|
Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2013 19:39:25 GMT -5
G O O S E W I N G The half-tabby warrior made her way through the soaked Rain Clan territory carefully. She didn’t mind the muddy floodwater nearly as much as her sister, but it was still snow-cold, and the last thing Goosewing needed was to get sick again. During leaf-bare, she came down with her usual case of greencough, and had ended up in the Medicine Cat’s den for a full moon. A full moon away from her warrior duties, including training her apprentice. Her first apprentice since Owlpaw, and he ended up being the son of Owlpaw’s sister. And deaf in one ear, like Frostfang was. However, the bigger problem than Creampaw’s hearing was his strange fear of water. He was able to get away with it during leaf-bare, between the rivers freezing and Goosewing getting sick, but now that the rivers were open and her cough was gone, the warrior wanted to work on his water skills. The waters were still too deep to practice swimming safely, but fishing usually didn’t land a cat in the water.
Goosewing had nudged Creampaw back in the makeshift camp, with only the instruction of “We’re going training,” before heading out. She hadn’t wanted to alert him to today’s plans, lest he spend the entire journey complaining. Especially since she planned on taking him to- Oh, here we are.
The main river in RainClan’s territory, uncreatively called “The River”, was the best place to catch fish. However, it was also the stream most flooded with leaf-bare’s snowmelt. Goosewing would have preferred training him at the Sand Bar, but she had checked yesterday and the sand bar was completely flooded over. They would have to fish from the bank of the main River. True, she could have picked the Stone Stream with its shallower waters, but it didn’t have the fish that the main River had. Besides, despite his kithood accident, the young tom knew how to swim by now. The lynx pointed cat sat down next to the river bank; blue eyes looking at her apprentice expectantly. “Today, we’re going to practice fishing. The clan needs food, and if you’re skilled enough, you won’t have to get more than your paw wet.”
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Mar 9, 2013 23:47:19 GMT -5
[smear:f7c394]CREAMPAW[/Smear:FFFFFF] | Such was the case with natural pessimism, the moment Goosewing had nudged him out of camp like a kit in need of corralling, simply stating that they were to start today's training, Creampaw's thoughts had turned to the mud. It smelled. It was gross. It wasn't even a flattering color. What in the name of StarClan was the point of grooming his pelt to perfection if training - presumably battle training, though that was probably him getting his hopes up, surprisingly - was just going to ruin it? Stifling a growl, the handsome red-shaded tom padded after her with a grimace written all over his muzzle, careful to keep his tail from dragging, attempting to delay the inevitable state of filthy he would likely return to camp in.
Despite having no need to do so, Creampaw swiveled his deaf left ear, a habit he didn't want to break, as that would mean his left ear was more or less ornamental nowadays, as he had no chance of ever recovering the hearing on that particular side. Even though he would be forever in a partially-muffled world, Creampaw had come to cope with this disability, his eyes sharp and his senses fully utilized, though his techniques were plainly and painfully unoriginal, usually following his examples down to the letter and having no head for improvising.
Though he was a little late in picking up the gurgle of the stream, a sixth sense forced the persnickety tom's paws deep into the earth in an abrupt halt, amber eyes wide with something like a mixture of fear and hesitation. Water? She wants me to FISH today? What, are you cats getting tired of mice and birds and what-have-you? Couldn't they be content with whatever they caught in what little woodlands RainClan owned?
...Did they REALLY need to have fish all the time?
Variety was the spice of life!
Okay, not even he believed that garbage...but that didn't change the fact that he was not particularly thrilled with the direction today's training was taking. With a reluctant growl, Creampaw started moving again, flicking mud from his toe-tufts with an almost comical look of disgust. "Are you crazy, Goosewing?" Mewed the tom with a slight whiny undertone. "...the river flooded us out of camp not even three sunrises ago. How is this a good idea?" The stupid fish won't even be there.
