Hunting/training for Wrenpaw (Closed)

Russetpelt peaked his head through the Apprentices' den. "Wrenpaw, wakeup. It's time for trainng," He meowed, stepping back outside. He had only been a warrior for less than a moon, would he be able to train Wrenpaw well? He shook away the thought. Yes, he could. He knows everything he needs to know to be a good mentor. "I'll be teaching you to hunt today."

He'd been dreaming about chasing butterflies when one of them fluttered around to face him, echoing his mentor with a voice like booming thunder. Wrenpaw shot awake with a frantic "yes, Russetpelt!," leaping to his paws, and smashed his head against a low-hanging bough, collapsing back into a heap of fur.

"Oawh..."

The apprentice scrambled to his paws again, a bit slower this time, eyes brimming with excitement. "I'm ready!" he blurted.

Russetpelt chuckled at his apprentice's excitement. "Slow down! If you do that in the forest, you'll scare all the prey away!"
He led Wrenpaw out into the territory. "Alright, the first thing you need to learn is the hunting crouch," The warrior mewed. He dropped into the stance. "Balance is important, and don't stick your tail up, or else your prey will see you. But don't let drag along the ground either."

He nodded vigorously, but had to stop because of the dull throb in his head. Right. No prey would be scared of him! He'd be as menacing as a mouse.

Wrenpaw padded wide-eyed after his mentor as they left the safety of camp, the camp that had been his entire world, out into the open territory. He mimicked Russetpelt as best he could, tail up, tail down, tail lashing behind him like a whip, all the while standing lopsided and... Finch droppings... This wasn't so easy. Crowstar was going to send him straight back to the nursery.

Russetpelt sighed. "Like I said, balance is important. Try spacing you paws apart a little more. That should give you some more balance," He meowed. "Then once you've gotten that down, try stalking. Make sure to step lightly, and be aware of your surroundings. Don't step on any twigs. While doing all that, you also want to focus on your prey. Don't worry, it's a little easier than it sounds." He began creeping forward, showing Wrenpaw how stalking should look.

Spread his paws. Step lightly. Okay. Easy. Wrenpaw spread them, too far, looking more like a badger about to make dirt than a warrior on the hunt, but he corrected himself, glancing back at Russetpelt every half a heartbeat to make sure he was doing it right. He made it look easy.

After a few moments, when he felt like he'd never be able to get it perfectly, he fell into something that could pass as a stalking stance. Wrenpaw kept himself rigid, just in case he lost the posture. "Like... this?"

Russetpelt examined his apprentice as he adjusted himself into a correct stance. "Pretty good," He mewed. "Now you can try stalking. Remember, step lightly, be aware of your surroundings, and focus on your prey. When you think your close enough, leap."
He glanced around for something. He grabbed some moss from a rock, curled it into a ball, and tossed it near a tree. "Pretend that moss ball is a mouse. Try and pounce on it."

He glowed with pride, stopping just short of purring. Oh. It was on. That moss ball didn't know what was coming. Back in camp, when he was still Wrenkit, he was a bit of a moss-shredding champion, of sorts. The Crowstar of destroying moss. Wrenpaw waggled his haunches, tail low, taking slow steps toward the moss ball.

The moss ball didn't move.

Wrenpaw crept closer, closer, tiptoeing around the fallen leaves that would give away his position. It still wasn't moving. Perfect. The moss ball was completely unsuspecting of what was about to fall upon it. Wrenpaw tensed up his legs, practically salivating, and pounced.

He missed.



Okay, more than that. He missed and slammed his head against the tree. The moss ball went bouncing from paw to paw, and then into a hawthorn bush, flying away from his grip. Wrenpaw fell back, rolling along the roots, shaking the soil and bark ships from his fur, and leapt after his makeshift prey with a battle yowl.

This was no longer a hunt. It was a chase. The wad of moss rolled, bouncing among the stones, but he was too fast for it, sweeping it up in his claws and sinking his fangs into its scraggly green fur. He emerged back into the light, muzzle covered in green scraps, reminding himself to spit it out. Elders and kits had to eat first. That was the warrior code. He held his tail high, raising his eyes to his mentor.

"How'd I do?!" he mewed excitedly.

OOC: Oh my gosh, that picture is everything
IC:
Russetpelt watched as his apprentice creeped up on the moss ball. When Wrenpaw leaped, he ran head-first into the tree. "Wrenpaw! You alrig-"
But Wrenpaw had already leaped again at the moss, yowling. "Wrenpaw-" The apprentice has fallen backwards. "Wrenpaw! Are you o-" He leaped again at the moss as if it was a rival cat. When Wrenpaw finally caught it and brought it back, Russetpelt stared, mouth open. He shook himself. "You- uh, er, you'll need some practice," He rasped. "For instance, if you miss your prey the first time, your suppose to just leave it, and try again. It's not suppose to turn into a chase. And next time when you leap, try and measure the distance between you, and your prey. Then you can see how far you should jump."
Maybe he should just show Wrenpaw how it's done? He sniffed the air, and detected a squirrel. "I'm gonna show you directly how to catch something."
He dropped into a crouch, and crept toward the scent of the squirrel. When he caught sight of the furry rodent, he waggled his haunches upwards, then leapt forward, landing almost directly on his prey. He bit down on it's back, until it went limp. He picked it up and dropped it near a rock, and halfway buried it. "Try doing something like that. Remember what I've said."

The member 'Ivyy' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 3