The Lone Aspen [OPEN]

The past several moons had been quiet for RiverClan. It had been nothing but occasional, harmless border skirmishes with ThunderClan and quiet hunting for the apprentice. Aspenpaw let his paws carry him deep into the reeds, his mind wandering as he slipped across the territory. A swift, brisk breeze ruffled his gray fur, but he did not mind. The small tabby's coat was warm and long enough to keep him from feeling the chilly Leaf-bear winds. At least, for now.

His blue-green eyes rose from the ground in interest as a strong scent wafted through with the breeze. With prey becoming more and more scare, it might be some time before his nose came across another smell like this. Following it towards the river, he spotted the thin creature digging at the grass in search of food. The tom approached slowly, keeping low to the ground as he approached the mouse. He pounced quickly, snapping it's neck and turning it to inspect it. It was small indeed, but anything was better than nothing. Aspenpaw picked up the prey in his mouth, and sniffed it. The scent was intoxicating, tempting him to take a bite right then and there.

His attention was interrupted by the sound of moving reeds behind him. Whipping his head around, he stared at the stranger with wide eyes. "Hi," the grey tabby meowed calmly through the mouse's brown fur.

Whitefoot stepped out coolly, "I see you're doing well this morning" He mewed casually trying to be pleasant.

Aspenpaw let out a small, relieved sigh and placed the brown critter down gently. "Hey Whitefoot. Just a little morning hunt. Want to help?" the tabby asked, his tone void of any emotion. He was pleased to see the other tom, but his usual emotionless tone surfaced itself like always. Quickly burying his catch, he gave the white warrior a curt smile and gestured for him to lead them towards the next piece of prey.

Whitefoot shrugged and began to pad towards the earlier scent of water vole he had been tracking. The ginger and white tom motioned with his long ginger tail to be silent as he neared the creature. Intent on hushing his rumbling stomach he crouched and leaped, landing squarely on his prey. Turning with it hanging from his jaws he gave a short purr.

The tabby followed closely, making sure his whiskers just barely grazed the warrior's fur. He watched as the ginger and white cat expertly launched himself at the vole. Aspenpaw nodded in respect and turned his attention to the rushing waves of the river. "I doubt we'll have much more luck out here. Let's try the river next," he meowed and followed the path towards the cold water.

Whitefoot remained silent but followed the younger cat closely, he didn't have any friends besides his brother so talking to other cats wasn't his specialty. Especially younger ones, but Aspenpaw acted much older and had sense unlike some cats these days. So he kept trying to be nice and friendly in hopes of making a friend.

Aspenpaw glanced behind him, curious to see if the tom would speak up. Most cats attempted to make quick, pointless conversation to brighten his mood or filled the blank air. But Whitefoot kept silent, his mouth close in a smile. The tabby shook his head and quickened his pace towards the river.

It felt like a lifetime for the small apprentice before they finally reached the rushing waters. He dipped his front paw into the river, hissing as the cold nipped at his paws. The current was a little fast for his tastes. The gray tom sighed and turned to his clanmate. "Do you think we should try?"

Whitefoot shrugged, he wasn't a cat of many words, only speaking what needed to be said or if you asked for his advice. "Only if you think you can handle it, I'm just going to fish from the bank as my pelt isn't nearly thick enough for this chilly water." He mewed acknowledging the apprentices disdain at the water temperature.