He would have kneaded his paws into the earth to expel some of his nervous energy, but that would mean making them horrendously muddier than they already were. Eying the swollen river as though it were a river made of the tears of kittens, he was aware, with a growing sense of dread, that fishing was unavoidable for a RainClan cat. He COULD fish. He had done it before...but never when the river had been this size.
For a tom who's worst fear was drowning, this was setting itself up to be a pretty unpleasant start to his day.
| I dreamed I was missing. You were so scared. No one would listen, 'cause no one else cared. ~//~
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2013 14:21:14 GMT -5
G O O S E W I N G By this time, Goosewing had learned to deal with her apprentice's strange hate of water, and his complaining no longer made the warrior try to rethink her strategy. Instead, she waited, blue eyes staring at the long-haired RainClan tom until his rant was over. Patience was never her strong suit, but it was one thing she was learning as a mentor the second time. Was Owlpaw this testing? Though her first apprentice had lived in StarClan for many seasons now and was fading from her memory, she was fairly certain they were not as trying as Owlpaw's nephew was turning out. A RainClan cat that doesn't like getting his coat wet... Honestly. The young cats these days.
"It's a good idea because fish don't care about floods," she instructed evenly. The half-tabby cat didn't view flooding as a problem for cats that could swim, truly, and the flooding of their camp was more an annoyance than anything. Excluding the cats that died. That was a tragedy, of course. But now, the river had slowed down enough to not be a danger. As long as a cat could swim. Creampaw could; Goosewing and his father Whitewater had taught him the basics of swimming, even with his strange aversion. He was a full-blooded RainClan cat, after all, not like the cats who had loners and cats from other clans as parents.
"We're just fishing today, anyways," she concluded, trying to put his strange fears about water to rest. "The amount of water in the river only matters if you fall in." Figuring a demonstration was in order (she knew he could fish, but maybe acting like he couldn't would make him want to prove her wrong?), the warrior stepped up to the river's new edge and peered into the water. At least the sun was co-operating; Goosewing was not fond of the idea of trying to drag Creampaw to a better fishing spot now that he knew today's lesson. Blue eyes stared into the water, searching for... there! A brown-grey leg darted out, and Goosewing scooped a decent-sized fish onto the bank of the river, getting a bit of her coat wet in the process. For a heartbeat, the warrior debated letting it flop off to the right while she tried to catch another one, but as this was mostly a demonstration and not a hunting trip, she left the water's edge and bit into the prey's neck, snapping that bone cord along the back. After a few more heartbeats, the fish stopped moving, and Goosewing dropped it onto the ground.
Light blue eyes looked back at Creampaw. "Your turn."
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Mar 12, 2013 14:42:53 GMT -5
[smear:f7c394]CREAMPAW[/Smear:FFFFFF] | There were days when he felt like the fisher, and then there were days he felt like the fish. Watching the slippery scaled creature flop around helplessly on the bank, Creampaw's expression soured, ears flattening out to the sides as if he were watching a personification of his comfort - yep, that was it dying, and Goosewing had just taken him out of his element (which was, for the fish, ironically the river) and shoved him into one he couldn't survive in. He flinched when she snapped it's neck, almost feeling like he should say a little something to StarClan for his newly deceased happiness, but thought better of it. Snap out of it, stupid, it's just a stupid fish! And Goosewing wouldn't let you fall in anyway.
...Well...
Approaching the bank felt like he was walking to the gallows, the intimidating water levels what was likely making the tom suddenly act so cowardly, but he did deserve some credit for trying to muscle his way through. Crouching on the bank, he was a rabbit-length away from the actual water's edge, the river sloshing a little nosily against the muddy bank on which he perched, cursing the filth and the fish and the fact that he had been born a RainClan cat. Come here little fish, let me hurry up and ruin your day so mine can be OVER. Temperament fouled, the red-shaded tom still tried to hold his tail clear of the mud, though he had a sinking suspicion that the damage had already been done, the tom semi distracted by his appearance to notice a fish dart just at the edge of his peripherals. Frog-dung! GET BACK HERE. He made a half-hearted slap on the water's surface with his paw, his good ear rotated towards Goosewing, and therefore he did not hear the distant sound of something - or someone - approaching from his deaf side.
