one to one (c)

The thrills that came with being an apprentice were only about half of what being an apprentice actually was. There were duties that were deemed as less exciting, such as cleaning out bedding and searching the elders for ticks. However, Graypaw didn't complain when she was put on tick duty. Would it be slightly unpleasant considering the fact that the mouse-bile had a rank scent? Absolutely. It was a necessary job, though. She padded out of the medicine den with a stick clamped tightly in her jaws, the tip covered in the bile. Its scent wafted into her nostrils, causing her to slightly scrunch her nose. She had no negativity in her mind as she made her way towards where the elders slept. In all honesty, she enjoyed their company. The eldest cats of the Clan, the ones who had seen things that Graypaw hadn't even been alive to see, were full of stories so share. At least being placed on tick duty gave her another excuse to pry tales and answers out of them.

She ducked her head ever so slightly as she entered the elders' den.
"Hello, good morning," She greeted the cats in the den quietly, speaking around the stick that was in her mouth, "I'm here on tick duty. I shouldn't take too long. I'm sure most of you wanted a morning with little disruptions. Who wants to go first?"

Nighthawk was curled in her nest, debating the merits of getting up. It was cold, and her nest was comfortable. Sprucesnow's quiet breaths plumed in the air in front of him, though the rhythmic sound of his breathing had lulled her into some semblance of relaxation, as worried as she was for him as the days became colder. They were back in camp, and that sense of normalcy was precious and dear to Nighthawk's heart.

Soft noise from the entrance to the den, and Nighthawk flicked an ear, head lifting as amber eyes sought it's source. It was far too early for some apprentice to be pestering them. Far to early for the peaceful silence to be broken.

Graypaw's form was a familiar one, and Nighthawk's gaze softened as she met her grand-daughter's eyes.

"Hello, Graypaw." Nighthawk mewed softly, carefully moving to face the apprentice while trying not to disturb Sprucesnow's slumber. She loved her family, although she'd noticed how distant Nettlefrost seemed from her daughter. Wrenspring had stepped up, and Nighthawk thought the gray and white tom was a good influence on Graypaw.

"Stuck on tick duty? I was so thrilled to become a warrior and not have to do that anymore." There was a glint of amusement in her eyes, though her tone was also sympathetic. Mouse-bile was indeed rank, though it did get the job done.

"How's training going?" She asked, carefully settling herself where the apprentice could work and not disturb Sprucesnow. Her movements were a bit stiffer than usual, and the small tabby flinched slightly as her scarred flank protested her naturally quick movements. Her side always felt worse in the colder moons, the broken flesh and once-broken ribs just as unhappy at the chill as most cats were.

The apprentice decided to start with Nighthawk. A small smile appeared on her white maw despite the scent of mouse bile that still lingered in the area.
"Yes, but at least it gives me a quick break from training. It can be tiring, especially battle practice." The she-cat shrugged as she settled down beside the elder.
Graypaw made sure to waste no time as she used her forepaws to spread Nighthawk's fur and tilted her head to apply the necessary amount of mouse-bile wherever she could see a tick. Holding a conversation like this certainly wasn't ideal, but speaking around the stick wasn't that difficult.

"Training?" She took a moment to silently recall what she had learned from her sessions with Primroselight, "It's a lot better than I thought it would be when I was a kit. Primroselight is a really great mentor. Being blind and teaching a cat how to hunt and fight must be so difficult... I admire her a lot."
It was true. Graypaw did admire her mentor. She didn't look up to that many cats, it was really just Wrenspring, Primoselight, and Nighthawk. Her mother had decided to prioritize the life of a warrior over the life of a queen, but the apprentice didn't find that to be admirable in the slightest. In fact, she found it to be cowardly, and Graypaw hated cowards.

"I've gotten the hang of the hunting crouch and I think I get better at fighting everyday. I'm sure there are still some things I could work on, though." She concluded before wincing as the stick almost slipped out of her mouth.

"True." She murmured, "If your mentor is anything like her mother, she'll run you ragged. You younger cats never seem to sit still for long." Her whiskers twitched in amusement, however, the admonishing tone was not particularly serious. In truth, Nighthawk did miss being a warrior, she missed always having something to do, but her rest had been well-earned. The gray hairs on her muzzle had only increased in number since then, and she knew full well that she didn't have the strength or endurance to keep up with many of the younger cats.

Nighthawk offered the young cat a small smile. "Primroselight is far tougher than she appears on the surface. I have no doubt she'll train you well. She's resourceful, and you'll learn a lot from her." She was tenacious, from what Nighthawk knew, and determined. She was happy that her granddaughter had been given a reliable warrior as her mentor. Primroselight was young, but Nighthawk knew she was capable. Graypaw was in good paws.

