Be the Best You [private]

Barleytuft sat in his nest for another moment longer, finishing his grooming before he stepped out into the clearing of camp. As he made his way towards the apprentices, he could still hardly believe that he had been chosen to become a mentor; he had received his first apprentice assignment, Brookpaw, only the day before. She seemed eager to learn, and Barleytuft knew that he was eager to teach. He hoped dearly that they would be a fitting match for each other. He sought out the red fur of his apprentice, meowing, "Brookpaw? It's time for your first day of training."

It was almost surreal sleeping among the apprentices. So many of them were well along in their warrior training and almost prepared to leave this den. Although she did not speak a word of it, everything simply left her in awe. Brookpaw's heart pounded with excitement as she settled down among them and it took a while for her to drift into what had thankfully been a contented sleep. As soon as other cats awoke, she stood, stretched, and shook out her coat before following back out into the camp. There was something incredible about emerging with a new title. The she-cat's chin tilted up towards the glowing, red sun as she took in what little heat it radiated. Eerie in its nature, the strangeness of the sky was lost on the young cat and she took it in gladly.

"Good morning, Barleytuft." She purred, opening eyes that she did not realize had shut. Her mentor seemed like a nice cat and a great warrior. Brookpaw was grateful for Swiftstep's brilliant decision making. Her chest seemed to swell with excitement as she considered the prospect of training alongside one of Windclan's warriors. After briefly shaking out her scarlet-tinged fur, Brookpaw looked up at the tom with bright eyes, "What are we going to be learning today?" There was a quiet eagerness to her words as she awaited a response. Brookpaw was sure that whatever he had in mind would be fantastic.

Brookpaw greeted Barleytuft warmly, and he replied with a purr of his own. First impressions could be important, the young warrior had learned, and he felt optimistic (as usual) that he and He watched her give her pelt a brisk shake. The apprentice's fur hardly changed in the light of the empty sky, but Barleytuft felt as though he were always covered in some strange dust. He gave his shoulder a quick lick as he thought about it, but his new apprentice's voice broke into his thoughts and he stopped to listen.

"I hope you're ready for your first big trek out of camp," Barleytuft replied, turning to pad towards the fresh-kill pile. It was small, but he was sure hunting patrols would be back soon. The Clan would understand that a new apprentice needed strength for her first time seeing the borders, surely. If not, Barleytuft would take the blame. With that in mind, he meowed, "Go ahead and have something to eat - you'll need all the energy you can get so we can make it all the way around WindClan territory."

He waited for his apprentice to select a piece of prey before mewing, "If you're not too tiredafter sun-high we could give you some basic battle training." Barleytuft turned his pale amber eyes to the sky and murmured, "StarClan knows you may need it soon."

ooc: i am so sorry i am dying ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

"More than ready." Brookpaw reassured her mentor as he slender frame stretched with her forepaws reaching out in front of her. Little feelings of exhaustion clung to the young cat, but in preparation for running out of the confines of the camp, she wanted to warm up her muscles. As she did so her claws slid easily from their sheaths and flexed into the earth before she stood. Per the suggestion of Barleytuft, the apprentice padded her way over to the freshkill pile. Her paws felt light with excitement as she did so, pads barely springing off the soft dirt of the moorland camp. The anticipation flowing through her made her chest flutter.

Despite the inability to fight back the enthusiasm, the apprentice was able to quickly scarf down a scrawny rabbit. The larger prey would be left for the queens and elders who needed it more than herself. Once finished, Brookpaw rejoined her mentor with bright, expectant eyes. At the mention of battle training, the fire in her gaze only intensified. Battle was merely one of the many duties that were expected of warriors and it was one that she was determined to master. Her long, russet and black tail flickered as a show of her internal drive. She nodded stiffly catching the tone of his voice but simply meowed, "I'm ready for whatever you have for me."