~*~
Having been watching from a large clump of reeds and bank-dwelling plants for a few heartbeats now, Crowpaw had watched, mesmerized by how much his fellow apprentice actually disliked the water. And he's a RainClan cat? What a frogbelly! The tom felt a spike of anger, as if annoyed that this sourpuss of a cat was someone he was stuck in the apprentices' den with as opposed to Hawkpaw, his brother. Unaware that Creampaw was deaf, he did find it incredibly easy to sneak up on the tom along the bank, careful not to get caught by his reflection in the water's surface. Grinning malevolently, he waited until Goosewing had glanced away for a second - only a second - before launching out of the reeds and yelling;
"Hey Creampaw! THINK FAST!"
Planting muddy paws on the older tom's back, he gave a hard shove and sent the senior apprentice toppling over into the river, Creampaw letting out a yowl as though he'd been murdered, with Crowpaw left on the bank crowing with laughter. "Oh come on, don't flop around like a fish with one fin," teased the dark tabby, orange eyes glittering. "You're a RainClan cat - so swim!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2013 14:53:17 GMT -5
G O O S E W I N G The near-senior warrior stared at her apprentice expectedly as he edged his way towards the river. At least he’s co-operating… ‘Count your blessings’ was a saying, but she wasn’t exactly sure about trying to apply it here. After all, when Creampaw had eventually sat down, it was too far away from the river itself for decent fishing. If she found out his reluctance was due to not wanting his long fur wet… At least he touched the water? Goosewing couldn’t stop the annoyed sigh from escaping upon witnessing his less than stellar performance. The truly frustrating part was that she knew he could do better, and it was just his strange aversion to water getting in the way. If he could only get over that, Creampaw would actually be a decent warrior. “Try getting closer,” she instructed tiredly, already figuring her words were for naught.
Unfortunately, her words provided the auditory cover for an uninvited guest, and when light blue eyes turned from her apprentice to the stream, trying to spot any more fish, said guest made his presence known. Instinct kicking in first, the attack instantly provoked a hiss from the warrior, and before she recognized the other cat she was already upon him. His size made the warrior pause, allowing her brain to catch up and recognize the intruder. Crowpaw. One of the mutts in RainClan; his mother had been StoneClan’s deputy before she had Vultureback’s kits. Recently, one of the kits went back to StoneClan, and Goosewing was one of the cats who firmly believed the rest of them should go back to StoneClan as well. Unfortunately, Sandstar was of the habit to allow all sorts of cats into RainClan, even making his deputy an ex-loner cat. Most days, the warrior tolerated them, especially since her sister had adopted one who was related to Frostfang somehow, but this little mutt had outstepped his place, and the kitless she-cat had no problems putting him back.
The only warning she gave of her plan were a few words that sounded relatively calm but dripped with venom. “Yes, halfClan, swim.” Quickly, the half-tabby cat bit into the scruff of Crowpaw’s neck and, with a surprising amount of strength for such a thin she-cat, Goosewing tossed him into near the exact center of the river. Light blue eyes admired the joke that Crowpaw certainly flew like a crow for a heartbeat or two, but they quickly returned to her apprentice. However, she didn’t rush in to ‘save’ him. The tom knew how to swim, after all, and it was harder than getting scales off a fish to get him to actually practice it. While she’d rather die than admit it, Crowpaw’s ambush had been an effective way to get her apprentice into the water and stop him from worrying about what state his fur was in.
