leave these olives uneaten! [closed]

What a dreadfully muggy day. Though clouds covered the sky and thus the sun did not burn a hole in their pelts, this thickness in the air weighed down Harebounce’s pawsteps. The warrior stretched in the middle of a stride, flexing her back underneath her pelt. The thing had seen better days for sure. Flecked with holes and tears, not to mention how difficult it was getting to keep clean. It was partially the reason why the tortoiseshell had brought Olivepaw out into this drier part of the territory; perhaps they’d come across a replacement among the land-loving prey. Maybe Olivepaw would want one as well! Making pelts was so much fun when it was for someone else. But really, light-hearted though she may be, this Greenleaf was unbearable! The air was even more humid near the water, to the point where her pawpads were sticky with unevaporated sweat. So screw it, they were training where the wind would blow every once in a while.

Finally, they’d reached the promised land of beeches. “This is much better!” She took in a deep breath as a short-lived breeze passed her muzzle. Better than no breeze at all. “It’ll be a lot easier to find land prey here now that we can smell them properly.” She tapped Olivepaw’s nose with her fluffy tail-tip. ‘And please, let the foxes and geese stay far, far away!’ If they found one today, Harebounce couldn’t help but wonder if poor Poppyshine and Perchstar would have a mental breakdown. She was no medicine cat, but at this point the number of attacks was starting to feel like a heavy-pawed sign from StarClan about… something? They needed to speak more clearly if they had something to say.

Olivepaw’s stride was quick and graceful as her paws would allow, chin and tail both held high with all the confidence the little she-cat could present. Admittedly, she hadn’t been entirely happy with her mentor assignement- Harebounce always wore a pelt on her back, and as the moons drug by, it grew tattered, worn, and… was that smell coming from the pelt, too? Surely not… It was unconventional, to say the least, and Olivepaw spent a significant amount of time ensuring that she was behaving as close to normal as she possibly could. Wearing a pelt certainly didn’t fit that description.

Alas, there was absolutely nothing the poor molly could do about it, so she elected to ignore it. After all, if she couldn’t do anything about it, she ought not to het her whiskers in a twist, right? It did still bother her, but as they walked toward the beech trees, she found her mind wandering. Her pelt was no longer quite as heavy feeling, a slight cool breeze rustling her fur. Looking to Harebounce when they finally arrived, she mewed, ”I’ve never actually caught land prey before.” Harebounce hadn’t taught her yet, just fish. This would be… Interesting.