Graypaw narrowed her eyes a bit in order to ensure that she wasn't missing any smaller ticks.
"I don't mind sitting still." She confessed after gently pressing the tip of the bile-covered stick in another area, "Sometimes it's better to think instead of move."
There would be a time when Graypaw would be out in the forest, training another cat that would be taking her place in the apprentices' den. She hoped to instill her own values in her future apprentice. For now, she knew that she still had a lot to learn about herself. There was no shame in being excited to teach someone else, though. That was enough thinking about her, though. Graypaw wanted to know more about Nighthawk.

"What was your mentor like when you were an apprentice?" She queried.
She returned her grandmother's small smile with one of her own. Well, she smiled as much as she could around the stick.
"They must've been pretty good. They trained you after all, and from what I've heard, you were a really great warrior."

Ahh, so she'd come for a story as well as her duties. Nighthawk smiled, warmed by the thought. It seemed like not many of the apprentices or younger warriors these days cared to hear the ramblings of an elder. Graypaw was a ray of hope in such trying times. She asked, and Nighthawk would oblige. It was good to have at least one of the younger generation be interested in the stories of what came before.

"My mentor," Nighthawk began, "was a warrior called Stoneshard. He was about as blunt as a stone to the face, so the name was fitting." For all her snark, the respect Nighthawk had for the now long-dead warrior was clear.

"He was one of the most patient cats I've ever known. The other 'paws and I could get into so much trouble, and things were seldom peaceful back then, but I can't recall him ever losing his temper or lashing out in anger at a clanmate even once." And stars knew Stoneshard had had plenty of reason to become frustrated at times. It was as if whatever vexed him simply became irrelevant, such was his focus.

"He was a brilliant fighter despite that, or maybe because of it. He never seemed to let a battle get to his head, never seemed to panic, even when fighting foes larger than him or fighting multiple foes." His control was something Nighthawk could only dream of having, truly. She'd had a quick temper in her youth, and later on, when she'd become a warrior and as loss after loss piled up, her own anxiety had been at it's highest. If Stoneshard had ever been terrified of the mist, of the dogs, of the strangers they had shared their camp with, he'd never once let on to her.

Graypaw continued to work while keeping her ears alert to listen to Nighthawk. From the sound of it, Stoneshard had been a cat worth respecting. SkyClan was full of excellent warriors from both the past and the present, and she aspired to be apart of the excellent warriors of the future. Nighthawk's mentor sounded like he was level-headed and intelligent, which was what the apprentice aimed to be. Her train of thought switched from her future to the present. As an apprentice now, her life consisted of back to back training sessions, patrols, and additional apprentice duties. She had never found herself getting into any careless trouble with her denmates. Some of the older warriors may have considered that to be a necessity of apprenticehood, but Graypaw figured that she'd much rather focus on what was important.

What was important, though? Surely that answer would differ since every cat had their own priorities. Graypaw could name all of her denmates, but it was impossible for her to recall any memories with them. She couldn't help but blink in slight confusion. It had never once bothered her that she barely had a bond with the other apprentices, but today, something in heart was convincing her otherwise. It would be for the best if she simply shrugged it off and moved on. At the end of the day, what mattered the most was who knew the most effective battle techniques and who could hunt without scaring the prey.

"It almost makes me wish Stoneshard was alive today. It would've been nice to meet him," Graypaw finally said, "I'm glad I was born in SkyClan. I'm convinced that we have the best warriors in the entire forest. It honestly gives me a goal to work towards... I want to become a warrior that the Clan can be proud of, too."

Nighthawk's smile turned wistful. Her mentor's death had come along with the deaths of her parents, where dogs had torn apart three leaders and many clanmates in rapid succession. Her mentor had been a brilliant warrior, but sometimes it felt as if Nighthawk had been the only one to truly mourn his death. For all his level-headedness, for all that he'd been the best mentor she could have asked for, he hadn't been close with many of his clanmates. He'd been quiet and distant until his last.

Graypaw's voice pulled the elder from her reverie, which was just as well.

"I would be a terrible elder if I didn't think my clan was superior to the others. You and the other apprentices are all smart and have bright futures ahead of you." They were less bratty than the last crop of apprentices, that was certain. Most of them had respectable mentors, and having a good mentor was half of what led to a good warrior, Nighthawk believed. The other half was up to the apprentice; their determination, their morals, their strength.