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Post by Fawn on Jan 10, 2017 17:23:41 GMT -5
 45 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior "Rise and shine, Berrypaw. We're covering hunting in the woods today." Russethawk's ruddy coat was fluffed up against the wind, the top layer of snow constantly being swept up into the eyes of the RainClan cats. Today's weather was hardly ideal — but when it came to leafbare, there was no telling if today was going to be a good day compared to the days coming after it. Better to get out there, get her used to this chilly weather than hide away in their dens like mice.
So much time had passed, under normal circumstances, Russethawk would've felt as if the war between the Purists and the Loyalists had happened a lifetime ago. His mind would have been quick to shed the negative emotions—the frustration, resentment, disbelief—in place of the new. But it was hard forgetting things like that. Moving on. He had no choice, if he wanted to stay strong for the Clan, then he would learn to let it all go.
Berrypaw's father, Mothfoot, passed closely by with a silver fish clamped in his eyes. Russethawk gave him a curt nod and a forced smile, but Mothfoot either didn't notice or wasn't going to stop to acknowledge the actions of another senior warrior. Russethawk sighed, wishing that Bravebird had an apprentice right now so they could face this weather together, and just get out of camp for a little while with their pupils.
Instead, he grimaced and turned away from the biting wind, trying not to get any more snow in his eyes than he already had. "Don't worry about grooming too much," he mewed in to the she-cat. "The wind's going to spoil your efforts." He wanted to say 'the sooner we get going, the sooner we can get back'. Russethawk was determined not to be a pushy mentor, however; Berrypaw had quite an adjustment period after the Clan was finally reunited. He always wanted to be a good example to her, an ally. Following in Razorstar's footsteps here—his whiskers twitched humorously at the thought—would only aggravate a touchy situation, not strengthen a bond.
Word Count: 351 Words Tags: @dreamer
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Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2017 23:31:58 GMT -5
 Age. Rank. Clan. Berrypaw nearly leaped out of her pelt when her mentor called her name from the entrance. She had been meddling with her nest, trying to decide if she should switch out the moss, and if the feathers she had tucked into it could be extracted and transferred to a new nest. Russethawk's voice caused her to arch up and whirl around in surprise, but she immediately flattened and crouched, averting her eyes in embarrassment.
"O-okay, I'll get ready."
She paused to take in the sorry state of her pelt, spiky and fluffed up from her surprise, but also from a night of sleep. Her fur might be an asset with this icy cold, yet it never seemed to behave in the leafbare weather. Berrypaw had actually not struggled as much with the weather as Frogpaw had, his fur was shorter, and as a result she had invited him to cuddle close to her during the chill nights, when their breaths turned into mist in the air, and icicles formed at the entrance to the apprentice den. With brisk efficiency the she-cat began to tame her fur but paused with her tongue still out of her mouth, mid-motion, when her mentor suggested she give it up. Heat prickled over her pelt, and her ears twitched closer to the side of her head.
"Yeah, of course, sorry."
The she-cat leaped forward over a nest, joining her mentor and squinting at the brighter light outside the den.
Berrypaw glanced at her mentor thoughtfully, she was grateful that he was taking the time to take her out and about, whether or not she was excited for it. She knew that he was trying to help and train her, but she also couldnt help but wonder if he was trying to make her face her past. The Purists had slid straight back into clan life... for the most part. For Berrypaw and her siblings, who had been born and grown up only with the Purists struggled to acquaint themselves with essentially an entire new clan of cats, whose customs were slightly different. She still couldnt remember some cats names, to her great embarrassment. But she was adjusting, learning everything about Rainclan life.
"So where in the territory are we going? The wooded cove?"
It made sense that that would be where he took her. She knew that for awhile prey had avoided it because of the cat scent that still lingered, but the cold had killed most of it, and birds would land wherever they saw any possible food. The she-cat looked around camp, noticing Mothfoot depositing fish on the fresh-kill pile. Well, at least some cats were still hunting, thankfully her father's pelt granted him the warmth and protection some other cats lacked. As the wind slicked her fur off to one side, she found that her mentor's words were correct, and she sighed, not looking forward to grooming in the evening.
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Post by Fawn on Jan 20, 2017 10:19:24 GMT -5
45 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior "That's right." Russethawk flicked her ear with his tail approvingly. "It's one of the few places in our territory that actually has woods dense enough to hunt in. Most of the cat-smell should be gone now, Stormstar's very keen on letting the old division marks fade." They had no use for them now. RainClan, no matter how many cuts and scrapes they all had, was whole again. It would be a while before the healing process finished - if it ever did - but they would all do their part, if the Clan mattered to them as much as Russethawk believed it did.
There was another benefit to hunting in the wooded cove. Berrypaw's kithood had taken place there, and he was eager to see how much of the woods she remembered. "We're nearly there. Listen, Berrypaw." Russethawk slowed, turning to face the fluffy she-cat with a patient smile - he wanted to grin and crack jokes, but something told him not to overdo it on the 'I'm like a fun big brother, you can tell me anything' vibe he was going for. "I'm not taking you here to punish you, or test your loyalties. This really is the best place to hunt in the territory. I don't care if your parents were Purists, we're all RainClan cats at the end of the day. But if you have anything you want to say, or talk about, you've always got a listening ear right here."
I think I did okay. Russethawk was a bit relieved that Berrypaw seemed to have none of Piketooth's obstinancy; Razorstar's son had been a burr in his pelt for many moons, though Russethawk had bent over backward trying to do right by that young tom. His compassion and at-times-necessary sternness didn't seem to have had much effect - though Piketooth hadn't gotten into any trouble recently. So that was something. Things would, whiskers crossed, go a little smoother with Berrypaw. She was young and impressionable, and hadn't suffered any deep personal losses like Piketooth had.
Word Count: 335 Words Tags: @dreamer
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Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2017 21:21:25 GMT -5
Age. Rank. Clan. Her mentor confirmed her suspicions, and seemed pleased that she had reasoned so well. Her ears flickered with contented sheepishness. Well at least she was paying attention. She doubted Goldpaw was, he only had enmity for his mentor. Frogpaw was adjusting even better than Berrypaw was, surprisingly, but still Goldpaw's shadow loomed over both of them. He, more than anything, was the enduring reminder of where they had been a few moons ago, and he could just not let it go. As she followed her mentor quietly over the streams towards the Wooded Cove, she thought back to her kithood, her eyes a bit wide and glazed.
Russethawk spoke almost as if he knew her fears and concerns, and her ears wilted slightly, just as her step faltered. She recovered thankfully, but not before she felt her pelt prickle with embarassment.
"O-of couse Russethawk, thank you." For a moment she was silent again, but she felt like she should explain herself. "Its just... my brother, both my brothers. We're a bit behind in training, we never had the chance to learn from the elders, and we are all dealing with it differently. But Goldpaw., I worry about him." She paused again, seeking for words. "My dreams have always been haunted one way or another, but now they have a specific image. Leopardyowl, and Petalfall, and Swanfeather... do you think they could ever come back?"
She knew they should be hunting, so she quickly added."We dont have to talk about now of course, I mean we are supposed to be training, and isnt that what Im supposed to do? Its my place as an apprentice and the clan needs the prey to survive, so... we could just wait to talk about it later if thats better.
305. Fawn. Notes: shes silly |
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Post by Fawn on Feb 19, 2017 10:16:38 GMT -5
45 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior "My dreams have always been haunted one way or another, but now they have a specific image. Leopardyowl, and Petalfall, and Swanfeather... do you think they could ever come back?"
Russethawk's ear swiveled back to catch her words, and he felt a small stab of dismay over what she had to say. 'My dreams have always been haunted one way or another'. That meant she had grown up in nothing but fear. Russethawk nearly rolled his eyes at her parents, privately irritated with them for feeding into the myths and falsehoods that 'impure cats were bad cats'. He knew without a shred of uncertainty that Leopardyowl, Petalfall and Swanfeather had all made it very clear that the loyalists could not be trusted.
However, what was done was done. It was his turn now to undo the damage. Show her that the world wasn't meant to frighten her so much, or send her bad dreams every time there was uncertainty in the Clan. Glancing back to the small, fluffy apprentice, Russethawk rested his red fox-like tail upon her shoulder. "I don't believe they will come back. Even if they wanted to, three or four cats against one Clan is suicidal; StarClan made their stance clear. Stormstar is the rightful leader, so any grievances they have now are misplaced."
