BABY SHARK ↷ [ LESSONS ]

[smogstar]

In the gaps between routine hunting and combat drills, there are openings to nurture his apprentices' mental agility and reasoning skills. For prowess in stealth alone does not define a ShadowClan warrior; were it not for their cunning and tenacity, their opportunistic natures, the forest would have seen the clan's final sunrise generations ago. Singepaw and Bloodpaw both possess potential, an innate comprehension and a ruthless will to survive, and Smogstar is keen to cultivate those virtues within them. Only, thus far, their lessons have focused more on physical applications - weak spots to go for in a fight, how to fake a scent trail, staples of any apprentice's tutelage - rather than on strategic know-how.

"Alright," meows the broad tom, halting in a small clearing nestled snugly between several young pine. Blades and stalks brush over his pelt as Smogstar arranges himself, facing the two apprentices with a certain expectancy. "Let's chat a bit, hmm? Tell me what you've noticed in the territory since I became leader."

The leading statement is ambiguous, and largely rhetorical; it's a prompt on which to start and build off from. Knowing his wards, however, he predicts they'll respond with a range from the wildly informed to the blatantly obtuse. Smogstar narrows his eyes and waits.

@SINGEPAW @BLOODPAW ​

 

[BLOODWING]

Physically close to Singepaw for the entire journey, the cinnamon tabby had not been quiet on the journey out to the territory, the natural energy in her thoughts demanding to be shared with her best friend and even Smogstar, should the blue tabby have entertained her enthusiasm. Training with the leader was a great distraction, it made everything in ShadowClan seem normal, even if it would take some time to remember his new title. She had only ever known one leader, a black-and-white that had given their eye for Gigglekit and given two wayward apprentices a second chance to prove themselves. She knew Smogstar would be cool, but... he would be different. Pushing through the sodden bracken and shaking the odd stray twig from her pelt, Bloodpaw breathed in the clearing's air, noting the smell of dewed grass and fresh pine.

A toothy smile crossed her muzzle as they came to a standstill, more than content to train and politely attempt to beat up her bestie and her mentor in such a pretty place. But, instead of barking usual combat and training orders, the blue tabby asked something that caused her to do a double take, blinks growing incredulous. "Huh?" Had Smogstar hit his head? What in StarClan's name did that mean? She looked to Singepaw and rolled her shoulders, half-praying he was just as clueless as her, half-praying he would be able to deduce what Smogmaw was going on about. He didn't ask for what was different, but that was all the cinnamon tabby could presume he wanted to know, else, her answer would be 'pine trees and swamp water'. "Well it's colder for one, leader." Though Greenleaf was still prevalent, she had noticed more rainy days... and more time spent having to clean her pelt.

Her mind pressed further and further into obscurity, brows creasing and face scrunched up as she thought. "Oh, I ain't seen a rogue in yonks either. You haven't been scaring them off without us, have you?"




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