no angst catch a heffalump // first catch

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 08 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

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It's been five moons since she's become an apprentice, - five very long, very arduous moons full of training and patrols and all manner of things that at first had seemed fun but really were much more boring than playing games and lounging about as a kit. With sabelpaws recent catch, stalkingpaw has felt inspired - for more accurately, that awful niggling feeling of petty jealousy has reared its head once more, pushing her to try and catch up to her prodigal sibling. Everyday she waits by the river, wanders the territory, puts all her best efforts int hunting. And yet, her ink-stained paws remain empty, nothing to show for it but for a few red pebbles and carefully dried flowers.

Today is no different, sitting in the shallows with emerald eyes narrowed in sharp focus, she does her best not to move or fidget - a hard thing to do when her mind desperately wants to wander off. But she's going to do it - wants to, has to. Today will be the day, she's certain of it! Of course, she steadfastly ignores the fact she'd thought the same the day before, and the day before that, and really every day she's attempted this.

Minnows and other small fish dart around fast as her eyes can see, but still she waits. She has to get it right this time, or else they'll all get away and they'll have to move spots again. Teeth worry her lip as she gives a deep, quivering breath - whiskers shuddering and pelt twitching anxiously. And then she moves, paws slipping seamlessly into the water as quick as lightning, feeling something small and slick touch her toes as she scoops it up and smacks it onto the shore.

And - she's done it, actually done it! It's not much to look at, but she's made a catch - a sleek silver minnow, and a big one at that, a whole three inches long. She preens, eyes wide and sparkling, tail fluffing up as it waves high in the air. "Look! Look I did it!" she chirps out excitably, her fluffy form practically bouncing in excitement.

// @rosewater mentor ping but no need to wait
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[CLAYFUR]

Watching Bone’s kits grow up steadily, slowly as their growth may be, has been quite the treat. Clayfur trots over upon seeing Stalkingpaw swipe into the water, paw emerging from the water with a fish flopping onto the shore. The black-splashed apprentice picks it up, shows off their catch, and a bright grin crosses Clay’s face. Just like Fern eventually did, she’s getting the hang of it. She’s fitting into RiverClan, catching their prey, taking pride in her catch. Soon enough, Stalkingpaw will be a warrior, a true RiverClanner, and she’ll be fighting battles for her clan and hunting for their sick and weak, and… all these kits are growing so quickly. He feels, for a stunning moment, unbearably old. But he cheers for the young feline, matching her enthusiasm with ease.

"Hey, nice catch!" The fish that she shows off isn’t the largest, but it certainly isn’t the smallest. "Is that your first fish? It’s a big one," he feels the need to congratulate her, to hype her up—she should know that she belongs here, and that any fish is a catch worth celebrating.​

[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[troutpaw.]

Troutpaw and Stalking are of the same age- and yet, Troutpaw is probably blessed with her namesake. The she-cat is as quick as a trout, and often has a good handle on river-fishing. However, she isn't vain. In fact, as she slips from the water downstream and shakes off her fur, Stalkingpaw is catching their first fish. A grin settled on Troutpaw's face, padding over as her tail swayed side to side. Excitement was written all over the she-cats face, and bobbed her head. "That's awesome, Stalkingpaw! You'll be catching schools of fish in no time, I'm sure of it." Troutpaw encouraged. ​

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"speech"​

 

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 08 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

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The girl all but preens in her excitement, chest puffing up proudly and ears drawn back. "yup! irst one, 'cause I'm not very good at it yet" not that she's let it get her down - or at least, she doesn't think it has. Sure, she'd been a bit jealous of her sister - but still! "It is, isn't it? I bet it'll feed the kits really well!" she says eagerly in response to the warriors word, head bobbing frantically. Troutpaw is quick to join them as well, and emerald eyes only widen further. "Really? You think so? I bet your waaaay better at it though troutpaw,"

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[CLAYFUR]

The apprentice is proud of their catch, as they should be, and the white-patched warrior is glad that Troutpaw shares Stalking’s enthusiasm. The black and white apprentice confirms that this is her first catch; Clayfur’s grin only grows brighter. "Oh, that’s awesome! I remember when I caught my first fish." And truth be told, he does. He remembers it like it was just yesterday, dragging a paw through the water and hooking claws into the scales of a pathetically small fish. "I’m sure the kits are going to love it. They’ll probably think you’re, like, so cool for catching such a good fish for them," he says, nodding toward her fish as she says that Trout is probably a better fisher than her.

He wonders if they’re anywhere close in terms of skill. He doesn’t know either of them too well, but neither seems particularly bad at anything that they do. Orange-striped fur and shining aqua-green eyes flash through his mind, and he frowns at the thought. Some apprentices simply grow slower than others, and there’s nothing wrong with that.​

[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[dovethroat.]

Dovepaw was the most senior apprentice left in the clan—as far as he knew, anyway. He was nearing on thirteen moons, and his warriorhood had been delayed more than once (though perhaps not exactly twice; one a half times, perhaps?). As such, he kept idle tags on many of the apprentices, even if he was not close with them. Being older than practically all of them meant that he frequently found himself completely unsure of what they should even talk about, and Dovepaw had been even less talkative than normal since—well, it had been a few things. Observing, analyzing, and cat-watching was a good way to pass the time. It wasn't like he told anyone about it.

He is not an absolute scrooge, though. Dovepaw managed to be polite, well-mannered, and not outwardly snapping at people. Most of the time—he had a bad day here and there. Ergo, he was quite happy for Stalkingpaw.

"C-Congrats," he says softly, a smile playing subtly across his maw. "Y-You are cool." He makes a point to agree with Clayfur. "You're y-younger than I w-was when I got my f-first catch."

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