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Cinderstripe rose as the sun sank beneath the mountains, her fangs flashing in a lengthy yawn as she padded out of the warrior's den. A glance around the camp's central cavern found it mostly deserted, patrols already having left and many cats still finishing up the day's dozing. Her golden eyes lingered on the dwindling fresh-kill pile, and the pale-coated apprentice that picked through it, his expression indicating that the remaining selection left something to be desired. The she-cat's whiskers twitched. That won't do, she mused.

"Snakepaw," she greeted the young tom. "Join me for a hunt?" Her eyes twinkled playfully as she added, "Perhaps we can catch something more to your taste."

She led him out into the fading twilight, opening her jaws to taste the warm evening breeze. Tonight, she decided, they'd hunt in the Black Woods. Beckoning her companion to follow, Cinderstripe started towards dark forest, her claws eager for the prey that stirred within the young growth beneath the charred pine pillars.

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Scrap-paw and her mentor had already left for some early training before the deputy's duties for the day could keep him too busy, but Honeywhisker was still asleep since she'd had the misfortune of drawing a role in the sunhigh patrol. Which left Snakepaw awake but idle in camp until his mentor woke, which likely wouldn't be for a while yet. He wasn't too concerned about it, because idle paws never stayed idle for long in NightClan. Some warrior would give him a task to do soon enough.

So the albino apprentice figured he might as well see if he could find something from the freshkill pile to eat while he had the chance, but upon reaching it found it rather lacking. He frowned down at the few remaining pieces of prey and nudged a scrawny mouse thoughtfully, wondering if he should even take anything. He recalled Honeywhisker's lessons on the Warrior Code. An apprentice wasn't supposed to eat until the elders and queens had been fed, not without permission, which he didn't have. His belly rumbled in demand and his ears flicked back against his head as he pondered his decision.

Then some cat called his name and he turned quickly around as the she-cat asked him to hunt with her. It didn't sound like an order, but he wouldn't pass it up. He could catch himself a fresh meal and obey the Warrior Code like he was supposed to. And he could get out of camp. He couldn't wait to be a warrior so he could leave camp whenever he wanted. Honeywhisker told him it shouldn't be that much longer. He was a good hunter despite the disadvantage his white coat gave him, she said, but his fighting technique still needed a little work. He didn't mind. Scrap-paw was the fighter.

“Sure Cinderstripe!” he responded cheerfully, padding over to her with his tail waving and following her out into the gathering night. His pale fur stood out in stark contrast to the darkness, but his steps fell silently on the forest floor, a product of moons of practice to help make up for his visibility in the night by at least being silent as a shadow. He kept behind Cinderstripe as well, to let her lead of course, but also to help keep him out of sight of any prospective prey behind her much better camouflaged gray fur. Part of him wanted to ask Cinderstripe about herself. After all he didn't really know her all too well. But they were hunting, talking would scare away prey, and he didn't want to make her think Honeywhisker was a bad mentor and hadn't even taught him that much about hunting. Maybe after they'd both caught something?

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Long ago, fire had swallowed up the canopy of the Black Woods. It made the forest floor seem oddly exposed; there were no branches to block out the sky. A few early stars flickered above, though most remained shrouded as the last of the day's light faded. The pair wound through the scorched trees until Cinderstripe halted abruptly, the tip of her tail twitching slightly, the excitement of the hunt quickening her heartbeat. She stared out in to the forest to her right, maw parted slightly, before she turned back to Snakepaw, who'd drawn up on her other side. The warrior blinked kindly at him, no intention of alerting their prey to their presence by breaking the silence. She gently nudged the young tom's shoulder, directing his hunt to their left.

She watched him for a moment before a soft rustle sounded in the distance. She melted in to the shadows, sweeping silently towards her quarry.  Her whiskers tickled the charred bark of the tree on her right as she dropped lower to a crouch, golden eyes locked on a fat vole that scrabbled beneath a woody shrub. She crept forth with baited breath, each paw settling on earth with the deliberate skill of a seasoned hunter. Her dark coat allowed her to get menacingly close before a slight leap forward trapped the little animal beneath her claws. The vole met its doom before it ever recognized the danger.

