Clan Skills

Dapplepaw had found herself growing bored, traveling for so long had begun to take its toll. She just wanted to explore and learn, but everyone seemed to caught up in their own thoughts to give a second thought to the small apprentice. She had been hesitant to join any patrols, after all, her training hadn't been able to fully start due to the circumstances of leaving the lake. She looked back in the direction she came, a feeling of longing rising up in her chest. The only life she had ever known lay on those shores, and she knew that her mother and father lay on it as well, with Flurryshine at their side. Shoving down the sudden sadness that gripped at her heart, she turned and made her way to the river they had been travelling along. She had always been drawn to the water, even though she had never fully been submerged in it. Her blue eyes sparkled in the light that refracted off of the small currents that swirled their way through the water, and a movement caught her eye. Her head turned, watching intently while a creature swam into view, and she quickly recognized it as a fish. Waiting at the edge of the water, she tried to remember if she had watched any of the other cats catch one. A time didn't come to mind, but surely it wasn't that hard, right? You just had to... scoop it out of the water, easy!

She waded a small way into the river, and waited until she thought the fish was in reach. Shooting out a white paw, dismay flooded her face as she realized it connected with nothing but water, the fish swimming rapidly away untouched as she fell forward into the water. Sitting up sputtering and gasping, shocked between the chill of the water and pelt burning in embarrassment at her failure, she angrily stalked back to the shore, shaking out her thick, and now heavy with water fur. Casting a quick glance around, she hoped that no one had seen the poor display she had put on.

Barleytuft had stayed by Graybriar's side as often as possible during the journey. The she-cat had a deep leg injury that seemed as though it would never heal, and while Barleytuft was certainly offering her physical support because of that, he also knew that she needed companionship. When the Clan cats had all reunited on the twoleg bridge, Graybriar had searched hopefully for her only remaining son, Briarpaw. It had been hard to navigate the rushing crowd of cats searching desperately for their loved ones. Unfortunately, they had not found the tom. Any WindClan cats they found had seen no sign of him, nor of Brindlestar or Finchbreeze or even Swiftstep, Barleytuft's former mentor and the Clan's former deputy.

Barleytuft himself had looked around for his brother, Fallenpaw, once or twice, though why he did so wasn't certain; the young tabby had disappeared from WindClan moons ago. Not seeing his pale tabby pelt among the crowds still made his heart heavy. The WindClan tom had lost his mother in leaf-bare and found his father dead on the shore after the flood. He realized sadly that he was likely all that remained of his family, but, ever the optimist, he thought of the family he had gained with Graybriar. With it, he understood her pain at being unable to find her son. He had stayed by her side to care for her and try to reassure her that there was still hope. If no one had seen him then he could be alive. Still, he gave her the space to grieve and worry, always offering support when she needed it.

At this time, Barleytuft had excused himself from his mate's presence to make an attempt at going hunting. The tall, lean WindClan tom had just began to peel towards the river to get a drink when he spotted a small thick-furred light gray she-cat with a dark stripe wading into the water. Barleytuft took off nervously down the bank for about four pawsteps, worried that an apprentice was about to get swept by the river's current, before realizing that the she-cat's fur was shiny, as if oiled. He realized she must be RiverClan, and getting closer to her scent confirmed it. Barleytuft watched her with curiosity as she studied the surface of the water, looking for something. She must be fishing, he thought, his eyes glimmering with interest.

The little she-cat stood nearly motionless for several moments before a paw slapped out. Barleytuft had never seen a RiverClan cat fish before, but as the apprentice toppled face-first into the water and splashed ungracefully around for a second before emerging again, he was pretty sure she hadn't done it correctly. As the RiverClan apprentice made her way back to the shore, she stomped with frustration. She glanced around as if to ensure that no one had witnessed her failure; unfortunately, her eyes fell directly upon the pale tabby WindClan tom standing at the edge of the water. Barleytuft grinned and tried to soothe her frustrations, "That was still better than I could have done. I wouldn't even have made it in the water."

The WindClan warrior flicked his tail to beckon her over, meowing, "I'm about go to for a hunt if you'd like to come with me. 'Fraid I wouldn't be much help in the water, though."

