lion's roar [closed]

passive bonus: +2 to all hunting rolls

While ShadowClan slept, the cold season stormed through their territory like a badger. A layer of snow, shining innocently in the moonlight, dusted the grass and turned the camp’s muddiest sections into slush. Emberleap trudged through it to the apprentices’ den, pausing to allow himself a full-body shudder. This weather felt like a bad omen. Every creature with a whisker of sense would be underground or underwater - but Clan cats, especially those in training, did not take days off. Emberleap steeled himself and poked his head into the den. “Hey. Hey, Ospreypaw.” Navigating the sea of stray legs, tails, and nesting material, he chanced a gentle nudge to his newest apprentice’s shoulder. “It’s time to get up. Meet me at the prey pile when you’re ready, all right?”

Satisfied he’d managed to get her attention without waking up most of the den’s occupants (for once), he retreated to the aforementioned pile and, after a moment’s searching, fished a frog out of it. Since Firepaw, he’d never been the type to train on an empty stomach, at least for the first few sessions. He needed his head clear, tonight more than usual. Rude was far from the worst thing a cat could be; still, he found himself hoping that was all Ospreypaw was. He didn’t know if he could handle another Raisha. Tossing the frog’s slimy skin aside, Emberleap settled in to chew, shiver, and wait.

Lazy green eyes blinked open when a gentle nudge broke young Ospreypaw from her dream. The slightly muddled voice of what seemed to be her mentor made her ears twitch...wait. That is her mentor. If he was here, that only meant one thing, it was time for her training. Starclan help them both...

The apprentice shifted in her nest and she lifted her head just in time to watch Ember's retreating form. What did he even say? Meet him at the prey pile? Sounded like it. Osprey huffed and stretched her limbs as she slowly rose from her sleeping position. She grumbled to herself as she felt a twinge of ache coming from her upper back. It seemed that she had to get used to sleeping in the apprentice's den. Ah well. She'll shake it off.

As the she-cat stepped out of the den, she had nearly turned to go back in at the sight that greeted her. What in Starclan's name? She squinted her eyes up at the sky as if that would help her understand why her training was starting right in the middle of the night. If she remembered correctly, her mentor had told her they'd be heading off at around dusk. It appeared to her that either he had a pathetically bad memory or this was all a joke. She wasn't laughing either way. They were going out to train well into Silverpelt's territory. Maybe she should just go back to sleep...

Despite that tempting thought, the apprentice trudged on to where she'd been told to meet him. As soon as he was in her sights, she shot him an unamused look. "Apparently 'dusk' means something other than 'dusk' to you..." was the greeting she gave him once she reached his side. The dark-furred molly raised a questioning brow as she pointed to the sky with her nose, as if the source of her confusion wasn't already clear. "Didn't think you'd be taking our clan's name so seriously. We may be 'Shadowclan' but none of us are going to crumple if a little sun gets on our fur."

The molly sighed softly and plopped down near the warrior. "So, what will you have me do this fine night?"

Before he could properly consider venturing back into the apprentices’ den to make sure Ospreypaw hadn’t drifted off, a black-and-white head popped into view. Good. She was awake. Emberleap blinked, then resumed chewing at twice the speed. Ospreypaw looked as if she’d rather be in a dog’s jaws than here—to say nothing of how long she waited in the den’s entrance—but ultimately, she plodded on toward the prey pile. A point in her favor.

Her first words were a challenge. “I was hoping the weather would let up,” Emberleap said once he’d swallowed the last of the frog. It wasn’t a complete lie; though he’d opened his eyes well before dusk, the globs of snow whipping past the warriors’ den had cowed him into waiting until the howling wind died to an intermittent whistle. Considering how awful the camp still looked, he doubted it would help his case. It would take days for this snow to melt, assuming they didn’t get even more to replace it. “No point in going out if all the prey’s hiding. Besides,” he added, pushing the truth a whisker further, “I figured a little extra sleep couldn’t hurt. We’ll need to be wide awake if we want to find anything out there.”

Ospreypaw sat nearby, the sound muffled to nothing by snow. The emphasis she put on night didn’t go unnoticed; Emberleap acknowledged it with a twitch of an ear and nothing more. “You might’ve guessed already, but we’re starting with hunting. It’s the most important thing you could know right now.” He pressed his forepaws together. What she'd said at her ceremony stuck with him. He could talk to Frostgaze or Murkystar about this, tell them he was in over his head—but a warrior who couldn’t handle their own apprentice was hardly a warrior at all. No matter who Ospreypaw turned out to be, he had to make this work. For both of them. With a smile and a tail flicked toward the not-quite-bare prey pile, he offered an olive branch. “You can take something before we go, if you’d like?”