[Fawn]

Granitepaw

So his burdensome self had been passed onto Hailstrike, had he? Great. Not that it mattered much, she'd probably end up betraying him or something equally as cold-hearted in the end anyway. Granitepaw had learned not to expect too much from anyone anymore; he would just keep walking along on his own path, avoiding the paths of others and not allowing anyone else to walk alongside him.
The short-furred gray apprentice stepped out of the apprentices' den, making no attempt to find the brown-spotted she-cat with the icy blue eyes, his own cold stare directed at the fresh kill pile instead. Why can't I just train myself? He inwardly mused, his attitude already cold and unapproachable, even though he'd been up for scarcely half an hour. Honestly speaking, Granitepaw was the type of tom who'd rather struggle and struggle alone through life than under the watchful eyes of a mentor he couldn't trust in a Clan he wouldn't break his back for. The damage done by Shadeclaw to the young cat's psyche was still very much present, and it folded the young cat's ears back as though he were an elder feeling the stiffness of old age and the cold breath of death creeping along the back of his neck.

Granitepaw picked out a small finch from the pile and settled down to eat, as silent as stone.

[Phoenix]

The fully sun had risen by the time Hailstrike returned to camp, and the rest of the world was now awake. She strode in at a brisk pace, irritation obvious in her sharp movements. Her mouth held a single, incredibly poor excuse of a mouse; the thing was skin and bones. She expected far better of herself, especially after hunting since dawn. A slight loosening of her lower jaw and the mouse tumbled onto the pile. The warrior stood over her catch, glaring down at it in disgust. Up since dawn, and all she had caught was that? It was pathetic.

Icy eyes left the mouse and stared around camp, still narrowed. Really, after that poor performance, she should go back out and hunt until she caught something worthwhile. Yes, I think I will. As she turned to retrace her steps, a figure caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Turning back, she recognized the young cat as her apprentice, Granitepaw. Look who decided to join the land of the living. Abruptly, Hailstrike changed her direction, altering her path so that it would take her to the younger tom instead of to the exit. If she was going to hunt, the apprentice might as well join her; practice made perfect, after all, and it would give her a chance to correct any faults Shadeclaw had taught him.

Shadeclaw. That lying, traitorous, mouse-brained, snake-hearted pile of foxdung had never come within reach of her claws if he wanted to escape unscathed. Her blood boiled just thinking about his actions. And so, when she reached the unassuming figure of Granitepaw, Hailstrike was in a very bad mood.

"Up," She meowed sharply in greeting, tail flicking. She was all business; mentors who were soft and easy made nothing but weak and emotional cats. "Finish the finch quickly, then we're going hunting. You're an able-bodied young tom, and there's no reason why you should spend any more days moping around in camp like a sickly elder." Had being pleasant to him crossed her mind, especially after Shadeclaw? Only for an instant. She, too, knew what it was like to lose a mentor, though perhaps not to something as painful as a different clan. Pity was the last thing anyone wanted.

OOC: I'm assuming this is at the beginning of her mentoring him?

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

Granitepaw nearly choked on his finch at the abrupt orders of his new mentor, the young tom quickly recovering, his eyes roving to the corners to glance at her in silent acknowledgment. He wasn't the kind of cat to talk with his mouthful. Taking another bite, the bird felt tasteless and heavy against his tongue, his general mood steadily plateauing into indifference. He swallowed another tasteless piece of finch; he could already tell this was going to be a very difficult apprenticeship. Hailstrike, like her name, came off as an abrupt creature who created an impact or even startled others whenever she walked into a room. Because of her busy nature, she was around only as long as necessary, never idling by or wasting any time on silly things like relaxation or moping.

Granitepaw at last gave the she-cat his full attention, pink tongue swirling his jaw to clear away any remnants of the bird, his yellowish-green eyes fixed on the wild face of his mentor. Obviously waiting for the she-cat to take the lead, Granitepaw's ears rotated out of instinct to catch the sound of others coming to and from camp, though he wasn't exactly listening to their conversation. Inwardly, the tom was just a bit worried. He had spent half a month in and out of the medicine cat's den for the gash he'd received on his leg that day, and honestly hadn't hunted in earnest in...a while. Though he was likely to disappoint Hailstrike anyway, regardless of what he said or did, the fact that he hadn't even bothered to practice or keep up with his skills did nothing to boost the tom's self esteem.

