Eye of the Beholder [Sootpaw]

As promised, Swiftspirit had roused Sootpaw from his nest early the morning after his ceremony. She'd tried to wait and rouse him at a more reasonable time, as she herself was a chronically miserable insomniac who was often up much earlier than anyone else in the clan. The sun's rays were just peeking over the mountains in the distance, and her lean frame casted a long shadow as she moved. Being up so early meant that the sun would not be bearing down on them while they trained however, and this morning had been a bit cooler than most in recent weeks.

"We'll practice hunting first, and then we'll move into sparring." She mewed, leading the apprentice out of camp. Around them, the moors rolled in every direction, dewdrops beading on still mostly-green blades of grass.

"As a Windclanner, your greatest advantage is your speed. There is no cover out here, so you need to be quick on your paws. Prey will see us coming a mile away if we aren't careful, and too much strong movement in the grass will spook most rabbits back to their burrows. Staying downwind and behind your prey is important." She began to explain, scanning the moors for signs of life. Being able to watch her catch prey would help him more than a simple explanation would.

A fuzzy brown shape caught her eye, and Swiftspirit stilled. "Watch me, first." She mewed softly. With that, the pale-furred she-cat slipped into the grasses, circling behind her target. Experience had allowed her to move quietly while still retaining the speed necessary for catching rabbits, and Swiftspirit judged the distance between herself and the rabbit as she slipped closer to it. With a sudden burst of speed, Swiftspirit bounded forward. The wind shifted direction slightly and the rabbit turned. Not quite fast enough however, and Swiftspirit intercepted the creature, fangs closing around the rabbit's neck and cutting off any sound it had tried to make.

With the rabbit dangling from her jaws, Swiftspirit padded back towards Sootpaw. "Alright, I want you to try, now." She mewed, carefully burying the rabbit for retrieval later.

Sootpaw had already been awake when his mentor grabbed him, being a rather light sleeper was hard in a group full of noisy apprentices. When he had been sleeping in the nursery it had been worse. Eventually, he had taken to sleeping in a secluded corner of the camp sheltered by a bit of gorse.

It was probably going to turn out much the same as an apprentice.

The melanistic young tom remained silent as he plodded behind the light-coloured mentor, face unreadable. He hadn't spoken a word to the warrior, not even during his ceremony. Instead, he remained distant, more like a shadow than a living, breathing cat.

Idly, the solitary cat's starkly contrasting hues scanned the moors, as if searching for an enemy rather than prey. He wondered how utterly demolished Windclan would be if they were forced to fight in the forest rather than their wide-open territory. Out of all the clans, the land of Windclan was the most different, and by that logic, it'd be the hardest for them to fight in any place other than the moors.

The tom noted the theory down for the future.

As his mentor spoke, Sootpaw listened half-heartedly. The words being spoken to him were largely obvious information if one was a tad more observant than, perhaps, a slug. Sadly there were few that actually met that criteria, it seemed. The wind swept over the moors, his short pelt barely hassled by the breeze. He noted its direction as he watched his mentor hunt from afar, still not speaking a word.

The apprentice observed the rabbit that the warrior seemed to notice, eyes lidded. Sootpaw observed her form; low to the ground, lithe, tail held so it wasn't too high but wasn't too low, fast but steady. All things one could learn without help if they applied the logic needed.

She paused, he assumed it was to ready her muscles, and then burst forth. The young tom's ears twitched slightly as the wind shifted again, how annoyingly unpredictable. Still, the warrior caught the unsuspecting victim, killing it effectively, this was no surprise to the brooding apprentice.

She told him to try, but for a moment he just stared at the corpse of the hare, and the slight tracks of blood streaking down its neck and staining its tan fur. His claws flexed, hues narrowing as he watched it get buried in the soil.

Mutely he stood, turning away abruptly to scan the surroundings. He was short for his age, so it took a bit more to see through the grass. The effort was fruitless though. Pausing his mind whirred for a moment at the slight conundrum, idly it wondered how far those birds of prey that struck down unsuspecting kits could see if they could target prey from seemingly nowhere out of a feline's line of sight.

How useful it would be for him to have such vision.

