Apprentice Days (open to all)

[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw awoke reluctantly from his peaceful sleep, the sun’s rays making it impossible for him to be able to fall back asleep. He blinked his amber eyes to clear the fogginess of sleep out of his gaze, and looked quietly around his new den. Seeing that his fellow denmates were up and out of their nests, he quickly shot out of his own warm nest, his pelt and ears hot with embarrassment and shame. "I can’t believe I overslept on my first day of apprenticeship! I can’t believe those stupid furballs didn’t wake me up!” he thought to himself angrily. He was angrier with himself than with his denmates, but it was still nice to share some of the blame. He scampered into the camp clearing, looking around for his mentor, Rookfang. Not seeing the she cat he was assigned to, he quickly took his chance to lick his fur into place.“Might as well look good if I’m going to get into trouble for being late,” he thought.

As the young, spotted apprentice licked down his sleep rumpled fur, his mind was carried back to the dream he had. It had been a rather pleasant dream in the beginning; he had been hunting with his foster brothers and sisters, they had all been much older, and he could feel how powerful his muscles had become as he sprang atop a fleeing mouse. All had been well in his dream until he turned around to face his "siblings." With his freshly caught prey in his jaws he turned to face the others, only to see that they had somehow disappeared. He could no longer see them, but he could hear their taunting voices fill his ears. He could hear them laughing and making fun of him for being an outsider, an orphan, a reject. Blazepaw shivered as his freshly washed fur began to bristle.

[Rendezvous]

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The she-cat has risen early that morning, eager to train her very first apprentice. Honestly, Rookfang was quite surprised that she had even be appointed an apprentice, being a young warrior. But you have to start somewhere right? When she had stepped out of the warrior's den, groomed and presentable, she found that Blazepaw was nowhere to be found. Flicking her tail in slight irritation, she realized that the apprentice was sound asleep in his den. I'll just let him sleep in, if he stays asleep too long, well he'll just miss a day of training and have to make it up tomorrow. She thought.

Figuring she would go out for a quick hunt, the she-cat left the camp. After catching a couple of mice, Rookfang soon stepped back into the camp, dropping the mice onto the fresh-kill pile. Shifting her gaze, she spotted Blazepaw near the apprentice den. Flicking her ears, she padded over to the tom. "About time you woke up." She meowed, looking to the apprentice up and down. She wasn't sure how she would train her apprentice, but she decided that she wasn't going to follow her own mentor's example, instead she would try to find her own way.

"Come on, I will show you all of Thunderclan territory today. Try to keep up, Blazepaw." Rookfang had a habit of running off, due to her bubbly nature and it came as no surprise that she wasn't going to make an exception for poor little Blazepaw. In the long run, perhaps it would help strengthen the young tom's stamina and speed. Turning around, the she-cat bounded out of the camp and back into the forest, hoping that the tom would be able to keep up with her as she made way towards the Riverclan border.

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[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw ducked his head with embarrassment and felt his ears burn hot with shame when he spotted Rookfang padding towards him. “I’m sorry I overslept, Rookfang,” he apologized, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt. How unlucky would it be, to have his mentor hate him on his first day after all? “I’ll do better tomorrow, and I’ll even check on the elders if you want me to,” he offered, staring up at the black and white she cat with wide, amber eyes.

He jumped eagerly to his paws when his mentor announced her plans for the day. “Oh, don’t worry, Rookfang, I can keep up!” he called, his youthful voice filled with the pride and bravado most young males possess. Blazepaw hurried to follow his young mentor out of the Thunderclan camp, his little paws flying across the dirt covered forest floor. After running a few tail lengths, he called out to Rookfang, “Where...are we...going?” He hated how out of breath he already was, it made him feel weak. He hoped Rookfang wouldn’t notice, he couldn’t stand the thought of letting down his own mentor. He forced his golden paws to move just a little faster, to where his nose was nearly touching his mentor’s tail. He wanted desperately not to be a disappointment.

[Rendezvous]

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Although Rookfang was quite content that the apprentice had managed to keep up with her, but upon hearing his breathless question, she slowed her pace. "I'm going to show you the borders today, so that you can make sure not to cross them on accident." She mewed, looking ahead as she caught the fishy scent that belonged to Riverclan. The warrior eventually stopped and her looked to her apprentice. "Blazepaw, what do you smell and hear?" She asked as she pricked her ears, gesturing for the tom to listen closely. If a cat were to actually listen, they would hear the gentle running of the river that marked the boundary of Riverclan.