This journey was shaping up to be much longer than Ravenpaw had imagined—more so now that he’d started keeping to himself. He’d expected the influx of cats from the other side of the river to make things more interesting; they probably had stories of their own, and if they didn’t, he could at least ramble at them about the dog attack until their ears fell off. He’d been wrong. Their group was bigger, yes, but he had yet to talk to one of his new travel companions, much less make a friend among them. He remembered wishing once or twice, while curled up in the old Twoleg nest, that he could close his eyes and wake up at home, even if it meant being in the nursery again; that wish had long ago started to invade his thoughts during the sunlit hours, and it was more persistent than it had ever been. Restlessness buzzed anew through his paws. And so, he wandered. Probably more than Brookclover approved of, considering he was still very much in training, but why in StarClan’s name would he want to train at a time like this?

A gray pelt at the riverside caught his eye; someone from across the bridge. Ravenpaw started forward, but the she-cat’s movement stopped him in his tracks. She was going in the water. Eager to learn what could possibly be incredible enough to risk facing the river (even the world’s juiciest rabbit couldn’t get him to go within a fox-length of it), the WindClan apprentice hunkered down, ears twitching back as he half-watched the she-cat wade in. She stood for what to Ravenpaw seemed like forever. Then her paw darted out at something he couldn’t see, and she toppled forward. The tension broke; Ravenpaw burst out laughing. The sight of the she-cat storming back onto the bank only made him laugh harder.

About then, he noticed another cat, one he recalled seeing around the shore, and his mouth snapped shut. ”Sorry,” he said, still grinning. ”I’ve just never seen someone do that before.” He'd never seen a paw move so fast; of course, that wasn't the funny part. He wanted to ask what any sensible cat would be doing in the water in the first place, but something told him that might not be something he could ask in the presence of someone he'd just laughed at unless he wanted to be (perhaps rightfully) made fun of, so he kept his mouth shut. For now. At the prospect of a hunt, he hesitated. Anything beat fretting about questions he wouldn’t be able to answer until he was on the moor in StarClan knew how long. Plus, it’d show Brookclover he wasn’t just sitting around and moping. Ravenpaw swallowed, then approached Barleytuft, eyeing the much older tom a little nervously; after all, he hadn’t been invited, and he wasn’t exactly a good hunter yet. Then again, he’d been lucky as of late. ”Can I come along?” That sounded too uncertain for his liking; his smile brightened twofold to compensate.

Just as her shoulders relaxed, thinking that she had gotten off lightly, with no cat seeing her, her blue eyes suddenly found themselves staring right at another cat. Dismay flooded her expression, and she lowered her head, ears pressed flat in embarrassment. She braced herself for a scolding, or at least a lecture, but her head raised in surprise as neither came, instead just a gentle reassurance. She stared up at the pale tabby tom for a moment before a smile crept up on her face, and before she knew it she was excited again. She opened her mouth to eagerly agree to come, when she heard the laughing coming from behind her. Her shame came flooding back as she saw a black tom with a white chin and paw, and her expression shifted to a glare as he kept laughing. "Well, I'd like to see you try to do any better!" Turning her back to Ravenpaw, she looked to Barleytuft again. "That was my first try... I just became an apprentice and I haven't actually learned how to catch a fish yet..." She shuffled her paws as she trailed off, before forcing herself to perk back up. "But someday, I'm going to be the best hunter RiverClan has ever seen, no, that all the clans have ever seen!" Her tail waved excitedly behind her, and she cast a sharp glance at the other apprentice who had laughed at her as he approached. "I'm Dapplepaw, by the way, and I would love to go hunting, even if I don't know much... Well, really anything..." She looked back to the water, then to the black and white tom. A flash of scales caught her eye again, and an idea flowed into her head like the current. Turning back to the water, she waited until the shimmer of scales grew closer before striking out again, trying to make sure that she had the distance and timing right this time.

Her eyes widened in surprise as her paw met resistance, and she was startled momentarily by the flash of sunlight on scales as the fish flew up past her nose, flailing wildly in the arc from the water. Ignoring the droplets that fell around her, she instinctively batted the creature onto the shore before pouncing on it and biting it at the head. Staring down at it for a moment, she could hardly believe what she had just done. Had she actually caught a fish?... The idea came back, and straightening up tall, she picked up the slippery fish as best as she could, and threw it straight at the black and white apprentice's head. "There, that's what I was doing. It's really tasty, perhaps you should try it." She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction before she remembered the older tom that was also there, and quickly looked over, hoping she hadn't offended him in any way. Stars, she was acting like a kit again! What would Scorchclaw think?.... She had done it without thinking, her wounded pride getting the better of her... But she still had to stifle her giggles as she recalled the fish sailing through the air towards her fellow apprentice.