OOC: :] yes, you would be correct! This is at the very beginning stages of their mentor/apprentice relationship.

[Phoenix]

She stood by her apprentice as he snapped up the last bites of his food. Blue eyes had begun to roam around camp again, lingering on the playing kits and the elders sunbathing. When the sound of chewing stopped, Hailstrike turned back to Granitepaw, who, as it appeared, was not going to grace her with a verbal response. It was just as well, for she was not one for small talk. However, he appeared as though he was waiting for her to lead. While that would be the case sometimes, there was no reason why he could not make a rather important decision about hunting. Hailstrike studied him, for a moment, then abruptly asked, "What do we look for in a hunting place? Keeping that in mind, where should we go to hunt?"

Hunting crouches were all very good and important, but finding the right hunting place was of equal importance. Prey could always be found near water, for example, but Hailstrike believed that they were more sensitive to predators. At the same time, every hunting spot in StoneClan's territory had its pros and cons; it was just the matter of weighing them and figuring out which one had the least or easiest cons to overcome. Her mind churned. They could very easily branch off into this strategic part of hunting; the crouches could wait for another day. She considered it. How much of this did Granitepaw know? His answer would tell her, and she could continue as she saw felt.

At the very least, it would get him moving and working his leg; no, she had not forgotten about that. Her own, ironically the same leg, still caused her grief, even after so many moons. Once a cat started walking again, she needed to keep walking and moving in order to regain the muscle and strength that she had lost while laying around Crowfang's den. And the best way to do that was move.

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

He considered her question seriously, and for the first time in weeks, Granitepaw's mind stretched out beyond the safety of the StoneClan camp and into rocky scrublands and sandy hills that was unique to their territory. Where to start hunting? Granitepaw debated saying 'where there's prey', as he was certain that kind of answer would get him a clobbering around the ears he didn't want or need.

So he actually tried. It was nice to have something to focus on that wasn't dismal. Though he was still in a rather robotic state of existence, at least now he wasn't - as Hailstrike put it - moping.
"The scrublands," he replied, and flashes of training alongside Shadeclaw quickly soured his expression, eyes hardening. Still, he answered her question as well as he could; "the plateau too. The lizards and snakes like the warm rocks." Because of the cooler weather than it had been a moon ago, would it the lizards and snakes be out trying to soak up the last bits of sun? Or would they be scuttling or slithering around the scrublands instead? Shadeclaw had, on occasion, taken him to the moss meadow to hunt, and that had sharpened his precision and improved his footwork, considering he had to make sure he didn't crush any herbs or moss for bedding while he caught food for the Clan.

If he was being honest though, he didn't want to go anywhere that could possibly still have Shadeclaw's scent. It had been moons since the tom had padded through the territory, Granitepaw knew that, but he was still...afraid of having to confront what had Shadeclaw had done to him.

[Phoenix]

It pleased Hailstrike to see that the tom was seriously considering her question, probably using his analytical mind for the first time in a moon. StarClan knew that no cat ever needed it while sitting around in camp; look at the clan's elders, for example. Though she respected them for their past deeds, their minds appeared to deteriorate until all they knew how to do was complain and demand, thus providing mentors with an unusual torture device. If Granitepaw proved to be too troublesome... She brushed the thought from her mind. It hadn't happened yet, so she would not worry about it. Yet.

In the silence that followed, she took the time to study her young apprentice. Granitepaw was neither large nor small, but thin and lithe, which he could use to his advantage. Hailstrike could imagine that he would have good foot work and agility, which would come in handy both in battle and while hunting. If he didn't, then it would be something else to work on; she already planned to brush up on some things anyway, since he had spent the last moon or so sleeping around camp. She noted his tan fur as well; it blended in well with the rocks in StoneClan's territory and would provide him with a great advantage in hunting.