"That is Riverclan, their river marks their border. You must never cross another clan's border, Blazepaw. There's no point in raising any clan disputes." She meowed as she was began to start moving once again. Her pace was an even pace, not too slow, not too fast so that the apprentice would be able to keep up without passing out.

Jumping over a decaying log, she slowed down once again as she heard the distant roar of monsters. "Hear that? Those are monsters." Rookfang twitched her nose in disgust as she stopped a couple of lengths from the Thunderpath, just as a roaring monster raced past. "Twolegs always lie in their belly, and that's another thing, always stay away from Twolegs, okay?" The she-cat meowed before looking to the Thunderpath, its strange rubber material flooding her nostrils with a unwelcoming scent.

Gesturing with her tail towards the Thunderpath, she meowed, "That is the Thunderpath, never cross it without another warrior and especially not when a monster is near. And over there..." She looked over to the gloomy forest across the Thunderpath. "--lays Shadowclan, trust me no outsider is welcome there." Twitching the tip of her tail, she turned around, wanting to finish the tour before nightfall. "Enjoying being an apprentice so far?" She asked as she slipped into nearby underbrush, heading towards the Owltree.

The she-cat jumped over a small creek, not wanting to get her paws wet. "Our last stop is Fourtrees and the Windclan boundary, would you like to rest?" She meowed, looking up to see that the sun was floating in the middle of sky, suggesting that they had plenty of time.

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[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw was secretly grateful to his mentor for slowing her pace, but he pushed himself harder so that he could travel beside her instead of behind her in an attempt to impress her. His ears pricked with excitement as Rookfang announced her plans for him this day and he could feel his tail give a slight wave of happiness. He stopped beside his mentor, nearly bumping into the she cat, and parted his jaws to gently scent the air. He quickly shut his mouth and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Yuck!” he complained, “That smells awful!” He could hear the trickle of water in the distance, so he looked to his mentor with bold eyes. “Riverclan actually enjoy that fishy smell?” he asked, his disgust obvious on his young face.
He looked back out in the direction of the river’s sounds, and made his young frame stand taller. “Don’t worry, Rookfang, I’ll be sure to never go into that nasty place,” he told her, boldly. “I won’t do anything to dishonor my clan!” he added, looking fiercely at the black and white she cat.
The young apprentice quickly followed his mentor through their territory, feeling proud of himself for keeping up. Blazepaw walked stiffly to the foul smelling pathway, making sure to keep a fair amount of distance away from it. He shrunk in terror as a monster flew down the dark path, and he felt as if he would nearly wet his fur. “D…don’t worry Rookfang…I’ll be sure to stay away from this evil place…” he said, his eyes still wide with fear. He hoped his mentor couldn’t tell how afraid he was of the Thunderpath, wanting to seem brave.
"Shadowclan are mean cats?” he asked, looking across to the ominous forest on the other side of the scary Thunderpath.“Why aren’t they like us? We aren’t mean!” he added as he followed his mentor into the underbrush. “I’m really enjoying it so far, Rookfang!” he exclaimed, giving a small purr and a grateful look to the she cat. Hearing her question he quickly stood taller, trying to look strong. “I don’t need to rest, Rookfang! I can handle anything!” he said, his voice full of male bravado.

[Rendezvous]

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The warrior let out mrrow of laughter. "Yes, I assume Riverclan does enjoy that smell. But don't forget that they could easily mock us for our love of trees. Nevertheless, Blazepaw, we must respect each of the clans and their own ways of living." Rookfang had her own sharp remarks about the other clans, but she was always careful to hold her tongue about them.

As she walked, the she-cat dwelled on her apprentice's question. "Let's just say they are looked upon as really fierce cats, with a temper. We're better off staying on their good side." The warrior meowed, hoping that Thunderclan and Shadowclan wouldn't become enemies any time soon. Battles between the clans wasn't something any clan needed right now. "Suit yourself, Blazepaw." Rookfang had thought the young cat would agree to rest, but apparently he was trying to prove himself to his mentor.