Of course, the exiled cats could always surprise them. Russethawk could picture Leopardyowl - a maddened tom who had fallen so far - skulking around the territory, biding his time for when he could attack another unsuspecting Clanmate. But they weren't fools. They weren't blind any longer. It was much easier to look for menacing shadows now that you knew who those shadows were.
Moving on to the second of her two concerns, Russethawk removed his tail and kept walking, his pace leisured. "Now about Goldpaw. all cats handle change differently; there's more than a pawful of our Clanmates that went through a rough stage in their apprenticeship. I'd trust in Owlflight's ability to look after him, though. If things don't change over the next few moons, or he gets worse, you can tell me." He'd raise those concerns with Owlflight, though he figured she would already know what was up with her own apprentice.
With a jovial light in his eyes, Russethawk finally stopped, letting the scents of the woodlands wash over him. It was such a stark contrast with the river-water and the wet, peaty banks. Everything seemed so dry here, which was the point. Apart from birds, fish and bank voles, there weren't too many creatures that liked staying in the water day in and day out. "I know we're fighting the wind right now, but tell me what you can smell." Russethawk gestured for Berrypaw to step up and have a sniff. The snow was spraying over them in short buffeting bursts, so Russethawk stood in a way that would act as a buffer, giving her a chance to concentrate without snow in her eyes.
Word Count: 486 Words Tags: @dreamer
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2017 11:28:08 GMT -5
9 moons. Apprentice. Rainclan.
Berrypaw listened as her mentor sought to assuage her worries. It was true, there was no way such a small group of cats could defeat the clan, and if they hurt anyone else Stromstar would not show mercy again. They would be incredibly stupid to try anything, and finally Berrypaw breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that from now on her nightmares would go away.
As for her brother... she really couldn't be sure what waas going on with him, but she hoped that it was as Russethawk said. Berrypaw knew that she would have seriously struggled to adjust to Rainclan had it not been for Russethawk. He had helped her, and she hoped that Owlflight could help her brother. Goldpaw was the one who had absorbed the most of the teachings of pure blood, and he still resented how the rest of Rainclan had treated the Purists. She hoped though that maybe being around so many other catd would help change his views.
Berrypaw realized that she had zoned out for a second, and quickly went to do as her metor told her. She opened her mouth, breathing in to allow scent to pass over her scent glands. She also swiveled her ears and her head to catch scent from several different directios.
"It's... odd. I smell only the tracest scent of Purists, in fact a more recent scent is that of stale blood even though that's pretty old too. Guessing that was from Adderstrike's fox." She took a moment to glance at her mentor hoping she was not wrong.
"More recent scents include mouse, and a... cardinal?" She wasn't sure and she was a bit embarrassed because of it.
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Post by Fawn on Mar 21, 2017 9:28:01 GMT -5
45 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior Russsethawk's keen eyes widened slightly in surprise, and a pleased purr erupted from his throat. "Very good. I couldn't scent different kinds of birds when I was an apprentice - they all just smelled like feathers to me." It was true that each kind seemed to have a unique scent; it was hard to tell for the average apprentice. Especially a RainClan apprentice. Just like each type of fish had a slightly different taste, so too did all the other prey in RainClan's sparse woodlands.
The ruddy tom looked up in time to see the source of a loud, challenging call, and watched as red wings beat against a snowy gray sky as a bird landed in a tree in front of them. It seemed to eye them with one shiny, beady eye, and Russethawk looked back, amused. "There's your cardinal. Now, tell me what direction the blood scent is coming from; if we can smell it, so can the prey animals, so we shouldn't hunt there." Most prey animals were smart enough to avoid signs of a recent struggle - even a few days after it had happened and the 'dust had settled'.
In a world like this, being overly cautious meant the difference between seeing the next season and ending up on the fresh kill pile.
Russethawk was able to pinpoint the recent smell of mouse that Berrypaw had mentioned, and he was careful not to give away it's location by an instinctive swivel of his right ear to pick up the sounds of tiny claws scuttling through exposed tree roots. Berrypaw was uncertain of herself. Doubtful. Russethawk planned to fix that, but he didn't want to go easy on her either.
Training her was a pleasant experience; Piketooth had been stubborn, Rushwhisker had been a quick learner, but Berrypaw was pensive. He was enjoying the calmer pace; Piketooth had been more headache than anything else, but they'd gotten through it.
Word Count: 320 Words Tags: @dreamer
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