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 4

Barleytuft had been watching the she-cat so intently that he hadn't even noticed Ravenpaw, his Clanmate and his former apprentice's adopted son. I've let my guard down, he noted, feeling a touch self-conscious. Just because there were no enemies among the Clans didn't mean that predators couldn't approach. They had much too far to go to get lacksadaisical about security already. Barleytuft acknowledged the thoughts and focused on the present and Ravenpaw's laughter. The RiverClan she-cat, who had seemed relieved and even excited a moment before, suddenly had a sour expression on her face as she turned to glare at the dark WindClan cat. "Well, I'd like to see you try to do any better!" she said indignantly. Barleytuft himself looked over her shoulder to Ravenpaw and raised a brow, a look of only the mildest reproach, the amusement still shining in his dark hazel eyes.

The pretty young apprentice turned back to Barleytuft again, sopping wet coat and all, and admitted that was her first time ever trying to fish. The WindClan warrior listened intently as she explained she was a new apprentice, and he couldn't help but smile when she shared her honorable dream of being RiverClan's - all the Clans' - best hunter. The she-cat introduced herself as Dapplepaw after shooting Ravenpaw another sharp look. When she agreed to hunt, Barleytuft replied cheerily, "Perfect. The right attitude can help you learn anything."

From the corner of his eye, Barleytuft noticed Ravenpaw's timid expression as he slowly crept nearer. The experienced warrior recognized that look on the tom's face, and he smiled as the apprentice approached, asking uncertainly, "Can I come along?"

"Of course, Ravenpaw," Barleytuft purred, "but I do expect you to be a bit kinder to Dapplepaw if her prey escapes again. You are both apprentices, after all." The lean creamy tabby flicked his tail playfully on Ravenpaw's shoulder and added, "Now if my catch gets away, that's a different story and I deserve what teasing I get."
When Barleytuft looked back to Dapplepaw, however, she did not continue further from the bank towards the rest of the Clans and the forest hunting grounds. Instead, the RiverClan cat looked from the pair of them to the river before an odd look crossed her face. She turned and waded back in just a bit, her eyes fixed on something that Barleytuft couldn't quite distinguish from his angle on the shore. A moment later her paw flashed out again, and suddenly a shimmering thing was flailing in the air. Dapplepaw threw it to shore where she pounced on it as if she'd done it before. The fish fell still and Barleytuft stared dumbfounded.

That is, until the RiverClan apprentice picked it up and flung it at Ravenpaw. Barleytuft watched, eyes wide, as it flew to its mark...

... and then the WindClan warrior burst out laughing. Through it he managed to ask, "You okay, Ravenpaw?"

Though his apology had been mostly prompted by Barleytuft’s presence (and his smile had probably undermined it on top of that), Ravenpaw had meant it; he was surprised to get a glare, under which he drooped slightly, and a challenge in response. He knew a dare when he heard one! ”I could do better,” he began, then trailed off, shooting a cautious look at Barleytuft. Thankfully, the older warrior didn’t seem mad, but Ravenpaw found he had no idea how to continue. Hunting for real, with no Brookclover or Grousepaw to correct his stance when he relaxed too much or moved too noisily, posed a greater difficulty than a training session; hunting in water was… Just a glance at the river made his nose sting. He changed tactics. ”My name’s Ravenpaw, and I’m gonna be the fastest cat in the forest!” That didn’t sound particularly exciting, but if “best hunter” was taken…

Judging by Barleytuft’s smile, he was allowed to join after all. Ravenpaw started to say something, but Barleytuft wasn’t done; as the tabby went on, Ravenpaw wilted, though, all things considered, it didn’t count as a scolding. ”Got it,” he said to his paws. Something flicked lightly at his shoulder, and he raised his head. He was getting full permission to make fun of a warrior! With renewed confidence and a flick of his fluffy tail, he prepared to address Dapplepaw again to find she wasn’t looking at him anymore: The gray she-cat had turned her attention to the river. Upon realizing this, Ravenpaw fell silent. Now that he understood she was fishing, he almost wanted to see how it worked. Almost. Not enough to further close the distance between himself and the water. The most he did was lean forward, squinting hard at the riverbank, thoughts an even split between cooler things he could have said and wondering how one went about catching a—

It happened in a flash. From the water flew a fish, scales shining. Dapplepaw leapt, and Ravenpaw’s eyes went wide with awe. Then the fish was soaring again. This time, it did not land on the shore. By the time the black-and-white apprentice realized it was headed in his direction, it was nearly too late to react; he turned his head just enough that the fish caught him somewhere between ear and eye rather than squarely in the face, which barely counted as an improvement. So much for “fastest cat in the forest.” ”I—you—you can’t do that!” he sputtered, more confused than angry.

