// @Gigglepaw @VULTURESONG @Willowburn @Halfsun
The sun is still low in the sky, evident in how cool Forestshade still feels. She can always tell when sunhigh is near, for she's baking in the heat. She has her patrol assembled at the edge of camp and she gives a brief, practiced nod to her group. Briefly, she turns her head, ears flicking to catch the early morning sounds out in the marsh. Turning back to Gigglepaw and the warriors, she mews firmly, "Alright, everyone. We'll just head to the Burnt Sycamore. The trees around there are best for this sort of thing. Let's make this quick work and get the rest of the day off." With a quick flick of her tail, she sets off on the familiar path to the training ground, paws squishing through the mud from the past day's light rain. "Keep your senses sharp - we don't know if the twoleg kits will be around again," She reminds them over her shoulder, ears flattening briefly with disdain. She won't let it slow her down, though. The sooner they finish, the sooner they can get back to camp and relax.
As the patrol makes their way through the marsh and the sun climbs higher, the she-cat can feel the air growing warmer and more humid. "Here we are," She announces, mostly for her apprentice's knowledge as they arrive in the clearing. Parting her jaws, she scents the air and pads closer to where she can smell the lush green along many of the trees' trunks. Reaching out a paw, she presses it against a patch of thick, velvety moss. "This is a prime spot; shaded and damp, just where you wanna look," She informs Gigglepaw, angling her muzzle towards the young she-cat. "You want to sink your claws in and peel it back all in one piece; don't tatter it, got it? You also don't want to remove every piece because it's harder to grow back that way, so leave enough behind to make sure we don't completely deplete this spot for the next moon."
The sun is still low in the sky, evident in how cool Forestshade still feels. She can always tell when sunhigh is near, for she's baking in the heat. She has her patrol assembled at the edge of camp and she gives a brief, practiced nod to her group. Briefly, she turns her head, ears flicking to catch the early morning sounds out in the marsh. Turning back to Gigglepaw and the warriors, she mews firmly, "Alright, everyone. We'll just head to the Burnt Sycamore. The trees around there are best for this sort of thing. Let's make this quick work and get the rest of the day off." With a quick flick of her tail, she sets off on the familiar path to the training ground, paws squishing through the mud from the past day's light rain. "Keep your senses sharp - we don't know if the twoleg kits will be around again," She reminds them over her shoulder, ears flattening briefly with disdain. She won't let it slow her down, though. The sooner they finish, the sooner they can get back to camp and relax.
As the patrol makes their way through the marsh and the sun climbs higher, the she-cat can feel the air growing warmer and more humid. "Here we are," She announces, mostly for her apprentice's knowledge as they arrive in the clearing. Parting her jaws, she scents the air and pads closer to where she can smell the lush green along many of the trees' trunks. Reaching out a paw, she presses it against a patch of thick, velvety moss. "This is a prime spot; shaded and damp, just where you wanna look," She informs Gigglepaw, angling her muzzle towards the young she-cat. "You want to sink your claws in and peel it back all in one piece; don't tatter it, got it? You also don't want to remove every piece because it's harder to grow back that way, so leave enough behind to make sure we don't completely deplete this spot for the next moon."