The she-cat thanked StarClan for her catch as she took it gently in her jaws. Her thoughts released from the focus of her hunt, she padded back towards her original stopping point. She buried her prey there before delving back in to the forest, keen on harvesting the rich bounty the forest offered her tonight.

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Cinderstripe brushed earth and leaf litter over the most recent of her catch, noting the two mice her companion had added to their little cache. She looked up, noting the stars glittering in full force now. The shrew she'd returned marked her fifth catch. I should check on him. She followed the path he'd taken back into the forest noiselessly. When the dark-furred she-cat found him, she crouched to observe from the darkness, becoming still to avoid to distracting the apprentice with her presence.

@zen

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It didn't take a lot to figure out that Cinderstripe's nudge meant to split up, and Snakepaw nodded in understanding and stalked silently away, ears pricked and jaws parted to draw in the scents around him. He kept to the shadows of the trees, keeping his pale fur out of the moonlight as much as possible, pausing when the scent of mouse alerted him to prey ahead. Creeping forward cautiously, he heard the creature before he pinpointed it, scrabbling through pine needles at the base of a tree. He worked himself around carefully, ever closer, and when he pounced, his forepaws closed around a soft, furry body and he quickly ended it's life before it could alert any other prey in the area to his presence.

He took the mouse back to where he had separated from Cinderstripe, careful to remain quiet in case she was nearby so he wouldn't disturb her hunt, and found the beginnings of her own stash. He added his mouse and turned back, ranging a bit farther. He missed the next mouse, between the lack of cover and a shaft of moonlight illuminating his fur at an inopportune time. His next catch took longer, as the escaped mouse had let out a frightened noise and he'd had to circle around to a different location while the prey in the area calmed down from the warning. Eventually he caught another mouse, adding it to their accumulating pile of prey, and set back out to try for at least one more. They'd been out a while and between them had caught a decent amount, they'd likely be heading back soon. But he wanted to take back more than just two mice.

As he continued his stalking, a musky scent assaulted him on the wind and he paused, determining just where the scent was coming from. There was a mink nearby. They had a strong smell, and just as strong a taste. Some cats didn't like it, but Snakepaw found that he did. He wondered briefly if Cinderstripe liked mink. Maybe they could share it when they went back to camp. Don't count your prey before it's caught! He chided himself, refocusing on tracking the creature down, hoping it hadn't gone to ground.

He finally came upon it as it took down a vole, the lithe creature enjoying its feast, apparently unaware that it was also being hunted. He crouched behind a tree, peering out at it. The wind was blowing toward him, which was what had alerted him to the odor of the mink in the first place. He had no idea Cinderstripe had found him and was watching as he slunk between the trees, watching the mink closely. A mink could fight back. He had to take it by surprise or he could get some nasty bites before he took it down. The creature paused in its feeding, lifting its head suddenly, and Snakepaw darted forward, sure he'd been seen just like with the mouse earlier. He had panicked a bit; it hadn't noticed him and if he'd just remained where he was the mink likely would have gone back to feeding. Too late now.

The mink arched up and skittered back, baring fangs at him as he lashed out with claws unsheathed. It lunged at his paw and he drew it back before it sink those sharp teeth in, and in that moment it bounded away into the trees. Snakepaw cursed softly, knowing he'd screwed up and lost one of his favorite prey, unaware it was heading right toward Cinderstripe.

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Snakepaw had clearly spotted his next prey, and Cinderstripe watched intently, measuring his actions. She crept through the night silently, tracking his movement from a bit of a distance so as to not disturb his hunt. His crouch was well developed, she thought, satisfied. From her vantage point, she could just see the outline of the little creature he hunted. It was a mink, engrossed in its meal. The apprentice was taking his time approaching his prey, and she approved. Minks were tricky – and sharp. That's it, she silently encouraged. The mink froze for a moment, looking up from the vole. She tensed, eyes flashing back to Snakepaw. Steady... But the young tom panicked, leaping forward out of his cover. It was an awkward pounce that landed him too far from the mink, allowing it time to jump back and defend itself. Its teeth just missed his paw, then it turned and fled. The warrior rose slightly, poising herself as it hurtled through the undergrowth towards her.