Flicking the tip of her tail, she pressed on through the woods. "You don't have to try and impress me, Blazepaw. You're an apprentice, and I'm a first time mentor. We'll learn together." She meowed gently, touching the young tom's forehead with the tip of her tail before finally arriving at the grand old place of Fourtrees.

Gazing up at the seasons old trees that stood guard over the familiar place, Rookfang sat down on her haunches. Gesturing with her nose she meowed, "A great ways in that direction is the moors, where Windclan cats live and this --" She looked toward the large, old trees. "-is Fourtrees. It's where the clans have a Gathering and come to meet in peace every moon under the watchful eyes of Starclan." She meowed softly, noticing that the sun had now settled lower in the sky, casting a orange glow into the sky.

Rookfang got back to her paws "And that is the entirety of the borders, and Thunderclan territory." She meowed as she looked to the spotted apprentice.

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[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw twitched his whiskers in contempt at his mentor’s words. “I would much rather climb my beloved trees than smell some stinky ‘ol fish anyday!” he announced, slashing his tail through the air for added emphasis. He padded excitedly beside his mentor, drinking in the sights and the many smells of the forest around them with the eagerness that filled most apprentices.
“I hope I don’t have to face a Shadowclan cat any time soon…” Blazepaw muttered, looking down at the forest floor. Then, realizing the words that had slipped through his lips, he glanced up at Rookfang and quickly squared his shoulders to look bigger than he was. “Because, I mean…I wouldn’t want to beat them up too badly!” he added, trying to cover up his previous statement. “And you don’t have to worry about me, Rookfang! I’m alright, and I promise to try and not be too much trouble,” he assured the she cat, his eyes wide and, hopefully, sincere. “I’ll only sneak out every now and then,” he added in a joking voice as his nose twitched in mirth.
When the two Thunderclan cats arrived at the place of four great trees, the apprentice quieted down, struck with awe at the grand majesty of the place. “So, all the clans meet here and no one fights?” he asked, looking a little confused. He padded around the paw trodden clearing then turned to his mentor with sparkling eyes. “Can I come to a gathering?” he asked, his voice pitched high with barely controlled excitement.

[Rendezvous]

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The warrior laughed at the apprentice's joke. "I sure hope not, Blazepaw. I would want you to become a warrior as soon as possible, so try to focus on your training okay?" She meowed softly, looking around the clearing when the apprentice asked about the peace of Gatherings. "Mostly clans do not fight, but if a cat breaks the truce during a Gathering, Starclan will grow angry." Rookfang had almost forgotten that Blazepaw was a new apprentice, so he hadn't had the honor of going to a Gathering yet. "Yes, whenever Nightstar chooses you to participate." She meowed, perhaps the hyper apprentice would be able to attend the next Gathering.

"Let's head back to camp Blazepaw, its getting late." With those words, the she-cat padded away from the clearing, looking over her shoulder to see if the apprentice was following or not. It was amazing at how much time had passed in their little outing, yet Rookfang hoped the young apprentice had learned alot during his outing in Thunderclan territory.

Bounding through the woods with a sudden burst of energy, the she-cat called to her apprentice "Race you to camp, Blazepaw!" Perhaps that was the good thing about being a young warrior and training an apprentice. Rookfang was young enough to relate to the apprentice, yet she was mature enough to know he what to dos and what not to dos. Seeing the camp entrance up ahead, she slowed her pace down to a walk. "Blazepaw!" She meowed before padding into camp and gesturing with her tail to the fresh-kill pile. "Go fill your belly, eat with your friends." She meowed gently as she approached the fresh-kill pile and snagged a vole for herself and settled down into a comfortable location, sinking her fangs into her meal.

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[atlas]

How does one come to terms with existing on the pinnacle of desire, the mountain of confusion, the moment of... well to be honest truth sounded far too cliche. But decision? What of decision? That moment where one had to choose which path suited best, and what road was left to walk down. To have the weight of the future resting on the soldiers. That was commanders work, officer's duty! He'd been that once, but how long it had been since he'd taken charge and been practically a general of a personal war. Even then he'd rebelled, gone against what was proper and where he was suited. He'd long since given up making decisions. All it gained him was a residence here, on the edge of the future, with his back up against the past. Over-analyzing and under-executing, that was the life he lived. So what if he lived a bland, mundane existence. He'd had an exciting youth, he deserved a blissful retirement - but no. Of course he was not meant for retirement. He existed soley for battle, the wars against the wrongs in the world. You lie to yourself Shrikefang, in the hopes that all will work out as it should. You questioned one too many things in your youth, and disbanded what could have been great. You've never been a hero, you have no desire to be a hero. Yet you can't let go of military dreams, of hopeful thinking. Raised to be chivalrous in a world that doesn't exist. You're exactly one step removed from pathetic.