Hailstrike flicked an ear as he began to answer, still sounding slightly hesitant, though his confidence seemed to grow. His answers were good; they made sense. The scrublands, while they provided shelter for rodents and sunning places for reptiles, also gave them cover; a good hunter would use that to her advantage. And the plateau would certainly be appealing to lizards wanting to get the last rays of sun like he said, but that was a flat area, with no cover. It was also frequently visited.

Flicking her tail for him to follow, Hailstrike started to make her way to the entrance of camp. Without looking back at her apprentice, she started meowing, "Both are solid answers, but which one is the better hunting place?" The warrior paused for a moment, then answered her own question, "I believe that we should head for the scrublands today. The plateau is indeed flat and always warmed by the sun, but it is midday. Ringtail and Fawnchaser are probably training your denmates there, improving battle skills that they will no doubt need in the future. If they are already there, they will have scared away any prey with their pouncing around. If they aren't, then the size of the area must be taken into account. It is a rather small part of the territory, and it is visited frequently. We must give our prey some credit; they will not return as readily to a place inhabited by predators." Her tone was business-like, and she stopped at the entrance to the camp. This time, she turned, pinning Granitepaw with an icy blue stare.

"Does that make sense?" Her reasoning was logical, in her opinion. If it didn't, then she would have to admit that her apprentice was mousebrained. And she did not want to teach a mousebrained apprentice. This was common sense, and it was called that for a reason. It made sense. She flicked her tail toward the territory. "To the scrublands. Lead the way."

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

Her words made perfect sense to him; Granitepaw was, if nothing else, a quick-learner, possessing an analytical mind rather than an imaginative one. Though his self-confidence and trust in others was admittedly very low, he was by no means a mousebrain. Granitepaw nodded, ears set forward to show she had his full attention. "Yes." He mewed. Even if this wasn't likely to be a very fun apprenticeship, and it might even end in some sort of betrayal like before, Granitepaw couldn't consciously do poorly because he was still agonized by Shadeclaw. Hailstrike didn't deserve that of him, and it wasn't in his nature to perform poorly just because he didn't think it was worth putting in the effort.

When Hailstrike indicated that he should take over and lead them to the scrublands, Granitepaw surged ahead, silently wondering if he should've warmed up and stretched good-and-proper back at the camp before he'd had that finch. He would be useless with a stiff leg, but aside from the occasional warning twinge, Granitepaw appeared to have healed over just fine. Leading the way out of the camp, the young hunter felt the scents of StoneClan territory all tickle the scent glands on the roof of his mouth, Granitepaw feeling a strange sense of...animation now that he was back in their territory for the first time in half a moon.
He hadn't realized how much he missed it.

OOC: You can have them arrive at the scrublands in your next post if you want.

[Phoenix]

A very small, inaudible breath escaped her, one Hailstrike had not even known she'd been holding. Granitepaw understood. She did not have a hopeless case for an apprentice. Good, She thought, dipping her head in a very slight nod. Now, if he continued putting in the effort-- Her thought was interrupted as her apprentice started off. It appeared they would get along quite nicely.

With long strides, Hailstrike caught up to him and they walked in silence. Beside her even stride, his seemed slightly stiff at first. However, it sooned evened out, as she hoped it would, into a more natural stride. His wound appeared to have healed over just fine. Slowly, subtley, she quickened her pace slightly, wanting to test his leg a little. Of course, she would not bring out a full out run; not only would that scare away any prey with their noise, but Hailstrike thought that it was still rather early for that. He had, after all, just left camp.

Letting her thoughts of Granitepaw fade to the back of her mind, she took a look at their surroundings. With a frown, she realized that they were retracing her steps from earlier this morning. Well that would not do. Catching her apprentice's attention with a touch on the shoulder, she meowed, "This way," and turned to the right, curving away from the path they had been following. It was a fairly short walk this way, among the undergrowth and scattered stones and pebbles that made up StoneClan's territory. And soon enough, they arrived.

