Hunting With.. Who?

Stormstrike sat up in his nest, wincing as his sore muscles were stretched painfully. He had been out training until late last night, swimming against the strongest currents he could find and hunting until he couldn't stand. If a Windclanner could beat him in a fight, then he was still soft and untrained. The large tom flicked his ears, pushing himself into a standing position. Up and at em'. He'd be hunting today, according to Riverclan's new, wonderful deputy. The warrior shook himself, stumbling out of the Warrior's den stiffly. He hated taking orders from a cat so... unworthy, but he had to if he was going to earn his trust. Stormstrike leisurely padded to the Fresh-Kill pile and grabbed one of the largest fish he could find -he was a growing tom, he needed food -before moving slowly towards the entrance to camp. Who would he have to drag along with him today? Hopefully, nobody that would slow him down...

Blackpaw winced uncomfortably as he slipped out of the den, yawning. The cut on his chest was beginning to heal, but it still sting when he stretched to loosen his back, and the sensation lingered all throughout his morning meal, bringing an unsavory taste to his mouth. Finally, he got up, brushing leftover away with him slim, white tail.

Hunting... hunting... that was the order he had for today. Even with the soreness in his muscles from the fight with the WindClan apprentice, he couldn't tell Jaystream. The deputy was too busy to handle his issues, plus he couldn't divulge the secret of his trespassing onto enemy territory. Sulking, the apprentice trailed his tail and made his way, paws heavy, to the camp exit. He almost bumped into Stormstrike, but pulled back immediately as not to hit the surly grey tom. "Hunting, eh?" Blackpaw nudged his shoulder awkwardly.

The tom drew back with a hiss when a short, black and white thing nudged his shoulder. His striking summer yellow eyes narrowed. Great. Now he had to deal with an annoying apprentice.
"Hunting, eh?"
"Yep." He kept his reply short and irritable, striding out of camp before any other apprentices joined this sorry group. If any others were supposed to join the hunting patrol, they'd have to talk to the deputy. Stormstrike hid a grin. More work for Scorchclaw.
His ears flattened as his legs twinged uncomfortably. Starclan, let this be over soon.

OOC: look at that, it's trash ^

As quiet and serious as ever. Blackpaw hung back, feeling the pressure to succeed more than he felt when he was training with the new RiverClan deputy. For a while, he examined Stormstrike from behind, taking in the details of his gray tabby coat, watching the light bounce off of his sleek muscles. He didn't have much else to look at, anyway. Still, the silence between them was killing him, and, conjuring courage unlike any other, the apprentice quickened his pace to match Stormstrike's, an awkward but gleeful look on his face. "Rough time? I can get that. I just got my butt kicked by a WindClan scum." Blackpaw blurted out unconsciously, letting crucial information slip in his lazy tone.

ooc;; that's makes two of us

Stormstrike flicked his ears, huffing as the black-and-white tom quickened his pace. What on Earth was he doing? The tom nearly trotted ahead, but the apprentice spoke before he had a chance. What Blackpaw said made Stormstrike's steps falter slightly. Was... was he admitting defeat?
Was that something a cat could even do?
Thinking quickly, Stormstrike tried to decipher Blackpaw's plan. Perhaps the young apprentice was trying to relate to him? Perposterous! No... there was something else going on here. Perhaps it was a diversion. Yes! A clever ruse, a way to distract Stormstrike from something. The newly-appointed warrior cast a look around, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. No, that must not be it. Perhaps Blackpaw was trying to appear... stronger? Purposefully putting himself in a vulnerable position just to prove to Stormstrike that he could take it? It was doubtful, but the only thing that made sense so far. Stormstrike flicked his tail. There was only one way to counterattack; he, too, had to admit defeat. So, going against everything he had ever learned ever, Stormstrike spoke. "So did I," He admitted (Why was he telling such an annoying apprentice this? It would come back to bite him later, he was sure). "They must be using a new fighting tactic- I wouldn't put it past them to use a cheap trick against us in battle," The tom shook his head. "Although, I don't think my opponent would've normally been able to beat me. The cat I was battling attacked me when I tried to make peace," He explained, summer-yellow eyes wide and innocent-looking. "So I suppose she was angry that we demonstrated our superiority and took it out on me."

Blackpaw's eyes widened for a second and he looked up at the warrior, this time no longer intimidated. After his simple words, the otherwise quiet cat seemed to completely open up, gushing on and on... admittedly just about his hatred for WindClan. It was almost adorable, how Stormstrike broke down into this passionate speech about battle tactics. The apprentice didn't realize how he drifted into a stare, losing touch with reality for a moment, until he almost tripped and picked himself up, embarrassed.

"Huh... I think I've never heard you talk this much." the white and black tom commented, twitching his whiskers with a shy smile.

Blackpaw was calling him weak! He couldn't let that stand. Stormstrike's eyes widened, and he rushed to defend himself. "What? I don't talk that much. You just... don't pay enough attention, that's all." He mewed, his voice shifting back into a low, angry-sounded grunt. "Your mentor must not have taught you that; it's an important lesson to learn." He trotted faster, moving in front of the apprentice once more.
After a short while of silence that seemed to stretch between the two, Stormstrike spoke again. "Who is your mentor, anyway?"

Blackpaw fell quiet, biting his tongue with a mixture of regret and embarrassment, almost tripping over his own paws as his entire attention snapped to the upset tom. He couldn't find his mistake, and that confused and almost scared him. Stormstrike seemed like he was almost tethering on the brink of having anger issues all of the time. "I... uh... I meant..." the RiverClan apprentice stuttered back in response, avoiding trying to catch the other's eyes. This ordeal had him pinned in a corner. Surely calling it quits while he was supposed to help he ever-so hard-working warrior in favor of escaping this awkward situation would not bode well with said warrior.

"Scorchclaw." the name fell flat as he pronounced it, an expectant look as he dared tilt his black-splattered head back. "He's the one who suggested I'd tag along to more patrols..."

"Of course." The tom mewed. Why was he not surprised. "I respect my father's decision, but... well, he's no Ivystar. Still, he's better than some. I could give you extra hunting and fighting tips, if you'd like." The last few words slipped out of his mouth before Stormstrike could stop them. No! "I mean, that is, if you would... uhm. You're in need of proper guidance, and I'd be happy to help you realize your true potential." This was just a favor- that's all. Passing down Ivystar's knowledge. Please, please say no...