So caught up in his own world was he, that the world outside was of little effect. He'd wandered, long since left camp and wandered as far as the borders could take him. He wondered if he might find purpose outside the stiff, invisible fences that managed to hem him in. The the soft, crushing sound the leaves made against his paws was almost like a lullaby, a rhythm he could settle into and not question. It lulled his brain into a comfortable place, a careless alley where he thought not about the vulnerability of his position. That was the great joy of living in a peaceful place such as ThunderClan. The pleasant settling calmed him, even though he took little note of it, and unawares of his own wanderings, the rising slopes and tall trees pushed him further and further towards the heart of his territory. He never quite reached it though, only scuttled out of a line as a stream of water tickled his paws, and he began to make his way back towards camp. Had he been a bystander to his own performance, he might have considered himself drunk on something, like a wild feline, hyped on the elixirs of an unknown magician. He was in no place to judge the actions of others, and certainly without the proper attire.

The gray and white warrior was striking enough, though he could only cite one she-cat he'd ever pursued to tell him so, but he pushed thoughts of Doeheart roughly from his mind. Such had his life been that he'd rarely experienced the softer side. He'd had his mate, but never a child, and he had no family left to speak of. He couldn't relate to the experiences of the common tom of his age, because he'd always been serving - serving the masses. It had been what he'd enjoyed, for the longest time. He wasn't even sure now that he'd give up the bachelor title for the joys of small life, simplicity. He was a complex being, and he could be content with a complex lifestyle of a senior warrior. Shrikefang had lived the majority of his life in service, tied to the masses of ThunderClan who would always need warriors to serve with honor and dignity, who would defend them and organize them into battle. There was no joy in Shrikefang's soul for killing or death, but he had enjoyed the life he understood. Serving alongside fellows who had the feel of brothers, standing upon a lofty rise and surveying the hard won territory that they had brought under a just cause.

He had drilled, since a child, in the serving part of an engine of war, a man in the formations that would lead the charges, not a deputy or leader by any stretch, but a respected and highly regarded warrior of an army, one polished with the ways of fighting, ready to serve at a moment's notice. It was the life he thrived on, the air he breathed in and let go, formation and drill. He understood these things, far better than he understood perpetual peace. He valued himself as the right sort to stay away from leadership or such ambitions. He did not desire it, but when the need for a leader would become desperate and armies called for him, he would answer. The mantle of stress, of decision, this he could handle. He suspected he would crack and shatter, like a stepped on egg, with that kind of wight upon his shoulders, but he never did, and often that had frightened him. For a warrior to break under pressure, to feel and understand the horrors of the world, that was normal. That was respectable. When put into a horrific war, Shrikeclaw did not feel horror or disgust at the world, only a grim sense of a duty. That was his legacy. That was his terror.

So consumed by his own world, he found himself surprised to be back at camp. He paused for a moment, staring without emotion at the homestead of ThunderClan. Refusing to hesitate any longer, he strode within, feeling an empty hunger in his belly. Checking to be sure the kits and queens and elders had their meals, he went to the fresh kill pile only to find that it was empty, the last of the prey already taken. He stood stock still for a moment, staring blankly at the empty spot. He then glanced about the camp, realizing everyone was fed and happy, though one caught his eye. She was a young she-cat, newly made a warrior and bright eyed as any young warrior and beautiful enough to remind him of his gentle Doeheart. Rookfang, he believed her name was, trained by Silverclaw. The scarred tom noticed she'd hardly taken a bite from her vole, and for a hot second he debated asking to share with her. The thought was fleeting of course, quickly deciding against such a thing. Skipping one meal wouldn't kill him - he could take it.

Too late, Shrikefang realized he'd been staring at Rookfang. He averted his golden eyes, though he was sure she'd already taken notice. Silently he cursed himself, wishing he could simply return out with the dusk patrol without a meal. But, he had attracted attention to himself, something he avoided every chance he got.

[ooc] omg i got waaay too carried away with him, sorry!