Hailstrike stopped and looked around. It would do. Gesturing for Granitepaw to stay put for a moment, she walked over to a decent sized stone, resting in the shadow of a larger one. With a paw, she rolled the rock into the light, moving it a safe distance away from any rocks that could pose a danger. Then she walked back to her apprentice. "That stone is a mouse," She stated, her face void of any smile. "Stalk it. Catch it. Kill it. Sheathed claws." A pale tail flicked at the rock, which was a decent distance away. Hailstrike was not about to send an unpracticed apprentice after any real mice.

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

He had been so intent upon leading the way that if not for her tap to the shoulder, he wouldn't have noticed her changing directions. Following quickly, Granitepaw didn't go out of his way to test or strain his leg too much, but he was pleased with the overall progress - nothing hurt when he moved it, and it could carry his full weight as it should.
When they arrived at the scrublands, Granitepaw waited, watching as Hailstrike picked out a stone, rolled it into the light, and ordered him to attack it.
Just like that? He wanted to mew. He found this kind of imaginary mouse-catching to be...well, childish. Was she doing it to make fun of him? Granitepaw turned his large yellowish-green eyes upon his mentor, hesitating. No, he decided after a minute, no she just wants to see how rusty my skills are.

Feeling a little bit awkward, Granitepaw summoned up his resolve and stepped forward in a crouch, the litheness of his body accented best when he was in a hunting position, his whole body rigidly still, yet capable of very fluid motion. Granitepaw had never been the imaginative type, so picturing the stone as a mouse was proving troublesome for his analytical black&white mind-set, but he gave it his best. Haunches wriggling, the gray and tan tom sprang forward, his claws sheathed as she'd insisted, but the time spent ignoring a certain leg had caught up with him, and his back leg snagged against the ground, disrupting the whole motion. Granitepaw's nose smacked right into the stone, and he let out a startled growl of surprise, "OUCH!"
Rolling to the side, Granitepaw swatted the stone hard enough that, had it been a mouse, he surely would've stunned it. Disgruntled, Granitepaw even went far enough to mimic the killing bite, open muzzle darting forward to touch the tip of his fang with the cool stone. Humiliated as well as in slight pain, Granitepaw sat up, tail lashing.

[Phoenix]

Well, that was unexpected, was the first thought that crossed her mind at the outcome of the little exercise. Though perhaps it should not have been. Just because that leg had been holding up for this long did not mean that it could go forever. I should have thought that putting that much stress on it might result in something undesireable. She tucked that piece of information away in her mind, but sternly told herself to not let it have that much hold on her. An injured leg would not regain its strength if it was ignored and coddled the whole time.

However, she did keep a straight face as Granitepaw righted again, embarassment obvious in his posture. Giving him a moment to compose himself, Hailstrike glanced away from him, eyes finding the stone that had rolled a little ways away with the strength of his bat. That would definitely have injured a mouse. Looking back at her apprentice, she briefly mentioned something about his leg, that perhaps she should have added before, "I do not plan to go easy on you because of your leg, as I am sure you have realized. However, if you feel that continuing training at any point is detrimental to your health, then tell me to stop." She paused slightly, before continuing, "I don't care if it wounds your pride. It is better for you in the long-term to not overwork your leg." Slightly hypocritical of her, sure, since she would never admit to a weakness; however, no cat knew her well enough to point that out. And even if one did, she would ignore them. The situation was different; she felt responsible for Granitepaw's general well-being while he was her apprentice, as every half-way decent mentor would.

She nodded once, then changed the subject. "As for your crouch," Hailstrike meowed, "It was very good, especially for a cat who has not hunted for the past moon. Just remember to keep your weight evenly distributed and minimize your movement, though you did well keeping still. Keep low to the ground and keep your muscles loose." The warrior noted that she had gone from critiquing his crouch to covering the general basics of one, but a little review could not hurt. He had moved rather fluidly, and Granitepaw definitely showed promise in hunting. "The improvisation at the end was good as well; hunting situations vary and some creativity may be necessary. Had your leg not given out, it would have been a good catch."