Soon, he came up with a solution. Closing his eyes he scented the air, his long tail sweeping lowly behind him. It took longer than expected, but soon he caught a scent on the wind. Without a backward glance to his mentor, he padded in its direction, noting as it got stronger. Finally, after a bit of travel, he stopped, ears swivelling to make up for how unprecise scenting was. He remained downwind of his unseen prey, and his paw-steps were eerily silent perhaps a natural inborn trait.

He heard a shuffling of grass that didn't watch with the wind, and his eyes scanned for its source.

'There'.

Another brown rabbit, slightly varying in its shade. Sootpaw went still, before slowly lowering to the ground, mimicking what he observed of his mentor's tactics imperfectly, but not terribly. The rabbit's ears perked and it looked around, hearing some disturbance Sootpaw was unaware of.

The apprentice remained still, breathing lightly, ears pinned. When the rabbit lowered with its back to him, he hesitated for a moment, but forced himself through his indecision, springing forward. It perked up and almost immediately started running, Sootpaw fast on its heels.

The rabbit swerved wildly to the side and he followed, getting tunnel vision. His long tail helped him with the precise turns. They were matched in speed, trapped in a deadlock. The apprentice's eyes narrowed at the realization, he needed to go faster.

Teeth gritting he coiled his muscles on his next bound, and burst forward, just faster than the rabbit. Within a few moments, he caught up, claws unsheathing, and grappled the hare. As any animal does when it's cornered, it struck back, hind leg hitting him with a glancing blow to his chest, still, it hurt.

Despite this, he didn't let go. In a burst of aggression, he snarled, lunging forward again to get a better grip, his head darted forward, closing around the victim's throat. Eyes flashing with violence he pulled back, jaws still clamped, throat coming with it.

For a while he stayed in that position, pinning his prey, until its weakening struggles completely stopped. After a moment, he stepped back, releasing his hold on the chunk he had torn free. Blood splattered his muzzle from the messy kill, and his hues glinted with dark satisfaction as he sat back on his haunches.

He winced as his side flared, sore, and looked the affected area over. There was a slight scratch from his victim's hind claws, and he was sure it was bruised. He didn't think rabbits could inflict damage like that, he had almost let go of his quarry in surprise from the blow.

Well, he'd survive. For now, he had killed his first rabbit, it was hardly as elegant as his mentor's hunt but he had just been going off what he saw her do, not actual training. Also, the rabbit was rather large in comparison to the shorter-then average apprentice. Though, to be fair, if he hadn't been held back it would've been possible for him to be a warrior by now.

As the adrenaline wore off the soreness became more apparent, Sootpaw ignored it though, instead trying to clean off his face before it got crusted in blood. He let out a sigh though, he'd probably have to visit the medicine den, hopefully, Henpaw wouldn't be there.

His first training session came out as quite a mess, it seemed. Perhaps he should stick to marmots, mice, and shrews until he actually got used to hunting...

Swiftspirit trailed behind her apprentice at a distance, paws silent. He caught on quickly enough, keeping downwind of the rabbit they had both scented. When it came into view he darted forward. Right now he was untrained and inexperienced, and that meant he lacked the strength and lung capacity of the seasoned warriors who made a living chasing rabbits and hares across the moors. He managed the kill, messily, and Swiftspirit's eyes narrowed slightly as she caught his snarl, the flash of violence in his eyes. The rabbit lay dead however, and Swiftspirit finally approached.

"Messy, but it'll come easier with practice. So will speed and stamina." Swiftspirit murmured. "Hares will kick harder, they're stronger than most would realize and can crack a rib with one of their kicked. Be aware of your surroundings, but also your prey's movements." She nodded at the scratch he'd earned. "Are you okay to continue?"

And it was then that she scented another rabbit, and her head turned. Spotting the fuzzy shape moving in the grass, Swiftspirit slipped towards it as she had done for the first hare she'd caught earlier. She kept her tail and head low, though Windclan did not deal in the slow and steady hunter's crouch that forest-dwelling cats did There was simply too great a chance of being seen without cover, and so speed and having the wind in their favor was their best asset.

The rabbit remained unaware, and a quick burst of speed saw the lean warrior cleanly cutting off an escape that never had time to form.