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[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw flicked his tail in mock hurt at his mentor’s words. “You don’t want me to be your apprentice for long?” he asked, his eyes glinting with humor. “I might just have to purposely get into trouble so you have to be stuck with me!” he added, giving his tail a shake behind him. The young cat quickly sobered up at the mention of Starclan, and his ears perked as he listened intently. “But there are times when the clans fight at Gatherings?” he asked, his voice going to a slight whisper in shock. His tail tip twitching, he then added, “What if a fight happens on the time I’m allowed to go? You need to teach me battle moves, Rookfang!”

Blazepaw felt a bubble of laughter spring up as his mentor bounded away towards camp, looking like an over grown apprentice in her playfulness. “I can beat you!” he called, quickly forcing his paws to carry him swiftly in his mentor’s path. The young apprentice couldn’t erase the smile from his face as he raced towards camp, his exotic pelt flashing through the trees. He had nearly caught up to his mentor when they both reached the camp entrance. He slashed his tail through the air and peered at Rookfang with sparkling amber eyes. “I’ll beat you next time, Rookfang!” he announced, stamping a golden paw in the dirt. Blazepaw smiled at the she cat as she gave him the go ahead to get some prey, but he felt a stab of apprehension at her comment about “friends.” He didn’t have any, really. The spotted apprentice quickly snatched a mouse from the fresh kill pile and padded to a secluded spot in the camp clearing. He settled down with his dinner, preparing to spend his meal time watching the other members of camp.

((This is awful, I'm sorry!"

[Rendezvous]

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The cat let out a mrrow of laughter. "I'm sure you couldn't stand being my apprentice for more than six moons, Blazepaw." The little furball was actually quite likable, which made Rookfang hope all the more that the tom would have a bright future ahead of him. "Anything can happen at a Gathering, but there's no need to be afraid." Hearing his last remark about learning how to fight, she simply purred "All in due time, dear apprentice." There was a time and place for everything, and soon enough Rookfang will be teaching her apprentice what her her own mentor had taught her in her own apprentice days.

Back at camp, she had just been about to take a bite of her vole when she recognized the familiar figure of the senior warrior, Shrikefang. Rookfang always thought that the tom seemed like a grump, he needed to learn how to lighten up a bit. Shifting her attention to the empty fresh-kill pile, she only just realized that Shrikefang didn't have anything to eat. Stubborn grandcat. She thought in irritation. "Hey Shrikefang!" She called, before adding "You can share with me, I don't min" The latter was a fact, the lean she-cat enjoyed helping her own clanmates, and the senior warrior was no exception.

Taking her attention off the patched tom for a moment, she spotted Blazepaw eating off by his lonesome. Poor thing, he must not have any friends. Rookfang could see a group of apprentices giggling as they ate together, not even bothering to ask if Blazepaw wished to share in their company. Flicking the tip of her tail she found herself calling out to her apprentice as well. "Blazepaw, come eat over here." Rookfang didn't mind eating a meal with an apprentice, what was the difference? Age? Experience? They were all clanmates, so who cared about the little tidbits of things.

She lowered herself back onto her paws, observing the commotion within the camp. Cats were sharing prey amongst each other, telling stories, sharing battle techniques, the clan was at peace. But how long will it last? The young warrior thought before pushing it away, not wanting to worry about the dark side of being a clan cat. "How are you Shrikefang?" The she-cat asked the older warrior, hoping that he wouldn't try to swipe her ears off for asking, not that she would care. Knowing Rookfang, she'd bounce right back and continue on with her business like nothing happened. She was young and full of life, even though she had a horrific past with losing her parents as a very young kit, she always looked forward to each new sun.