The she-cat paused, considering her next course of action. Part of her wanted to ask and make sure that Granitepaw's leg would not give out on him again, if only to try and avoid anymore embarrassing situations like that. However, she ignored that thought in an instant; not only would she wound his pride, he probably would not give her a straight answer anyway. She certainly would not have had. It was a good chance for him to learn his limits anyway; if he collasped, then he could learn them the hard way. I do not know how much his body can handle, Hailstrike thought decisively, Only he does, and it's up to him to tell me. Otherwise I will simply learn through observation.

Satisfied with that decision, Hailstrike addressed her apprentice again, "I'm going to move the rock to a different position - yes, you can watch, since there is no scent - and I want to see how you will catch it. It's still a mouse." Tail flicking, she made her way to the rock, before rolling it easily behind one of the nearby rocks, so that it sat almost under it. "This is your situation. You are downwind of the mouse, so it cannot smell you; however, it can hear you and your footsteps. It's behind this rock, hiding under it in fact. Your claws don't have to remain sheathed." It was the same exercise she had given him before, but it would give her another chance to see his crouch. And him another chance to work his leg.

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

No babying, no room for error, no pity parties.
Granitepaw didn't know it yet, but Hailstrike might've been the ideal mentor for a cat as emotionally damaged as he was. Listening attentively, he absorbed her compliments like he absorbed her explanations, treating them as something to take to heart and store in the back of his brain for later. Determined to do better this time - even when the exercise had gotten a little harder - Granitepaw stretched out his previously injured leg, working out any kinks or stiffness before he watched, studying the she-cat's every move as she moved the rock someplace else.

With her instructions flowing into his ears, Granitepaw slunk towards the 'mouse' with much more ease of movement and sense of coordination. Even if it was a fake rock, he felt as though every fiber of his being had been charged with static electricity, body bunching as he shifted just to the left of the mouse-rock, not wanting to come at it straight-on. What had he been doing all this time, Slacking off back at camp! Had he forgotten what it felt like to catch his own prey, to feel satisfied that he'd contributed to the Clan and could now fill his belly with the fruits of his labor? Granitepaw was ashamed to admit it, but he had. He also hadn't realized how much he'd missed the feeling of having a successful hunt.
Clearing his head of all thought, Granitepaw focused on action, instinct coming back to him as he listened for an imaginary heartbeat, and every step was careful and silent, consciously aware of the mouse's ability to feel any misstep or hear any slip of his paw against the tough scrublands.

At last the apprentice sprang, kicking off with his back legs, claws unsheathed as he swiped the rock out from underneath the larger one with his right paw, smacking his left paw down on top of it the second it was free. Following through with the scenario, Granitepaw delivered a kill-bite, and awkwardly carried the stone back to Hailstrike, dropping it at her feet. Stealing an awkward glance at the she-cat, his chest expanding with pride, he silently checked to see if she had approved, even going as far as to mew; "That was...alright?"
He couldn't be too optimistic, after all.

[Phoenix]

This time, when he moved, Granitepaw looked like a warrior. Though she was loathe to admit it, Sharpclaw had taught him well for the few moons that he'd had him. His movements had been more fluid, instead of stiff and upright. He had taken his time, instead of rushing, which was something Hailstrike had not mentioned; however she was pleased to see that he was able to think for himself at times. Not rushing could make the difference between a success and a failure. His steps had quieted a little, and his weight distribution had evened out some. All in all, it appeared that he had taken her advice into account. Of course, she could not say all of that, lest he become over-confident. Though this run had been better, Granitepaw still had room for improvement, and he would not push himself if he thought that he had perfected the action.

