Growing, Learning [Ploverpaw]

Ploverpaw immediately noticed her mentor’s cheerful mood. It was the sweeter tone in her meow, the more springy way she walked out of camp, and her sunny smile. She purred back brightly, “Don’t worry, I love early dawn.” A calm morning’s temperature, especially, was always a welcome gift before the sun hit its highest and her pelt would become sweltering. It seemed Wolfblossom knew that too. Ploverpaw followed the molly loyally, pleased by her good thinking.

She took a deep breath, glad to be back in the forest again. She always appreciated how the trees lent her the relief of some breezy shade, but today’s nice crisp air kept her cool just fine. After a bit of traveling under the canopy filled with birdsong, she then noticed the trickling sound of water underneath the chirping, yet growing stronger. The Moonlit Creek, she realized excitedly.

She looked up to Wolfblossom as she stopped and asked, “Alright, scent anything?” Ploverpaw studied the area around them and parted her maw as she’d done before, searching for that particular rodent smell in the surrounding ferns. It was there, but vague and messy. Not the distinct earthy stench she was dreaming of. Her ears swiveled side to side, twitching with the smallest precision. Unfortunately, she found too many potential prey locations and was unsure which to focus on. The short, plush apprentice looked back to her mentor and disappointedly mewed, “Yes, I smell mouse… or shrew? But, I can’t figure out where.”

Ploverpaw took a deep breath, slowing down her heart. She did notice the ferns Wolfblossom pointed out and studied them keenly. She understood what Wolfblossom meant, spotting the ever so slight differences. Sliding her ears away from her mentor and towards the foliage, she focused on a specific small, gentle sound. Pitter-patter. The young molly’s soft, grey tail swayed with pleasure as she logged the delightful sound in her memory.

She slowly fell into the familiar hunting crouch, zoning in on the spot her senses claimed prey to be at. She could imagine it scurrying through the grass, brushing its cute face between intervals. It was heading towards the water. Ploverpaw kept steady, maintaining a careful pace as she stalked. The apprentice breathed in and out with each step through the plants brushing against her coat. After a while the mouse had left the thick foliage, and now its pitter-patter was fading behind the creek’s growing noise. Where is it? The apprentice took a long pause. Uhm…

She continued through the brush, hoping to spot it once she reached past the tall fronds. She was unsure if it was the same one, but a mouse sat there amongst the short grass and wet stones. Ploverpaw readied her back legs as it stumbled across the riverbed’s pebbles. She took a deep breath and held it. Shallow water lightly splashed her legs once she landed on the small rodent’s warm, brown body. She precisely pinned it between her paws and nipped the back of its tiny neck. Watching something turn from alive to dead stiff was definitely her least favorite part, but the satisfaction brimming in her chest was more than enough to overpower that. Ploverpaw rose her grey-pointed head and turned back to where she had left Wolfblossom, a limp mouse in her smiling maw and her plumed tail waving in the air.