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[atlas]

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A warrior so betrayed and hurt in his life ought to have a whole slew of trust issues, and yet there he was, walking towards a Clanmate he barely knew, thinking nothing but the best of those around him. Even after all he'd seen and endured, all the lessons hard-learned, he could yet be too trusting - or perhaps this was normal and he was being too paranoid? Shouldn't he be able to trust his Clanmates? He could put aside a childhood of abuse, an adolescence of flight and failure, and a life of ill-borne responsibility and terror. Shrikefang was broken, but he was practiced at mending. He would survive, put meat back on his bones, put shine back into his coat, liveliness back in his step. He was not so old as his scars made him look, but his heart was old. Very old. There would yet be joy in the heart of the fallen hero, though, or so he hoped. The world was full of horrors, many now taken residence in his mind, but he would not let them win. Perhaps the demons had robbed him of his joy, his hope, and vitality, but they would not put him down. He would carry on, as he always had, in a forced sense of duty. He did not have the look of a kind, wise warrior, the long road having robbed him of what façade of gentleness he could yet muster. He had been wildly unequipped for the position as a general of war at the time, struggling as it was with leading a herd from zero experience. His father had offered little example to follow except what he vehemently would not be. Shrikefang hated few things, but bullies were one of them. The leader at the time of his father's betrayal had refused to begin a war with a group of angry rogues, so he himself had been left to the task.

Responsibility made him want to shake. But dutiful to a fault, he had not backed down. He'd made himself into something he was not: proud, sure, fearless. For the sake of his family, for the lives that depended on him, he had pretended to be the warlord they needed. He had led charges and beat bones to splinters, flesh to pulp, all in a desperate scramble to survive, to defend. He had made pretty speeches to his family and to the few warriors who supported him, to paint a nobler face on their ugly reality, gave meaning to their sacrifice when it all amounted to nothing. And it had amounted to nothing in the end, his father beat them. Killed his sister, his brother, his lover, his friends. Demons hunted him, and still stalked his steps. He wondered whether normalcy would ever be something he was capable of, if it could be taught.

He was a little self-conscious in the face of a she-cat so well put-together. Well, very self-conscious, but Shrikefang had always been obscenely tall and bulky, a bit unsure in his own skin. He was the last to think himself handsome, even when proper diet and regular exercise smiled on him. He had once moved with grace, an easy balance to his long swift legs, chiseled lines filled-out and polished. He had once been playful and bright, an awkward but happy soul. Whatever innocence had survived his father's beatings had been torn away by the horrors of war. How anyone could thrill for the fray was beyond him. Perhaps it was different on the winning side, where memory could write noble speeches into truth. Perhaps it was better when taking orders instead of giving them. It was best not dwelled on. The younger warrior could almost be called childish, except that Shrikefang preferred not to think ill of anyone. Typically the grey and white tom was the most over-formal and needlessly verbose in any given conversation, for he had not the casual assurance to be otherwise. He had never been terribly self-assured around she-cats, least of all those who were friendly to him. He was always just waiting for them to discover just what a fraud and a waste of space he really was. He had never learned to be a proper tom, and could only try to figure it out as he went.

He had forgotten what it was, to give up control and be simply a Clanmate, not a patrol leader or a mentor. Perhaps this was where he could not trust. He had been burned and abandoned by Clanmates in the past. Did peacetime, conversely, have room for equals? The younger she-cat spoke to him with respect and kindness, as one would an elder, or perhaps even a friend. And he was the older of the two, but had hardly viewed such in terms of status. Shrikefang wondered whether there was any wisdom to be pulled from his experience. He did not feel as though he had learned much of use, only things better forgotten. Even so, he did appreciate the regard. Off-putting and upbeat as her words were, Rookfang seemed well-meaning and not terribly judgmental, at least. "Thank you, Rookfang," he answered, cracking a small and forces smile. And then his face waxed pensive again, gaze turned askew as he brought to mind his first thoughts of her. He remembered her as an apprentice, quick to release the grief of being orphaned and adapting to the innovative training of Silverclaw quickly. Darkly, he remembered her mother and father, noble warriors, his seniors, that were dear friends to him. Rookfang herself was a spitting image of her mother, a sight that made his heart ache and swell with a strange sense of pride. She was lovely in ever sense of the term, a bright light seeming to shine from within her - a trait that reminded him fondly of Doeheart. He crouched down in front of her, reaching to take a bite of the vole that she'd offered to share.

He considered her question for a moment, wondering that himself. How was he, anyways? Miserable, that was the first answer that came to mind. Then angry. Always angry. He couldn't be sure how to answer her. It was rare that a cat would openly ask him how he was doing - most strayed away from him and allowed him to continue on his duties. Idle chatter was something foreign and entirely unfamiliar, a frightful thing that made room for affection and other pain-inducing things. He finally swallowed his bite of prey. "That's a very good question," was all he could think to answer without lying to her. He looked at Rookfang with a thoughtful stare, golden eyes stormy with thought. "And you, Rookfang?"

