Learning the Ways of ShadowClan: Burnt Edition

It was the morning after Scorchstar had taken Slatepaw out to train. The tom did fairly well for his first day of training, and he expected Burntpaw's training to go just as smoothly. After yesterday's session, he began contemplating taking the two brothers out for one training session to see just how they interacted with each other while practicing to hunt and fight.

The ShadowClan leader waited by the entrance of the camp, having told Burntpaw the night before he was expected to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by dawn so that they may begin their training.

In the time since being named an apprentice, Burntpaw had attended countless patrols and served the clan in many ways common to the duties to that of a young cat such as himself. But, he had not trained with his mentor. It did not bother him in the slightest, not even while Slatepaw was asked to join a training session before he. Even while his disdain for his late father grew, the one thing he could not deny was that his kithood had been wrought with valuable information. Hunting, fighting, all such things were skills he had picked up from a young age. Further training would only sharpen his claws and his mind more.

As the light of the day, broken by a brisk wind, touched his coat the tom shook his pelt lightly. Although it ruffled his recently groomed coat, Burntpaw turned his attention to the task at paw. There was training to be done more experiences to be learned. He picked his way across the clearing before stopping right before the Shadowclan leader. With a dip of his head, he greeted the older tom and meowed, "I am ready to begin, Scorchstar."

Nodding in approval, Scorchstar turned and led Burntpaw out of camp and into the marshes of the territory. He looked back at the younger tom. "I suppose we'll need to start with getting you practiced in hunting. Do you have any knowledge or experience in hunting before you joined ShadowClan, Burntpaw?"

Burntpaw followed alongside the Shadowclan leader. His sharp, green eyes scanned the territory before them before flicking back to look Scorchstar. In response, he gave a twist of his head. Before he had the chance to speak, the dried and frosted brush was disturbed. A flash of green. Frog. The tom glanced at the leader for approval before darting away to demonstrate the skills he already possessed. It only took a mere moment, combined patience and speed, before his claws sunk silently into the frog. Gripping the slimy flesh gingerly between his sharp teeth, the apprentice placed it at the older tom's paws. He finally meowed, "My father taught me." Waiting for a response, he studied Scorchstar's face, looking for hints as to what his response might be.

The member 'Regular Ripped' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 2

Scorchstar couldn't exactly say he was surprised that he would've been taught at least the basics of hunting during exile, but he was certain impressed that the ShadowClan apprentice had been able to catch his first piece of fresh-kill successfully, especially considering his father, a former RiverClanner, taught him how to hunt. "Very well done, Burntpaw. Since there doesn't seem to be anything for me to teach you, perhaps instead we could instead hone your skills with a little hunting patrol. What do you say to that?"

A more normal apprentice might have been puffed up by the leader's praise. But, instead, he was indifferent to the idea. Knowing to hunt and fight was simply something he had learned alongside his mother and father. The other exiles and the regime cats had shown him a great deal of many skills. Even if he had shown disdain towards the rogue group, he had watched them and taken in everything he could. Even in his young age, the calico tom had been an observer, drinking in everything he saw and experiences. Burntpaw met the leader's question with a quick nod.

While leaf-bare had already set in and left them with more snow than prey, there was still the chance something was out here somewhere. Relying on his keen sense of smell, Burntpaw lifted his nose up into the breeze to try to catch wind of something nearby. There were several things on the wind, mostly stale memories of patrols past and the faint tell-tale scent of a camp nearby, both of which were nearly deadened by the snow. Stale fox and... mouse. His ear flicked as he pinpointed the direction of the creature and took off towards it was. After navigating through a patch of long-dead bushes, he found the creature scuffling near the roots or a pine tree. Perfect. It looked like a den wasn't far behind either.

Burntpaw made sure to watch each step as to avoid a disturbance. Making it bolt could mean a lost catch, which was something he was not used to. With a tiny flick of his tail, the calico pounced. Because of the lightness of his step and pawful, the tom barely made a sound as he landed and slid his teeth into the throat of the mouse. His mouth was filled with the warm flavor of mouse and he had to push away the cravings of his own stomach. Another catch down. While he considered doubling back for a moment, the apprentice decided to wait before he returned to the Shadowclan leader. If the nest did contain other mice, this was a perfect opportunity, one he could not pass up. Creeping forward as he placed the prey onto the ground, Burntpaw inhaled just a mouselength away from the entrance. Perfect.

The member 'Regular Ripped' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 4