[Phoenix]

WE'RE ALL OK UNTIL THE DAY WE'RE NOT

Gustclaw bit back another yawn as he made his way out of the camp. The previous night had seen him tossing and turning more than usual, his mind playing Firestar’s words over and over in a continuous loop, and as a result, by the time he had finally settled into something resembling sleep, the birds had just started to sing. But for all the time he spent worrying, the warrior did not feel any more prepared to handle the responsibility. Dutifully, however, he had risen alongside Mudpelt when the sun had hung not so close to the horizon and gone to find Ravenpaw. Familiarizing the apprentice with their territory, he had decided, would be a good place to start, and it wouldn’t be entirely out of place for his brother to come along. The clan could always use more prey – perhaps Mudpelt could hunt nearby if he didn’t want to follow them all over LightningClan’s land.

One of the downsides of starting late, the warrior decided as he stopped and waited for the others, was that he was already hot and they had barely left camp. With Greenleaf arriving in full force, the temperature had taken to spiking toward the middle of the day, making him want to do very little other than doze in the shade or dig down to find some of the cooler soil. As agreeable as those options sounded, however, neither would be appropriate for today. Addressing Ravenpaw, Gustclaw started, “So you’ve been an apprentice for a little while, but you haven’t started formal training, right?” His tail flicked by his paws. “I’m not sure how much you’ve been out of camp, but I thought a tour of the territory – or just a refresher, depending – would be a good place to start. How does that sound?”

He turned to cast a green-eyed glance around them. “You can’t really tell now because it’s Greenleaf, but if it rains a lot, water tends to collect here. It can get a little soggy and nasty sometimes, but I’d say it’s usually a pretty reliable hunting spot.” Gustclaw did his best to not sound too awkward as he described the Flooded Grasses not far from their camp. He had always thought that he’d been pretty good at bluffing and at appearing one way when he was really the other, but this was uncharted territory for him. He had never really tried teaching before.

Gustclaw | LightningClan | Warrior | Audience of One - Rise Against

THE SURFACE SHINES WHILE THE INSIDE ROTS

@jabberwocky Fawn

[Fawn]

Mudpelt had been, in the privacy of his own heart, a little surprised that Firestar had rewarded Gustclaw with his own apprentice before him. And then Mudpelt had burned with the shame, realizing that these thoughts had unintentionally belittled Gustclaw and the maturity he'd been showing these past few moons. It has clearly reached Firestar, and Mudpelt would be foolish to doubt her decision. Besides, he could see for himself that Gustclaw was a lot more capable than some of the cats in the Clan; it was not a race, or a competition, but competency stood out. Mudpelt listened, one aptly-colored ear crooked toward the sound of his tabby brother's voice, hearing the beginnings of Gustclaw's experiences with mentoring. Ravenpaw seemed like an intelligent (if not opinionated) young cat, and Mudpelt found himself wondering how those two would get along. For the sake of productivity and for the sake of pleasant moons to come, Mudpelt hoped their relationship would be a positive one. Gustclaw wasn't the most social; if anything, both brothers had become a little closed off in the recent moons. Mudpelt had allowed himself to fall into an almost mindless pattern of behavior. Sleep. Hunt. Eat. Sleep. Hunt. Eat. It was as if his body had not been in his own, but was following some ancient rhythms reserved for cats whose minds had been rocked from their foundations, and the wills of his ancestors passed down through the generations had taken over for the sake of survival. But he was recovering. Mudpelt hunted a short distance away, keeping his attention on the task at hand but, like a compass needle, he was always aware of Gustclaw's presence in the background. His 'North point', as it were; the anchor that kept him from spinning helplessly through life with no sense of direction. Family and the Code. That was all he had left now. And he would honor both by bringing home some prey before the heat intensified or a storm rolled in, whichever happened first.

Word Count: 340 Words
Tags: Phoenix , @jabberwocky
Notes: