everything goes on | training

[Moonwhisper]

The camp is eerily empty, patrols and hunting parties out and about and here she sat quietly waiting for her first proper outing with her uncle after her mentor retired to the elder's den; a combination of poor health and the ever creeping moons took him from her sooner than expected and she had fretted over the sudden change for some time. He had been meant to mentor her fully before retiring, but leaf-bare had been so cruel that it would not even allow her this one comfort of familiarity. Not that Raccoonstripe was unfamiliar, but he was sure to be far stricter and more pointed than her elderly mentor had been; especially given his strict similiarities to Howling Wind.

She thinks of learning to fight and its as though she is doused in cold rain, frigid and stiff; thoughts scattered and unable to focus. Moonpaw is not foolish, she knows its important to know how to defend herself less she ends up another victim of a border skirmish but she's also afraid. She doesn't want to fight, she wants to stay in camp where it's safe and let cats more skilled and more confident guard their borders but that was not how life worked. Whether she wanted to or not, she was to be a warrior of ThunderClan one day and he hesitance may very well get a clanmate killed. Even still, she is hoping training today is not combat. Anything but that and she would do her best untethered by her anxieties but she had no idea what to expect as Raccoonstripe had not actually told her what they would be doing. A simple order of not leaving camp until he returned from his own duties was all she had to go by, that they would head out once he was back. Her pale blue eyes flitted to the edges of the camp every time a bramble bush rustled or a cat shook their snow ladden pelt into her peripheal, the tortie point knew she should not be so uneasy simply sitting here but she could not fully smother out the gnawing worry in her heart.
Life was not fair often, sometimes she thought to the peace a life of complacent kittypet drivel might be but found herself bothered at the mere idea of being some two-leg's coddled housepet; even if she was a docile cat herself, there was too much wild blood in her veins to allow such an insult.

- @RACCOONSTRIPE
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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

It's no secret Raccoonstripe would prefer the burden of mentoring be left to other cats, and to add insult to injury, Emberstar had given him one of his sister's kits. Moonpaw had been a skittish thing, even moreso than Morningpaw, and now that her twin has died, the tortoiseshell point has fallen almost gracefully into silence. The tabby feels strange around her, worse than he does around Burnpaw -- looking at her is like looking at a ghostly image of his dead kin.

Regardless, he knows shielding her from the harsh realities of what it means to be a warrior would only stunt her further. The tabby had instructed her to be prepared for him when he returned to camp, and he's pleased to see she had listened -- even if she looks as though she's dreading every moment of their excursion.

"I hope you're ready to go." He gives her a curt nod, devoid of warmth. He loves her -- of course he does, she's his kin! -- but he is her mentor now, and it's his responsibility to ensure she does not become a liability to ThunderClan.

To make sure she does not die in a border skirmish, like her poor sister.

He flicks his tail, indicating the blue-eyed she-cat should follow him, and they slip unbidden through the gorse tunnel and into the frost-laden forest.

Racoonstripe lets silence stretch between them before he asks her, "You don't look happy to be training today." He's fishing for answers. Is it the kittypet blood, making her meek and silent? Is it the grief? He supposes the combination of both isn't helping anything. "I thought we'd just do some hunting today. I've done my border patrol and our fresh-kill pile is low."

He throws a glance at her. "What do you scent?" It's a command, sharp and direct, militaristic. He needs her to be good at something, to show him she wants to be a great warrior. The last thing he needs is a badly-trained apprentice spoiling his chances of becoming leader someday.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Moonwhisper]

Being mentored to a family member had been a mercy at first, she had thought it meant lenience and she felt more comforted by the idea than any stranger being assigned to teach her but Raccoonstripe had very quickly put a stop to those wishful fantasies. It was like he was a different cat when they were out training or hunting, if he was teaching he was blunt in words and sharp in tone, pushy and demanding as she had imagined a mentor would be when still a kit dreading her apprenticeship.
"I'm not unhappy." It was true, she wasn't now, she was going to get to hunt and work on her technique without fear of combat today though she knew it was inevitable. Despite this, she was just happy to exist in the present where it wasn't a possibility for the moment, linger on her reprieve. "I'm just..." Lost in her thoughts too often, still tangled in the past that kept tripping her paws, missing things, missing cats, missing out. Moonpaw blinked away her stupor, shook her head, "Thinking about a lot, but none of it matters." It didn't. She had to stop being so morose and dwelling on things when the world expected her to continue on. Time ticked ever forward whether she liked it or not. The mention of the freshkill pile wrinkles her nose unhappily and she hopes they can at least find a few things to go onto it. Flamewhisker had newborns and her mother...eventually...
Stop it. Stop thinking about it.
"I scent-" She forces herself to focus, ears falling flat and head tilted up; the sharp tang of the forest pine is overwhelming at first but she finds she can filter its familiarity if she tried hard enough-sorting scents like she was arranging colorful leaves, pushing aside the boring and simple ones to find the vibrance buried underneath. "Birds were here before though they've long since left..." She turns, points with her nose to his right, "...but the scent of squirrels is fresher over there. They must come down to dig up their acorns nearby."
She had seen them do it before, dig with their tiny paws with great bushy plume tails twitching behind them to locate the acorns and other treats they had stored before the winter. She'd said it so confidently, but now she was nervous for no reason. He nose hadn't lied, but maybe she was mistaken? Moonpaw's tail flicked, anxious, but she didn't turn to look at Raccoonstripe for validation-too afraid to see the disappointment if it was there.
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