son of the proud history (c)

Mentor. Teacher. Guide. Instructor. Dovetail went over all the synonyms he could think of in his head as he walked, but applying any of them to himself felt... far-fetched at best, delusional at worst. He'd never been great at talking to other cats. How was he supposed to teach one? How could he ever be for another cat what Egretswoop had been to him? Not only a mentor to teach with great skill and understand any queries, but a friend to offer support, and... a sister. She had become like a sister to him. And now she was gone. He knew she resided in the stars, and his Moonstone journey speaking with her had given him great closure. But... how could he follow up such a masterful performance? She'd been graceful and poised and dignified. He was... awkward. Awkward and close-mouthed and stubborn and overprotective. None of those were good qualities for a mentor to have. He would just have to do his best and learn as he went, but that didn't quell the rising nausea in the back of his throat.

He waited now at the entrance of camp for Redpaw to appear. He'd chosen to wear his fox pelt today; the morning was a chilly one for newleaf, with dew condensing on blades of grass and a cool breeze from the nighttime air still lingering like a damp fog around them. As the sun rose it would dispel the cold, but for now, he wouldn't mind the pelt to warm him up. In the back of his mind, though, he knew the reason wasn't the chill. He felt safer wearing the pelt, with the hood of the fox shading his eyes and its silvery fur surrounding his own. He felt not only partially hidden, as if he could be more protected from uncomfortable vulnerability, but... it felt almost as if Egretswoop were with him. Milk. The name she'd been given. And the name she bestowed upon him in turn: Iron. Perhaps if he became Iron moreso than Dovetail, he would be able to channel her strength and ability. Maybe then he'd be a good mentor, and maybe then this anxiety would leave the prickling of his spine.

Redpaw quietly shuffled forward, the hanging dew collecting at his legs. There must have been rain overnight, he reasoned, because otherwise the camp became ShadowClan overnight.

It did not take long for the ruddy tom to find his mentor. He may have been the only cat in RiverClan to wear a fox cloak.

Quiet as always, Redpaw met the eyes of Dovetail and gave a curt nod.

Well, he supposed that was encouraging. At least his apprentice wasn't a ball of nerves or--worse--actively undermining his authority from day one. Dovetail let out a low breath of mixed relief and anxiety, and nodded back to Redpaw. "Well, then. Let's get going." With a swish of his fox-pelt-covered tail, he turned to walk out into the territory, glancing behind him on occasion to make sure that the tom was following him.

They walked in silence for a good few minutes, tromping through the dewy grass as Dovetail led the way through RiverClan's lands. The sun climbed slowly higher in the sky, but still hadn't made it past the distant treetops, leaving the early morning somewhat dim and chilly. Nearby, the sound of the river grew from a quiet murmur to a far louder rushing as they approached. Once they'd reached its banks, the warrior stopped, then glanced back at Redpaw. "Our livelihood revolves around this river," he said, doing his best to keep things simple and straightforward. Acting in the capacity of mentor didn't come easy to him. He tried to cast his mind back to what Egretswoop had said when he'd gone out onto the territory for he first time. "All our hunting, our swimming--even many of our fighting techniques. But we'll just start with fishing today. It's simple enough." Dovetail jerked his head towards the river, then went to stand on the muddy shores. "Come sit by the bank. Not too close, don't fall in. I'll demonstrate and then you can copy what I do. Any questions?"