Learning the Ways of ShadowClan: Slate Edition

It was finally time. The day Scorchstar would bring his newest apprentices, Burntpaw and Slatepaw, the sons of Lichenmask and Brushgaze, out into the marshes to train in the ways of the Clan. He had been observing the both of them for the past few sunrises, taking notice how Slatepaw seemed to be rather grumpy and aggressive at times. He hoped that spending time with him and helping him train would serve to be a good outlet for any possible pent-up energy the young tom may be suffering. He had decided to take each of them out separately so he may observe each one's attributes and give constructive feedback one-on-one. He didn't know if the littermates were the competitive type when training together, and he wanted to avoid that.

Having told Slatepaw to wake up at dawn the night before, Scorchstar now waited by the entrance of camp by the thorn barrier, awaiting one of his apprentices. He hoped the tom would wake up sooner rather than later; the sooner they got on with his training, the sooner he could go on patrols and hunt for the Clan; with leaf-bare upon them, he knew they would need as much food as possible, especially with the heavy, ominous prophecy always hanging over his head.

Making his way out of the apprentice den, the abnormally large, burly apprentice spotted his mentor, the leader himself, Scorchstar, across the camp. Yawning and showing a mouthful of sharp, pearly white teeth, Slatepaw held no emotion on his face as he reached the older tom. To him, such petty training patrols were simply a waste of time for him, seeing as though it wasn't that difficult to learn the way around the territory. Even though he didn't want to go where ever the leader was taking him, he couldn't help but be slightly curious as to if the older tom had anything more interesting for them today, though he wasn't going to show it.

Fluffy tail and thick head held high, Slatepaw stopped in front of Scorchstar, his intimidating, bright orange eyes locking onto his mentor's. "We better be going someplace interesting," the low voiced tom mewed bluntly, not caring about his manors, per usual. He couldn't possibly handle one more lap around the same borders.

Scorchstar narrowed his eyes slightly at the blunt tone of voice his apprentice spoke with. Shaking his lightly miffed mood off in favor of cheer, the leader led Slatepaw out of camp with a flick of his bushy tail. Once in the midst of their territory, heading towards the marshes, Scorchstar side-glanced over at him. "Today we will be doing some hunting training and battle training. Tell me, Slatepaw, how much do you know about either of these? Have you been taught how to hunt or battle before you joined ShadowClan?"

Following his mentor out of camp and onto the marshy moorland, Slatepaw padded next to Scorchstar, his expression as flat and bored as usual. Perking his ears at the question, the abnormally large warrior let out a huff of amusement. "Of course I was," he replied bluntly, puffing out his chest fur. "We would've been Kittypets if not taught anything about survival," he bragged, though half of what he said was a lie. While he'd taught himself to fight, especially after watching his father train other cats, he hadn't really learned to hunt and hadn't bothered to try it out, seeing as though it couldn't be that difficult.