty in keeping enemy cats from the territory. Aspenpaw had not died at his paws nor under the paws of a monster, Bearpaw made sure he ended up back in his proper territory where he belonged and would likely stay away from Thunderclan for a while.

Although his first thought was to drop the squirrel in the freshkill pile upon returning, he considered his mentor as the gorse tunnel snagged lightly on his fur. Perhaps it would be good to check in with the medicine cat as well. Bearpaw trotted towards the medicine cat's den. Marshstorm had been regaining his strength since the brief bought of sickness. Their deputy was a strong cat in all ways. And there was also a kind nature out that. Bearpaw appreciated it. A soft smile turned up the corners of his maw as he regarded his mentor. But there was a sting from the fresh clawmarks that had ripped through his fur. Once more, Bearpaw recalled the twisted mess of Aspenpaw's face. He just barely suppressed the flinch that came along with it. When he stumbled upon Marshstorm, finally, he dropped the prey at his paws. Lowly, he meowed, "It's for you. I caught it on the patrol."

There was a calm peacefulness insided of the medicine den. A collected quiet that seemed like it was waiting for something. He was relieved that this was his last night in the medicine den. Breath welled up in his throat and his eyes itched briefly before he sneezed. Leaves scattered a bit as he stood up on rest-weary paws and stretched out sore limbs. The muscles burned with the urge to run but the soreness of his recent illness and the need to rest. He turned to groom his dark pelt when the scent of cat and blood reached his nose. He looked over in concern as Bearpaw came through the entrance.

His gaze narrowed in on the clawmarks. He hadn't trained Bearpaw to fight yet, but the apprentice didn't look too badly wounded... until he looked at his paws. That was far too much blood for the squirrel the young tom held in his jaws. Despite his assessment, he didn't speak until Bearpaw had and kept his posture relaxed.
"Thank you. I will be ready to begin your training tomorrow." He replied calmly, then paused thoughtfully. "Bearpaw, what happened out there? Was there an attack I need to know about?" He stood then, more than ready to go request for Leopardstar if he needed to, though the young tom hadn't been in a rush.

The tabby's tail flickered slightly as he awaited a response from his mentor and deputy. With the thankful words and a promise of training, Bearpaw felt pride blossom up in his chest. Somewhat enthusiastic praise from the patrol had really boosted his confidence and distracted his mind from the memory of Aspenpaw's face. He tried not to think about it. That was what warriors did, he had done his job and there was no problem with that. But the image of the Shadowclan apprentice's face kept coming back to the forefront of his mind. What really scared him was the fact that he had barely done anything, nor meant to do much harm. He just wanted to chase the other cat away. Instead, he ended up depositing his bloodied carcass back onto enemy territory after only two blows.

His gaze had fixated on the floor for a brief second and thoughts of his catch faded for just a moment before Marshstorm spoke up again. Then, his green gaze flickered back up to catch his mentor's. The tom noticed more than those he had been on patrol on. If he would have noticed the implication of the interest, perhaps his pelt would have prickled uncomfortably. But his eyes glistened once again at the prospect of fulfilling his warrior's duty, just as Stoneclaw had always wanted and as he had learned was his purpose. If he could do this, then he could be something more than the strange wreck of a cat he had been born to be. Without any hesitation, he meowed, "Shadowclan apprentice at the border. I took care of it and made sure he got back into his own territory."

At those words, Marshstorm's unease was settled back into calmness. It was typical for apprentices to cross borders out of daring or perhaps just plain wrecklessness. Still, he looked at the amount of blood on Bearpaw's paws. The dirt and leaves should have wiped them clean of most of it. He settled back into his nest thoughtfully, eyes settling on the usual other appendages. His apprentice certainly had a lot of claws. A lot of potential for combat, but also a lot for something to go wrong. The idea made him feel uneasy. If something went wrong enough... could the apprentice kill a cat? Surely the extra appendages wouldn't affect his blow that much?

He mused this quietly for several moments, before he realised that it could be taken awkwardly.
"Well, I'm glad your first patrol was such a success." He offered after another moment. "Not many apprentices can say they fought a battle on their first outing, and with an enemy cat no less." He smiled at Bearpaw and flicked his tail affectionately against his shoulder. "You'll be a great warrior yet."

Marshstorm sat in silence. The apprentice's ears warmed and his pelt seemed to prickle uneasily at the silence. Normally, he would have not minded a lull in the conversation, due to his own afflictions that made such an ordeal more of a challenge. Now it just felt strange. As the deputy looked over him, Bearpaw fought the urge to shuffle his unusually large paws over the well-trodden earth. He held back. His jaw tightened ever so slightly causing the elongated fangs to dig a bit further into the fur and skin. It was enough to make any other cat yelp in pain yet for him this was the usual. Perhaps their medicine cat would have something to ease the discomfort that he had grown so accustomed to. Regardless, it would scar and the skin would continue to build up like it had and someday he would not feel it in the slightest. But at the moment he was almost glad for the pinpricks that pulled his mind slightly away from the seemingly troubled thoughts of his mentor.

In almost an instant, all of the previous moments worries were dispelled by the praise from his mentor. Fangs shifted once more in a lopsided grin. There were very few times that Bearpaw had ever felt pride. That almost seemed as strange as a second earlier's unease. Blizzardshine had taught it to him, however, and he was grateful that Marshstorm also allowed him to feel this way. It was a wonderful feeling. Although his catch had been due more to the ungraceful collision of him and Aspenpaw, the tabby tom's eyes glowed as he looked at it. That Shadowclan cat... Why was it still plaguing him? This was supposed to be a good moment and yet the haunting image of the bloodied socket seemed to stick there. His face fell as he remembered it. As his eyes flickered to the musty ground, littered with remains of leaves and herbs, the apprentice considered what was troubling his mind. As he looked back up at Marshstorm, Bearpaw had decided within himself without much dialogue to offer a little more of the encounter than he had with the patrol. Although, as he spoke, his voice betrayed the certain amount of pride that underlined the tugging of guilt.

"He was much more experienced. Almost a warrior, I'd say. Trying to catch a squirrel within our borders." Bearpaw paused, as if to taste the words on his tongue, "I'd never learned to fight but I bested him. His eye... with one blow. And then I dragged him back across the Thunderpath." He told the tale with as few words as required, reliving the pounding adrenaline in his veins. I did what warriors do. He will tell me what I did was right. This should not bother me. As the few thoughts shifted through his mind, Bearpaw tilted his chin up ever so slightly as he considered how his adoptive mother would likely also praise a wonderful first day. Despite not being one to compare himself to others, the tom could not help but consider what Pricklepaw and Beepaw would think. A catch and a successful fight all at once, with no training. What a great first day out of camp.