Birds Taking Flight

Starlingpaw awoke at the crack of dawn, the sun just barely peeking over the moor grasses surrounding the camp. He got to his paws and padded silently out of the apprentices' den, making his way towards the warriors' den. It was time for his training. Grousefrost hadn't really reached out to him about it and Starlingpaw didn't want to bother the warrior, he was still dealing with his disability after all. Starlingpaw had decided to take matters into his own paws this time. What better way to prove his eagerness than to wake up his mentor for training?

He made a little skip of excitement as he neared the den, tail flicking back and forth. This would be his first time getting to see the expanse of the WindClan territory; he'd been outside camp, but just on minor excursions to gather moss for the elders. The little that he'd seen was absolutely beautiful and he wished he could just run as fast as his legs would carry him.

The Bengal apprentice skipped up to the sleeping warriors and picked his way daintily around legs and tails, making a beeline for Grousefrost. Talking to him to wake him up would do him no good, he couldn't hear it. So Starlingpaw prodded at the silver warrior's side, planting his paw squarely on his ribs with an insistent force. Hopefully that would work.

He could hear it. The delicate chirps of the birds as they landed from their long flight away. He could hear the song of the grasses as they brushed past each other in the breeze. He could feel the cold, brown earth beneath his paws. It sent chills down his spine to think about. The realisation… he was cured? Perhaps he had only needed a little time. His ears twitched, in the distance he heard it. The delicate and rich sound of Goldengale’s voice. His chest tightened painfully as he raced towards the sound, shoving aside grass blindly as he ran in desperation. Darkness suddenly loomed over him, he turned in time to see the hawk…

He woke with a start. His heart pounded in his chest as he wrenched himself up with a fierce hiss and arched back, ready to fight the hawk that had descended upon him… only to see moss. Moss, tangled sticks, and an apprentice… a dream. His blue eyes looked around at the sleeping cats he had disturbed. His throat tightening in grief as silence descended upon him once more. The pelt of the apprentice caught his attention, and he glared at the newcomer with fury as he stalked out of the warrior’s den.

The idea of him teaching any cat… was ridiculous. When the little apprentice had come to him after Raventail had spoken on the rock, he couldn’t stop the incredulous look from his face. His last patrol with Finchstar had ended in a battle, and Grousefrost felt guilt claw at his pelt. He couldn’t teach the apprentice to defend himself or hunt. Yet, that’s exactly what he had to do.

He paused halfway through camp. The once efficient tom stuck for answers. His tail twitched as he turned to look towards where Goldengale usually was. He didn’t deserve her if he couldn’t at least try. What would Barleytuft have done? The older tom would probably have boxed his ears by now. With a huff, he padded towards the edge of camp. The snow a bleak reminder that what he had for just a moment… was all a dream.

( OOC: sorry, short post ;; )

Grousefrost leapt up with surprising speed and Starlingpaw flinched back, edging towards the outside edge of the sleeping area. He looked mad. Was it something he had done? Thoroughly sobered from his previous excitement, Starlingpaw loped after his mentor as the gray tom padded towards the entrance to camp. The apprentice's ear flicked as unease settled in the pit of his stomach. This...was going to be harder than he thought, for both of them. Grousefrost looked upset and Starlingpaw, usually so outgoing and personable, hesitated to provoke him even more. He hung back a foxlength behind, head and tail lowered. Somehow, he needed to make this better, then maybe Grousefrost wouldn't be so upset with him.