Barleytuft let his apprentice to eat in peace, giving his sleek coat a few more licks to try to flufff it up in preparation for heading onto the moor. He noted that she had taken a small piece of prey, and felt pleased with her choice to do so - though he hoped the rabbit would be enough to carry her through their trip. Once she had returned and expressed her readiness, Barleytuft nodded and mewed, "Well then, let's get going, shall we?" With that, the sandy tom's tail shot straight into the air and he began to move at a reasonably quick but steady pace out of the camp.

Once out of the entrance, Barleytuft paused and mewed, "We're going to go towards the Thunderpath between us and ShadowClan first, then make our way around towards the other Clan borders so you can become familiar with their scents." His ears twitched as he raised his head, opening his mouth slightly to breathe in the sharp scents streaking through the moor on the wind. Dog and Twoleg, but not since a few days ago. Rabbit. Seems all clear. He asked, "Aside from the camp, what can you scent here?"

As soon as Barleytuft suggested they head out, she was on his heels, following out into the world she had only dreamed about. With a blink, she took in the red-tinged moorland his. Sucking in a breath of the open air, Brookpaw felt as if she could have stayed in that moment forever. Her eyes drank in the natural beauty of Windclan's territory. If it weren't for the attention she ave to her mentor, the russet she-cat's paws likely would have frozen to the ground. But she managed to pull herself back into the moment and raced after her mentor. The feeling of the wind rushing through her coat, jostling it slightly, send a chill of pleasure down her spine, it was a marvelous feeling.

His pace slowed slightly to speak with her as they went along and while her paws itched to race away, she was immediately attentive to what the young warrior had to say. The thought of memorizing the other clans' scents was exciting, but more importantly an essential part of becoming a warrior. A quick nod with a respectful silence was the only response she gave initially. Brookpaw immediately took a sharp intake of breath per Barleytuft's instruction. A few of the scents that rose up into the air mingled together but she found with a little effort she could pick them apart, as she drew names to identify them, Brookpaw breathed the words, "The clan... rabbit... earth... and something else?" She did not know what twoleg or dog smelled like and it left here perplexed as she tried to come to a conclusion.

Barleytuft could see the anticipation in Brookpaw's eyes when he had slowed to speak to her. He felt another beam of pride; he had been excited for his first trip out of camp as well, and that itch to run showed the young she-cat's promise as a WindClan warrior. The young warrior dearly hoped that he and Brookpaw would make a good mentor-apprentice pair. He waited for her to answer his question, and the tom was very pleased by the effort in her response. "Very good, you're right on all counts," Barleytuft replied with a purr, continuing on at a brisk pace. "It's a stale scent, so it would be hard to identify even if you knew what it was: twoleg and a dog."

Barleytuft made straight for the Thunderpath as he had explained, occasionally pointing out helpful landmarks on the territory. Just when he began to smell the first scents of acrid tang he warned, "You're not deaf - I'm sure you've heard of the Thunderpath before. The monsters that travel on it are incredibly dangerous, so whenever you can smell this scent, don't run full-pelt unless you know exactly where you are and exactly where the Thunderpath is." He nodded his chin straight forward and mewed, "We're several fox-lengths away, but we're going to go right up to it - not onto it. I want to make sure you know what it looks like so you don't ever feel the need to come see it on your own."

Barleytuft let the silence hang there, hoping that he had been clear enough with Brookpaw that the Thunderpath was not to be taken lightly. She was a very smart and clever cat, however, so he wasn't too concerned. They continued to travel until the stench of the Thunderpath was overwhelming, flooding through the thick wall of bushes that edged it. Every several moments there was a thunderous whoosh as a silver- or red- or black-pelted monster raced past. Barleytuft crept so that he was underneath the bushes and just peering out, meowing, "Come up as far as me, but no farther. Monsters never leave the Thunderpath, so we need to stay off of it."

Once she joined him, Barleytuft gazed across the hard, rugged black surface; in the distance he heard an approaching roar, and within only a few heartbeats it had approached and passed them, buffeting them and the bushes with a blast of gritty, foul air. Barleytuft felt himself nearly gag and decided he'd had enough as he backed away from the Thunderpath and to the other side of the bushes again.