Hailstrike waited, tail flicking, as her apprentice carried the rock back to her. Icy blue eyes studied him for a moment. She could see the pride in his eyes and posture, even though his mew seemed hesitant and meek enough. Remembering how eager she had been for praise, Hailstrike nodded, head dipping slightly. "Better," She answered simply, eyes on his. "Much better. You took your time on this hunt, and it made all the difference. Remember that." Eyes left his and moved down to the rock at her paws. After contemplating it for a moment, she addressed Granitepaw, pinning him with her gaze again, "How about we go test yourself against actual mice? Of course, we may run into other prey; there's no use letting good prey go to waste, so do your best. Remember to step quietly, stay downwind and take your time. Follow me."

Stepping over the rock, she moved away from the area, knowing that any smart prey would have hid with all the talking and pouncing they had done. She scented the wind, and caught a mouse's scent. That meant that she was close enough. Hailstrike drew to a stop, and her eyes found Granitepaw again. Out of the corner of her mouth, she instructed, "Find it. Kill it."

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

Granitepaw too had caught the fresh scent of a mouse, and it tickled his scent glands and made his mouth water with anticipation, the gray and tan-furred warrior-in-training giving a stiff nod as he padded forward to carry out her instructions. Find it, kill it. Step lightly, stay downwind, take my time. He could do all of that, right? Granitepaw was subconsciously aware of how different Hailstrike's instructions were from Shadeclaw's. His insidious mentor had trained him very differently - he trained him to be quick about things, to never waste time and never come home empty pawed. As such, Granitepaw's reflexes were excellent, though he did have a problem with rushing, and it was many a hunting-trip where he found himself luckily catching his prey only because he'd been fast enough to flip it into the air, stun it and kill it. Shadeclaw would always count back from 100 hundred, and if he hadn't caught anything by then, Granitepaw would have to practice his crouching and his sprinting for at least half an hour. It was tiresome but effective, and with Granitepaw's desire to please and stay in his mentor's good favor, he was always a hardworker.

Hailstrike had a very different approach. Her techniques weren't unreasonable, and she seemed to be taking his injury into account, which was nice. Shadeclaw would've just told him to suck it up...

Stop focusing on their differences and just hunt that mouse already! A voice inside his head yowled, and Granitepaw slunk into the underbrush, making sure to be mindful of his footwork and the direction the wind was blowing, the spry gray tom concentrating the hardest on taking his time. He didn't want to hesitate too much and miss his chance, but he didn't want to pounce too early and mess the whole thing up.
At last he saw it! A blur of brown just up ahead, the mouse scuttling out of the entrance of it's den, Granitepaw able to hear the sound of it's little heart beating as it sniffed out a source of food.
Wait. Wait. Get the timing right.
Though his mind was telling him to stay still, Granitepaw's body gave a lurch, but he caught himself just as the mouse froze - and neither prey nor predator seemed to be breathing, each one holding their breath and hoping they hadn't been discovered by each other.

The mouse went back to seaching for food.

Granitepaw resisted the urge to sigh with relief, waited an additional ten seconds, and then, gathering strength without unevenly distributing his weight, the tom sprang. Coming down hard on the mouse, Granitepaw flipped it up into the air, stunning it as it hit the ground, and he trapped it between his paws, neck extending, mouth open to deliver a quick killing bite to the back of the mouse's neck, the blood still roaring in his ears all the while.
"HA!" He snorted, before reality set in and he realized he may or may not've alerted to the whole area that he was nearby - whoops. Granitepaw wasn't normally so outspoken, but the triumph of not following Shadeclaw's usual instructions and having still been able to catch a mouse had welled up inside him like water into a balloon, and it burst from his chest at the last possible moment, his call loud but not overly so.

[Phoenix]

As Granitepaw moved forward, Hailstrike crouched down, low to the ground, so that her apperance was less obvious. Later, she was infintely glad that she had had that foresight. Making sure that she stayed downwind, the warrior watched as her apprentice hunted the mouse. An ear flicked as he hesitated for a while, seeming to consider something, before moving toward the undergrowth. Like she had reminded him, his steps were fairly light and he resembled a warrior, a powerful, competent predator. Perhaps she should focus on other prey next, since mice were not the only food, or fighting. Granitepaw appeared to have remembered how to hunt mice, and the only thing that she could do in this area was have him practice it.