At the sound of laughter, he turned to find its source—Barleytuft. The sun itself might have burrowed under Ravenpaw’s pelt for how fast he heated. ”I-I’m fine,” he meowed, not at all meeting Barleytuft’s eyes. ”Can we go now?” The idea of hunting was suddenly much more appealing. He had to come back from this somehow.

At Ravenpaw's quick retort that he could do better, Dapplepaw scoffed, rolling her eyes. The satisfaction in her chest swelled as the warrior starting laughing, and the she-cat looked rather pleased with herself... Until she saw the expression on Ravenpaw's face. The shock and confusion on his face, especially as he found the source of the laughter, cut through her kit-like glee she had taken in her "revenge". Looking down at her paws, she shuffled them in the wet sand on the bank of the river, and taking a deep breath stepped over to Ravenpaw and her catch again. She sat two tail lengths away from the black and white apprentice, and with a quiet mew she apologized. "I'm... sorry, Ravenpaw. That was rather rude..... I shouldn't have done that, regardless of what you did to me... I didn't mean to hurt your feelings..." She trailed off, and reached out a fluffy white paw to poke the now lifeless fish. "You can have it, if you want. Have you ever tried fish? It's really good!" She tried to meet his eyes, a very small, but genuine, smile across her muzzle.

Having made her apology, she looked back to Barleytuft and waited for his sign to follow, her tail tip quivering in excitement at the idea of an actual hunt. She couldn't wait to bring back what she caught to show her siblings and Wasppaw, and especially Magpiepaw and Scorchclaw. She'd catch an even bigger fish to take to them!

Barleytuft certainly hadn't meant to start laughing when the fish collided with the young black cat's head. As an apprentice Barleytuft had been a bit more of a troublemaker who laughed at things like this, but he'd thought he'd grown a little more since then. Perhaps he let himself get too wrapped up in the kittish antics. It had just been so surprising that he didn't really even know how else to react. He realized by the look of humiliation and confusion on Ravenpaw's face that the older warrior's laughter had likely hurt more than the fish could have. The tom felt his own embarrassment flushing his thin creamy pelt, and his chuckles trailed off awkwardly. The apprentice muttered that he was fine and that he just wanted to get hunting.

The RiverClan apprentice had realized that she, too, stepped over the line by flinging the fish. Barleytuft and Dapplepaw made a momentary, awkward eye contact; both of their gazes were full of apology rather than amusement now. Dapplepaw padded up to Ravenpaw and sat before him, offering a quiet apology. Barleytuft's pelt burned with disappointment in himself for not acting like the older cat. The she-cat had apologized for throwing the fish, but Barleytuft needed to apologize for laughing as well. Before he could, however, Dapplepaw continued, mewing to Ravenpaw, "You can have it, if you want. Have you ever tried fish? It's really good!"

Then the gray she-cat turned to Barleytuft, looking ready to move on. Since Ravenpaw had said the same, Barleytuft shuffled his paws slightly and said, "Ah, sure, let's get going. I won't be getting in the water, but I'm sure I can find something else near the bank." With that, the lean tom turned and padded a little closer to the treeline. He walked quietly for a few moments until he heard soft fluttering a few trees inward. Barleytuft prowled quietly and found a bird pecking away at a clump of dried berries on the ground. He hoped he could catch it, but they'd never been his strong suit.

Fortunately, when Barleytuft leaped he found that his claws met feathers. The bird tried to flutter away as he came down on it, but he came down quick and hard, and it didn't stand a chance. Barleytuft snapped its neck under his weight and let out a barely audible sigh of relief as he began to bury his prey for later. He would eat after everyone else was fed.

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 2

Cheek and pride still stinging (the latter more by far), Ravenpaw took one small step back from Dapplepaw, who had sat before him. Whatever she had to say, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it—or, rather, that he wanted Barleytuft to hear it. But Dapplepaw surprised him yet again. As she spoke, Ravenpaw’s expression shifted from embarrassment to further confusion, then to contemplation when he realized she was offering an olive branch. Everyone had stopped laughing at him; it was easier to see that it was just a fish, not worth starting a fight over. Besides, forgiving Dapplepaw didn’t mean he had to abandon the competition. A challenge was a challenge; if anything, he was less likely to back down now.

