Show Me Your Worth [Closed]

Brindlewhisker had given him yet another apprentice. The warrior had been enjoying his free time since the last two had their own warrior ceremonies. However, it appeared that he was destined to train the whole next generation of warriors. That was fine by him, as long as they turned out well. A groan caught in his throat as he stretched from his nest. Scraps clung to his fur. He quickly ran his tongue over all of them to clean up his coat. Once it was a sleek as he preferred it, the muscular grey and white tom padded from the den. It only took a few moments for him to scarf down a small rabbit before he was ready to retrieve his latest apprentice from her own den.

Slatethroat picked his way around the sleeping frames of the other apprentices. It would be a while still until their own mentors came to wake them. He preferred dawn training. A warrior had to wake at any hours the clan demanded, as did his apprentices. One paw prodded Poppypaw's side and he grumbled, "Time to get up, you have training." Without waiting for her response, he spun around and went out the entrance. His eyes traced the dull sky as he waited for the young she-cat to come join him.

Poppypaw barely registered what her mentor had said. After a couple of moments, she hastily got up, a weird pain nagging at her joints now and again. She slipped out of the apprentices' den, picking out a hare from the fresh-kill pile and munching on it quickly. She gave her long fur a quick wash then she was off to the gray and white warrior for her first day of training together. The she-cat weary - the nervousness plus the annoying pangs of weak pain that she tried to hide.

"I'm ready." she announced, pausing next to him. She realized even the easy morning routine had exhausted her, and Poppypaw stood there for a moment to catch her breath. Why... she wondered, another thing to keep her restless and frightful. Slatethroat was a tough warrior, and no doubt a tough mentor.

Slatethroat nodded as soon as she spoke. Getting onto all four paws once more, he set out to head for the camp entrance. His paws stirred the dust slightly as they padded onto the moorlands. It wasn't but a few pawsteps out that the warrior took off. Despite his muscular frame, his paws danced over the earth as if he were as light as air. The grey and white tom was far from bulky and clumsy. Once they had ran for sometime, he stopped to let the apprentice catch up. She took a second. His tail lashed in irritation. Both Talonstrike and Dovespirit had been faster. He shook away the frustration, hoping it was just that her talents lie elsewhere. If that was not the case, their time training together would be a long and difficult road.

"You've now seen a good portion of Windclan territory." He grunted, not looking down at her, "Of course, there is much more, but you will see it all later as your training progresses and we go on patrols. Today, we are going to practice hunting." Slatethroat crouched down and demonstrated a perfect technique. He did it twice, just in case, before motioning for the she-cat to do the same. His claws dug into a patch of sandy earth as he waited to see what she had to offer.

Poppypaw struggled to keep up with her mentor as he raced on. He was not the fastest WindClan cat, but running alongside him was difficult, her breaths hard and the pain in her joints now harder as she strained more. StarClan willed her to stay on her feet until Slatethroat stopped, but once they came to a halt the cream calico tumbled of her feet. Embarrassed, she got up as soon as her legs could support her, but seeing the tom drop into a hunting crouch, she avoided his gaze and followed a flying butterfly with his eyes.

Slatethroat glance over at her. His dumbfounded look quickly turned to one of annoyance. He was practicing a perfect hunting crouch, and she seemed not at all interested. There was no drive. Both Dovespirit and Talonstrike had shown far more drive than this kit, even on day once. The warrior instantly jumped to his feet, a growl rising in his chest. If she would not pay attention on her own, he would make her. His green eyes bore down into hers, "What are you doing? This is training, not playtime!" Noticing her gaze was focused on a butterfly, he whipped around and in a flash stalked after the tiny creature that seemed to float on the air. Unsheathing his claws, Slatethroat leaped and caught it under his paws. Claws easily tearing apart the fragile wings, he turned back to the apprentice, "Pay attention."