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[sweetchaos]

Blazepaw smirked, the expression looking silly on his spotted face. The young tom purred at his mentor and looked at her with admiration in his golden eyes. “I could certainly handle you for more than six months, Rookfang!” he said, his humor obvious in his young voice. “And just watch, I’ll make all my den mates jealous with all the stuff you teach me!” The little tom smiled, his face taking on a determined look.

As the young apprentice sat in his spot near the camp wall, eating his prey, he couldn’t help but cast his gaze repeatedly over towards the group of other apprentices. He couldn’t help but feel a mixture of sorrow, spitefulness, and self depreciation. Why wasn’t he good enough to join in with them? Why couldn’t he make friends with someone other than his mentor? Was he doomed to be lonely forever?

Blazepaw jumped in surprise as he heard the voice of Rookfang call over to him across the camp. He felt his fur grow hot with embarrassment at her offer to join her. He knew she must have noticed his outcast state, and he felt a sudden stab of anger at her for seeing him like this. However, he couldn’t stop his paws from scrambling up to go an eat with his only friend. He was too lonely for that.

As the young tom padded over to sit with Rookfang, he noticed the gray and white warrior who sat near her and shared her vole. Confusion swept over him as he tried to place who the older warrior was, and he felt a stab of shyness at meeting someone new. He dropped his fresh kill beside the two warriors and nodded his head in greeting to the unfamiliar tom. “Thanks, Rookfang,” he said, giving her a grateful glance. He turned his attention the stranger, a question in his young gaze. “Uhm…excuse my asking…but who might you be? Uh…sir,” he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

[Rendezvous]

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It had been nearly fifteen moons since the warrior's parents had joined the ranks of Starclan. Rookfang couldn't remember the faces of her parents, nor did she know what they sounded like or how they were. Maybe that's why she had never spent any time grieving over her parents. In a way, she had been an orphan up until the current queen in the nursery, Owlfeather, adopted her as her own child. That was who Rookfang considered her mother and she was perfectly content with thinking that the dark brown cat was her mother even though they didn't bear any resemblance to one another whatsoever.

She smiled as Shrikefang accepted her offer to share her vole. "Your welcome Shrikefang." The senior warrior was wrapped in mystery which caused a rise in the she-cat's curiosity. Shrikefang had been a warrior long before she had even become an apprentice, so he had to have known her parents. A small part of her nagged to ask what her parents were like, but a much bigger part of her was against knowing anything of her past. If she started to learn about her parents, would that bring on the grief that she never had the chance to experience as a kit? She didn't want that. She didn't want to feel any kind of sadness and not be able to confide in anyone thus being forced to suffer in solitude. "I'm as good as I'll ever be." She answered Shrikefang as he questioned her own wellbeing.

Moving over slightly she crouched over the vole and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. When she heard her apprentice's voice, she raised her head ever so slightly causing her whiskers to brush against the senior warrior's own whiskers. "Sorry Shrikefang!" She blurted out jerking her head up automatically, almost biting her tongue as she swallowed her mouthful of vole. Her fur fluffed up around her shoulders, something she always did when she was embarrassed. "Don't worry about it Blazepaw, you shouldn't have to eat off by your lonesome. Clanmates are supposed to stick together." Rookfang valued her clanmates for they were the only family that she had, she didn't have a beloved brother or sister to confide in, or a mother or father to congratulate her on a job well done. She simply had the whole of Thunderclan as her family tree.

Swiping her tongue over her white muzzle, her amber eyes gazing at Shrikefang for several long moments. "Hey Shrikefang, you've had your fair share of apprentices right?" No..wait..it sounds like I'm calling him old! She thought her eyes widening at the thought of being rude. "I'm not calling you old or anything!" She added in a hurry, her paws kneading at the ground underfoot as she grew uneasy. "I'm taking Blazepaw to the sandy hollow to work on his fighting skills. He's my first apprentice and well I was wondering if you could kind of be there and offer advice?" She meowed, turning to look at her spotted apprentice. "You should be up by sunhigh tomorrow Blazepaw, okay? No oversleeping!" Her voice was kind and there was a humorous tone lying within her words. She didn't want the apprentice to waste time, valuable time that he could be using to learn skills that could mean life or death in a battle between clans.

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