Relaxing, he gave the other apprentice a smile of his own, said, ”It’s okay,” and found that it was. ”I probably shouldn’t have laughed. Actually, it was kind of cool how you just—” Here, unsure how to describe it, he mimicked how her paw had whipped out to snag the fish from the water. Of course, it’d been cooler the second time, but something told him that could go unsaid. He considered the second part of Dapplepaw’s offer. Well, it couldn’t be worse than frog; an experimental tap confirmed it was less slimy than them. ”Wanna split it when we’re done hunting?” For the sake of their truce—and so, if he didn’t like it, it wouldn’t be a complete waste.

Thanks to Barleytuft, he didn’t have to voice his own reluctance to enter the water. Ravenpaw whirled around, started to march off, stopped. ”Oh, uh—good luck.” It wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t say that. With the important business out of the way, he headed toward the trees some distance from Barleytuft, quiet now, ears swiveling as he searched high and low for whatever prey the riverside had to offer. A tiny lizard, scales dull against the riverbank, caught his eye. It was no rabbit—he had his heart set on catching one of those in WindClan—but it would do. Immediately, he dropped into a crouch and began to inch forward, careful, for once, to keep his tail well off the ground.

His pounce was sloppy. The lizard startled and began to skitter away, but Ravenpaw was on it in an instant, and it soon lay dead in his jaws. His first real hunt, and he’d caught something! ”I did it!” he said in a hushed tone, words muffled by his catch. What did he do now? Brookclover had definitely told him, but he'd been so focused on the actual hunting bit that he'd forgotten... Leaning back, he searched until he caught sight of Barleytuft burying the bird he'd caught. That was probably it. Dropping the lizard, he set to work digging.

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 5

Her smile widened as Ravenpaw responded, and she nodded. "Sure thing! Something to look forward to, to celebrate our successful hunts!" She purred, before turning to watch the warrior pad away towards the trees. She could barely see his back as he suddenly slowed, then pounced on something unseen. Watching in curiosity, she made a mental note to ask him about it later - she wanted to be able to catch something like that too someday. Ravenpaw turned to go off as well, before turning and mewing a good luck. She waved her fluffy tail at him, and mewed before he could leave. "Good luck to you as well." With the two other toms gone, she found herself alone on the bank by the river. She looked around cautiously, not really sure of where to start... She could just keep fishing... Casting a quick look at the river, she was thinking that perhaps that was her best bet.

Just then, a water vole skittered up onto a rock a short distance away. She stood still, frozen in place, not sure of what to do. It looked fat, having begun to gorge itself on the seeds that newleaf had brought. Hoping that the river right next to them would help mask her pawsteps, she slowly crouched and began to stalk towards the vole. She took a long time, long enough for the vole to finish what it was nibbling on and begin to look, and the two froze as they locked eyes. Her tail tip quivering ever so slightly as she realized she had been spotted, she quickly sprinted towards the small creature as it darted away towards a crack. At the last moment she caught up, hooking it in the same way she had with the fish. If it had worked once, it should work again - right? It hit the ground with a soft thud, and as it was dazed she pounced, biting it's neck. Staring down at it, a thought tugged at the back of her mind, but she brushed it off with a self-satisfied flick of the tail. Carrying it back to where her fish was, she made a small hole and gently placed both pieces of prey in it, covering them slightly. A quick glance around told her she was still alone, and that her mad dash had seemed to force any other small creatures back to their burrows or the trees - but the river still shone with the glittering scales of fish.

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

---

'Hunting Dice' : 4

His first piece of fresh-kill properly buried, Barleytuft turned away to gaze back into the foliage, his ears perked and eyes scanning for something else. The tom began to prowl forward. Somewhere nearby he heard Ravenpaw's soft voice through the brush, and judging by his triumphant tone Barleytuft guessed he'd caught something. The warrior smiled in spite of himself, glad that his inability to filter his kittish amusement hadn't totally dashed Ravenpaw's spirits for the hunt. He hoped that luck - or skill, since he was Brookclover's apprentice after all - would keep Ravenpaw's hunting successful for the remainder of the patrol.

The creamy tabby's attention was brought back to the present as a bushy tail darted out in front of him. Barleytuft certainly wasn't a ThunderClan cat - capable of maneuvering easily through tight forest foliage - but fortunately, he was a WindClan cat, known for speed and a frighteningly fast claw-strike. The squirrel had emerged much too close to him, and, much to his surprise, Barleytuft recognized it and reacted swiftly enough to slam a paw down on its hind end, pinning it to the ground. It let out a surprised squeal and tried to twist around to bite at him, but he was faster, dropping on top of it to slam at it with powerful hind legs. After only a few kicks it went limp, and Barleytuft stood, grinning. His dark hazel eyes looked at his prey, and he beamed with pride.