Cinderstripe leapt forward, materializing from the shadows in an instant. Her foreclaws pinned the mink to the earth, and her teeth clamped down on its spine. A powerful bite stopped its heartbeat. It was a clean and skillful kill, equal parts instinct and calculation. She looked up from from the prey to Snakepaw, greeting him with a friendly purr. The smoky black tabby beckoned him with her tail, grasping her kill in her jaws and waiting until he fell in beside her before she headed back to where they'd stashed the rest of their catches.

"You were doing well," she praised her companion, speech muffled by the mink she carried. "A moment longer and you would've had it." Her amber gaze met his crimson one: curious, kind. "What was on your mind?"

@zen

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At Cinderstripe's sudden appearance, Snakepaw flushed, realizing she'd been watching him, considering the mink in her jaws was the one he'd just scared off. His ears flicked back briefly and he ducked his head, following her back toward their cache of prey. Her praise didn't seem entirely deserved considering he'd missed two of his catches tonight, but he appreciated it anyway. He sighed as he padded along beside her, “Sometimes I'm just afraid I've been seen, I guess. Sometimes I'm right and reacting quickly still gets me my prey in the end. Other times....” He cast a crimson glance at the mink she was carrying, “I guess I'm still having trouble determining which is which, when to wait and when to act.”

He brightened a bit then, however, “At least you were there this time. Mink is my favorite prey, I was really disappointed when I'd thought I'd lost it.” Looking a bit sheepish, he cleared his throat, “Of course, if some other cat wants it when we get back to camp, that's fine.” He knew he wasn't supposed to eat until the elders and queens had been fed. But there were plenty of cats that found the odor of mink unpleasant enough not to eat it, so there was hope he could nab it. Then again, technically it was Cinderstripe's catch, so maybe she would want it. “Erm, do you like mink? Maybe, if no other cat wants it, we could share? I guess we sorta caught it together, right?”

He might not have meant to, but he did basically flush it right toward her. And technically they weren't on an official hunting patrol. They didn't have to take their prey back to camp first. But maybe Cinderstripe still did that anyway, Snakepaw knew there were plenty of warriors that did. Better to be on the safe side and assume so, otherwise he tended to get disapproving looks and cats muttering about his loner heritage.

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Cinderstripe angled her ears towards her companion as they padded between the charred trunks, feeling a pang of sympathy for the young tom. She nodded. “Sometimes I feel the same way in the snow,” she admitted, “but we must trust our own paws. Your stalk is certainly developed enough, and confidence will come with time.” Experience will steady his claws. The warrior considered the apprentice's brilliant white fur for a moment before adding, “Come leafbare, you'll be hunting circles around all of us.”

The dark-furred she-cat purred softly. Snakepaw was obviously a good-natured young tom, eager to please and full of spunk. She thought back to her own apprenticeship, and how she'd wonder if she would ever please her ambitious mentor. Ashlight had not been a patient cat, and for moons it felt as if nothing she accomplished was ever up to par. There was little room for frivolous things like play when there was training to be done. If she were to ask a privilege from Ashlight, she'd find herself scolded or punished with extra chores. Eventually her efforts paid off, and she felt the sting of her mentor's sharp tongue less often. When at last she was made a warrior, Cinderstripe had no doubts about having earned it.

But Cinderstripe was not her mentor. She found Snakepaw's timidness endearing, and was becoming a bit hungry herself. She nodded in agreement. As they reached the clearing where they'd stashed their prey, she lay the mink on the earth, beckoning the pale-furred apprentice with her tail. “We've caught plenty else to feed the clan,” she mewed graciously, settling in to a crouch. “Let's share before we carry the rest to camp.” She waited for Snakepaw to take the first bite before joining him in the meal.

The pair of hunters feasted in their native darkness, enjoying mouthfuls of mink beneath greenleaf's starry sky.

@zen