Swiftspirit attempted to catch a rabbit for -3 sp. Catch was successful!
137 / 140 sp

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 8

His ear twitched as he heard his mentor approach, and he cracked open one eye, mid-lick. Most of the blood was off his face, so he lowered his paw back to the ground, not looking at the older cat and instead watched the blood flow sluggishly from his victim's wound.

She talked about it being messy, another obvious statement. He saw no issue, of course, if it was dead it was dead, it was still edible after all. Still, quick kills were his goal in hunting, and most quick kills weren't messy. The two he could think of would be the usual bite to the neck or perhaps suffocation by clamping down on their throat. If he could bite through the skull it'd be quicker, but cat jaws weren't terribly strong, and biting through bone was much harder than it'd be for, say, a bear, or maybe even a dog or badger.

She went on to say he might've cracked a rib, which made him hum. After some consideration, he took in a deep breath, stretching his lugs against his ribs. Not unexpectedly, he wasn't able to take a full breath thanks to the sharp jolt of pain that shot through his side. His conclusion was that the same reaction could come from a bad bruise, but that didn't write off the possibility of a damaged rib either.

It seemed the visit to the medicine den would be inevitable in light of this.

He let out the incomplete breath with a faint hiss of pain and glanced over at the she-cat beside him as she asked if he could continue. Heterochromia eyes narrowed as if he had taken that as an insult. Turning his gaze away he stood, tail curling behind him. Almost pointedly he padded towards his prey, digging a shallow hole and proceeding to bury it, ignoring his side's protest.

He only glanced over as he saw his mentor stalk away towards another rabbit. The amount of rabbits out was rather confusing with how leaf-fall was closing in on them. Perhaps the stories of prey getting harder to find during that time were just exaggerated.

He straightened after covering his victim with the last pawful of dirt, and sat there for a moment, trying to find prey once again. It seemed like the most common prey were rabbits and hares, he honestly expected there to be a lot of groundhogs or marmots as well, but h supposed at least the former was more often underground than not.

Idly he wondered if any cat had tried flushing them out of their burrows, or tried to figure out how to hunt them when they were under the ground. Wouldn't that be a unique hunting tactic? It would also solidify another source of food for the fresh-kill pile, which was always a good thing.

Letting out a breath he refocused on hunting.

After a moment of standing there, he scented another rabbit. His brow furrowed slightly at the smell, and for a moment he seriously considered ignoring it so he wouldn't exasperate his injury. After some hesitation, he shoved the thought away, it would take longer to find a different victim, and he was sure that this time he wouldn't get further injured other than perhaps his shallow gashes from his last prey's claws growing slightly.

If he ended up in a similar struggle to last time he'd let the prey go, after all, he already caught a hare, a large one, and his mentor was contributing quite a lot of rabbits already.

Making up his mind he trailed after the scent, keeping low to the ground with his head ducked and tail down. Like he was instructed, he kept himself downwind. Soon enough he heard shuffling. Peering between the dry grass, he caught sight of a rabbit, it was the same light brown as most wild ones but was definitely smaller than the last hare he'd caught. He could see the difference between the two now, despite confusing the identity of the one previous.

Sootpaw supposed that was his lacking experience showing.

He watched the rabbit critically, coiling his muscles, and waited for its back to turn to him at least slightly. When it did he took the opening, springing forward with his claws outstretched. Before he could stretch full-length in his arc though a lance of pain shot from his wound, making him tense up.

Landing prematurely and wincing, he hissed as the prey sprang away, and quickly chased after it. After a bit of a run-down, it tried to curve away. Getting an idea the apprentice circled it so their paths intersected, putting on the speed, and successfully tackled it from the side.

His jaws clamped around its jugular, the rabbit faltered as he slammed it onto its flank and held it there, letting it slowly bleed out. The same feeling of dark satisfaction as his victim's struggles slowly died down until its eyes glazed over was there from his last kill. Eventually, he shifted his paws back to the ground, the rabbit hanging limply from his jaws, and lifted his head.

His nose twitched as he followed his own scent back to the location of his first kill, having to take periodic half steps to try and lower the strain of tugging at his side. He likely had already widened the small gashes there.