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Mar 16, 2013 18:37:46 GMT -5
[smear:f7c394]CREAMPAW[/Smear:FFFFFF] | A yowl of terror slid past pale red-shaded jaws, Creampaw utterly oblivious to who had pushed him in, his thoughts and actions simply focused on getting himself out. The deafness in one ear was always the most noticeable when the oppressive wall of sound, the unending crash of water against his body was muffled if not absent completely on his left side. Somehow it was that absence of sound that made it all the more terrifying. Easing himself up out of the water with a heave of effort, the drenched tom shook out his coat, heart pounding it's fists against the walls of his ribcage, whole body shaking - the coldness that tried to seep beneath his undercoat not the cause of his distress.
Who did it? Who PUSHED me?
Turning accusing eyes away from the ground, Creampaw's mouth fell open as he saw at first, only Goosewing, her voice dripping with venom - but then he heard a subsequent splash and the loud curses of someone who had, much like himself, been caught completely by surprise. Shaking the water from his ears with a few graceless, rotating left-and-right swings of his head, Creampaw glared through the churning water to make out the dark shape of an apprentice - Crowpaw, by the looks of it - swim to the other side of the river, climb up and shake out his coat.
The apprentice looked about as mad as Creampaw should've been, but what he'd considered a near-death-experience had knocked the fight right out of him. Though he was thankful that Goosewing had put forth the effort to pay back the little piece of crowfood that had pushed him in, he was still in a shivering state of shock that didn't allow for much motor-function and proper reactions. Never. Never. Never.
Shuddering, Creampaw, for a delirious moment, thought he had lost hearing in both ears, and let out a low, desperate note, feeling his heart stop when he was able to locate the sound of his own voice. I can still hear. I'm fine. I'm cold, I'm wet, but I'm fine. I can still hear. In the midst of trying to knit back together his sense of stability and calmness, Creampaw's thoughts gradually made their way to his brother, and he could scarcely imagine a world spent so close to the water where he would not be able to hear it.
To him, the silence was almost more frightening than the water that had caused it.
~*~
Crowpaw spat out a large amount of water, hissing, whiskers dripping as he turned to look at the warrior she-cat with contempt. "HalfClan? I'm more RainClan then you and your failure for an apprentice!" He snarled, taking extreme offense to the idea that he was somehow half unworthy, half worthless before the eyes of the bigoted she-cat. He had been born here. He would fight for RainClan and probably die for RainClan's cause - that is, if RainClan didn't stop fighting him. Orange eyes like daggers, Crowpaw spat in Goosewing's direction, feeling the blood rushing in his ear drums far louder than the coursing river, the aggressive young tom took her words to heart, vowing to chew on and spit them back in her face once he could properly prove himself. I'll show that wretched old bird. Just you watch.
Having no qualms about mouthing off to someone older than him, Crowpaw departed first, shaking the water from his dense blackish-brown coat before disappearing into a cluster of bushes, intending to either hunt or fish at some other part of the river and away from two cats who made Hawk-kit's desertion feel like a trip to the border and back. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 17, 2013 12:26:58 GMT -5
G O O S E W I N G The small fleck of fear that Creampaw actually wouldn’t make it out, that he and his pile of fur would drag him down and under, was thankfully extinguished when light blue eyes saw him struggling his way to shore. The relief filling her heart might have taken another cat by surprise, considering how much Goosewing complained of him, but she had grown rather fond of her second apprentice. Not to mention, if he hadn’t returned from the water, that would have been her second failed attempt at mentoring some poor cat only to have them die an apprentice. She couldn’t have taken a third, not with that record.
Anyway, the oversized furball wasn’t dead yet, so that mental river didn’t need to be swam in. He might be, though... That shaking didn’t look good. The river hadn’t been that cold, had it? The warrior knew that cats could die falling into the river in leaf-bare, but that was always when there was ice, and he hadn’t been in there long… Unsure what to do, Goosewing took a few steps closer to her apprentice. I should have heard the rat sneaking up… He had approached from Creampaw’s deaf side, so the blame really couldn’t be placed on his not noticing, instead resting solely on herself. True, she certainly hadn’t expected the attack, but that was no excuse. What if it had been a rogue cat, or a NightClan sneak attack, instead of just a bratty half-clan runt? The seasoned fighter flinched at the low noise that came out of her apprentice, and she took a few steps closer to him, sitting not too close but within paw-reach of the miserable-looking cat. Slowly and with more softness than the she-cat usually used with anyone outside her family, one tabby leg reached out and nudged his side. Any sort of words to get him back on his feet and stop shaking like a fish out of water failed to enter her brain, so she just kept her mouth shut.