Any frustration at her inability to register the scents quickly melted away with her mentor's praise. Brookpaw felt more at ease with the older cat's purr and allowed the discontent tightening in her chest to loosen. She nodded in a quick response, tasting the air once more to catch the faint scents of the dog and twoleg that had passed. Like Barleytuft had said, it was certainly stale and tough to pick apart but as her nose twitched ever so slightly, the young apprentice let it wash into her memory in hopes the recesses of her mind might remember it for the future. Before they continued on, and after a brief internal debate on posing the question, she heard herself finally ask, "Do they travel here often? The twolegs?" The thoughts of such beasts roaming Windclan territory freely caused the new apprentice's whiskers to twitch uncomfortably. As they continued on, she attempted to shake the thought.

While they crossed the territory, Brookpaw was finally able to stretch her legs to their full capability. With ease, she navigated the open lands. The most difficult thing was keeping her sights on Barleytuft and making sure she did not sprint off in the wrong direction. As her mentor pointed out things, the reddish she-cat breathed in every word that he spoke. Her mind was sharp, ready to learn. All of her kithood had been spent preparing for this moment and she would not let it pass by so easily. She was determined to join the warrior ranks as swiftly as Brindlestar would allow. Thoughts of future grandeur were interrupted by a nauseating scent. Here it was, the place of monsters she had heard of: the Thunderpath. As Barleytuft told her more of the black, acrid-smelling surface, her gaze studied it with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

As he called her forward after sharing about the strange beasts, she followed at his heels. Wrinkling her nose in a futile attempt to block out the stench was nearly unavoidable. Brookpaw found herself taking a step closer to the warrior until their coats were touching, as the wind of a monster ruffled her fur. It was unpleasant for sure. It only took a couple of moments for her to want to move on. With a shake of her coat to dispel the unpleasantries of the Thunderpath, she looked up at him as asked, "Where to next?" in the hopes that they might continue on more quickly.

Barleytuft's ears flicked back as his apprentice asked a follow-up question a few moments later. He could hear the uneasiness in the she-cat's voice, and he responded sympathetically, "Sometimes. For the most part they leave us alone - I'm not sure that they even know we're here or that we have a camp." He rolled his eyes slightly and looked ahead again as he added, "Twolegs are mostly only dangerous because they're clumsy and unpredictable. Some seem to really like cats, but others would sooner stomp the stars out of you. They're fairly slow - not a match for us at all. We don't have to worry about them."

He hoped he had said enough to assuage his apprentice's fears, but the rest of the moor was waiting. Barleytuft was very pleased with Brookpaw's attentiveness as the two of them traveled, and felt relieved that she listened carefully to his warnings about the Thunderpath. When she crept up towards his side, he pressed his fur against hers as the monster roared past to offer her some support. She seemed attentive and respectful of the immediate danger, and Barleytuft was more than happy to move on once they'd seen what they came for.

Once both of them had stepped a few fox-lengths away from the Thunderpath and the stench was a bit more bearable, Brookpaw asked where next. Barleytuft flicked his tail down the line of bushes, mewing, "Towards Fourtrees; the Thunderpath travels right by it, which makes it a useful and rather well-secured border." Barleytuft led his apprentice parallel to the bushes, once again gesturing to landmarks as they went.

Soon, the Great Oaks of Fourtrees became visible. Barleytuft mewed, "That up ahead is Fourtrees, the neutral territory of all five Clans where we meet for the Gathering at the full moon." He flicked his tail across the Thunderpath; through the gaps in the brush, the distant territory's pine trees and darker foliage could be seen. "Over there is ShadowClan; we're not likely to catch their scent because of the Thunderpath - so long as they stay on their side. You'll get to see more of them at the first Gathering you attend." He looked at Brookpaw and asked, "Would you like to see Fourtrees now, or would you like to carry on around our borders?"