The sound of a pattering of footsteps made Hailstrike's ear flick, and she brought her wandering thoughts back to the present. Ahead of her, Granitepaw watched the mouse, and she could see the way his muscles tensed, coiled and ready to lash out like a snake. He almost did so, too, lurching forward. Hailstrike barely stopped the sharp breath that she wanted to draw in. Unsurprisingly, the mouse noticed movement, even if it was cut off, and looked around. Hailstrike froze, as did her apprentice, she noticed. Once the mouse went back to its search for food, she wondered what that was all about. Replaying the action in her head, she had seen no sign that the motion would lead to an attack. It appeared as though he had just.. . moved.

But Granitepaw took his time now. Silently, she watched as he waited, taking his time, now extra cautious. He could not fool the mouse two times. The execution of the attack was good, and soon the mouse was dead. Hailstrike started rising to her full height, but froze as something attacked her ears. The sound seemed loud and victorious, and even if she had not seen Granitepaw's mouth move, she would have known it was him. Hailstrike's mind raced, simulataneously trying to quell the irritation rising in her gut and judging the strength of his call and how far it may have travelled. To her ears, which had become accustomed to the silence of the hunt, it had seemed very loud, the warrior decided, but perhaps it did not do as much damage as she feared.

Hailstrike moved closer to Granitepaw, which allowed her to lower her voice when talking to him. "Well done," She congratulated him on his catch. "Your form was good, and you appear to have retained some of your initial training. However, it was lucky that the mouse decided to ignore its instincts, but you realized that you had one chance to get it right, which you did." An ear flicked, and she address his cry in the same voice she had the other subjects, "I had hoped that I would not have to remind you of this, but this is your first kill in a few moons, so perhaps I expected too much. Silence, or near silence, even after prey is caught, is necessary if one hopes to catch something else without having to move. Pride in your success and catch is good, and you can express it back at camp. But not here, not when food is on the line." Hailstrike paused meaningfully, knowing that she had gotten her point across.

Giving him a moment to store that information away and let the full impact of her words hit him, Hailstrike scented the air again and looked around. The smells of various prey still lingered, so they might as well turn this into a hunting patrol of sorts. It would give him a chance to hone and practice his skills, and her a chance to make up for her horrible hunting earlier. Eyes flicked to the mouse at his paws. "Bury that some place where you'll remember it," She instructed. "It would be beneficial if we continued to hunt. This time, I will hunt as well, and we will bring what prey we can back to StoneClan. We will spread out, but do not stray too far; I don't want to track down my missing apprentice. Do you have any questions before we go?"

[Fawn]

Granitepaw

His stomach lurched at his own stupidity. Gah, mouse-brain! Why couldn't you keep your mouth shut just this once? Perhaps it was because he'd practically gone a whole moon and a half without feeling anything positive at all - only pain from his leg, pain from Shadeclaw, and the painful acceptance that he hadn't meant anything to his mentor at all, at least he hadn't mattered enough for the warrior to come save him.
"No, and sorry," he mewed, when she asked if he had any more questions, the apprentice taking that window to properly apologize. "I'll keep quiet," Granitepaw promised. Determined to make up for that little unnecessary fumble, the stone-furred warrior-to-be inwardly vowed to snag himself a squirrel or a nice fat thrush to compensate for earlier.

Granitepaw stepped just past his mentor, indicating with a nod of his head the direction he was heading in - which was just to further parts of the scrublands, but Granitepaw was itching to head near the Little Woods. It was where Shadeclaw always had him hunt - yes it was alarmingly close to RainClan's border, but there were plenty of squirrels and the occasional bird to be found. The gray apprentice gave his head a little shake; old habits died hard, but he was determined to help them along, and tried to clear his thoughts of the Little Woods and of Shadeclaw. It agonized him to no end to know that his old mentor still had this much of an effect on him.
Just don't think about that traitor. Think about how good it's going to feel when you're a warrior and ripping his pelt off. Mutiny at his heart, Granitepaw set off.