At least, until the little mutt that had sent her apprentice into shock made his way out of the water. Pity. Looks like the half-clan runt could swim after all. Blue eyes glared right back at Crowpaw, feeling no obligation to coddle or play nice. Six moons and out of the nursery meant fair game. His little claim that he was somehow more of a RainClan cat than her or Creampaw earned him a derisive chuckle. She had no insecurities about her heritage or where she came from, and her sister was the medicine cat; the only way she could be more of RainClan would be if her brother had been made deputy instead of that loner-born tom.
Letting the rat have the last word was something of a non-option, and the instant he looked like he was going to run off she yowled, “Go on, halfClan, learn how to be a RainClan cat from your NightClan mentor!” The warrior listened carefully, waiting until he was out of range before turning her attention to her own apprentice. Should she cancel the lesson or just wait for him to recover? If it was just his mind that got shaken, he could probably recover enough for the lesson today to continue, but if he caught cold… “Are you alright?” she meowed, much quieter than her previous words. Of course he’s not, idiot. Instead of hitting herself for the foolish question, Goosewing tried again. “I mean… You’re not like… dying of Cold, right?” That still wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but it was closer, so the unskilled conversationalist didn’t bother to try again.
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Mar 21, 2013 2:16:23 GMT -5
[smear:f7c394]CREAMPAW[/Smear:FFFFFF] | The words that came out of Goosewing's mouth - a lack of eloquence in no small part due to the older she-cat's poor conversation skills - fell, pun intended, upon semi-deaf ears. Good ear swiveling to snag the last few quiet murmurs, Creampaw felt a flare of indignation for the she-cat he had spent more than 6 moons training under, his expression stretching to reflex his mood. "Of course I'm dying of cold - look at me!" He snapped, short-tempered due to a mixture of fear-induced fatigue and the fact that he was still trying to piece himself together, like a shattered icicle. A twinge of regret passed over the soaked tom's countenance, but it was quickly shuffled back under the rug of self-pity and crippling fear, Creampaw shakily forcing his water-stiffened limbs to support his weight. After a few heartbeats of simply shivering in place, Creampaw began to shake out each leg, the back legs first, then his left foreleg, right foreleg, and an overall shiver that shook his whole frame from whisker to tail-tip - the sodden, sorry excuse for a plume now officially beyond saving, in terms of muddiness.
Don't bite her tail off, idiot. She's just being concerned!
Well then she should've pulled me out of the river if she was concerned! He argued with himself childishly, aware that his frustrations were not really with her so much as they were at himself. It was...humiliating to let that sniveling little piece of horse-dung sneak up on him and push him into the river as though he were a helpless kitten! Despite being twice Crowpaw's age, the apprentice was nearing the same size, something Creampaw felt as a direct blow to his pride and just another reason to dislike the little Half-Clan runt.
Trying to shake off more water and irritated feelings, Creampaw noted, with heavy bitterness, that he had not caught a single fish yet. "Can we go fish at the willow cove?" He mewed in a tone that was otherwise flat save for an underlying note of childish insistence, as if he'd start walking there whether Goosewing gave her consent or not.
Truth be told, he was soaked, dirty, half-deaf and his pride had been semi-drowned just a few moments ago. All he wanted to do now was catch some stupid fish, spend a few hours grooming his pelt back to perfection, and then he would finally get some sleep so that he could pretend this day never happened. Oh and if the opportunity presented itself...
He'd get that little piece of fish-dung back!
|
|
|