After arriving at the mound of dirt he dropped the rabbit unceremoniously to the ground, licking his chops and cleaning his face once more. He hadn't expected to get two kills in a day, but it wasn't an unwelcome surprise. His hies shifted and he looked over his injury once again, noting that it was still bleeding. He seemed to be leaving a trail of the red droplets behind him.

Still, he didn't feel faint, and while his breathing was restricted, he had still managed to keep up with a rabbit. So, unconcerned and still impassive, he looked at his mentor. He still hadn't spoken a word to the warrior, hadn't even made a sound during his struggle with the hare beyond a few pained hisses. It was almost as if he were a ghost passing through the motions of the living.

He was tired of hunting though, so his gaze was expectant as he patiently waited for her to continue the training.






57SP

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 2

Sootpaw wordlessly began to look for more prey, and Swiftspirit watched quietly as he caught a scent, and after a moment's hesitation began to track it through the grasses. She followed, hanging a distance back so there would be no chance of an interruption on her part. Sootpaw's form was decent for an as-yet-untrained apprentice, though she wasn't just keeping an eye on him for that alone. Those gashes he'd earned earlier would require Henpaw's attention when they made it back to camp. Sootpaw hadn't complained, in fact he hadn't said a word to her, but she could tell that it was beginning to bother him. The way his leap was cut short, and the way he chased after the prey only confirmed it.

He was going to visit Henpaw, there would be other days to train, other days to spar. And those were best done without having already suffered an injury. Tawnyflare likely would've sneered at Swiftspirit in disgust for the thought, but Tawnyflare wasn't here and had abandoned the clan as much as she'd abandoned her clan.

Sootpaw was padding in her direction, and everything in his gait said that this training session was over, even though he was clearly expectant to continue training. She decided it would be best not to rub his nose in the injury that was bothering him, however.

"That catch was better... You did well today, Sootpaw. Though I think it's time we head back to camp before the heat gets too bad. Prey won't want to be out here any more than we do." And you can go see Henpaw was very much implied by her words. She would not accept an argument. "Come," She mewed, turning to collect the prey the pair had already caught. The fresh-kill pile would be well-stocked today.

Sootpaw's eyes narrowed in suspicion as his mentor declared them done for the day, turning to pick up the other prey they had caught. Her excuse was that it'd get too warm for prey to be outside soon, but the days had gotten a lot cooler recently, hardly, it was hardly the peak of summer after all.

He glanced back at his injury, then to her. It seemed much more likely that she just wanted him to get patched up and stay still so he'd heal. While logical, it still annoyed him to no end. If he were ever in battle he'd have to fight through much worse injuries than a little scratch and some bruising, this was hardly preparing him for such a situation.

Closing his eyes the melanistic tom turned his head away indifferently, tail tip twitching to betray his irritation. It was of little consequence, he might just have to train his own tolerance for pain some other way, it seemed. Seeing as how spars weren't allowed to have claw use (yet another way clans were setting up their apprentices for failure when it really mattered, in battle).

He wasn't about to let himself get killed in battle just because he couldn't handle such small injuries.

Picking up his rabbit he mutely padded after his mentor, eyes narrowed and eyes slightly pinned. He looked much like a shadow as he padded behind her in near-perfect silence. His gait was still shifted so he wouldn't strain his injury unnecessarily.

Sootpaw was no masochist, after all, he just knew that there'd most definitely be a time and place where he'd have to fight through pain and injury for survival. Despite that, he also knew that treating such injuries was also necessary for survival. Perhaps for this clan full of weaklings that seemed much too intense, for they all seemed to think that they could handle battle despite not being prepared mentally for wounds and the such.

Senior warriors have gone through fights and gotten injuries, they're more hardened, but for most that likely only happened after they had experienced the heat of battle. Now, they won't be caught by surprise in a fight when they get a gash, scratch, or bite. Unlike young warriors and apprentices who are coddled only to die in a fight because they couldn't handle an injury.

Fools, all of them.

All in all, Sootpaw was annoyed that training had ended because of an injury that wasn't life-threatening (Immediately or gradually). Still, he said nothing. He needed to make an impression of obedience, for that is what clans favoured. One's attitude was also taken into account, of course. In the end though, if one is obedient despite attitude that is all they'll care about.

He'd just have to wait for sparring another time.