private IT HAPPENED IN SUN VALLEY \ mudpelt

[FERNGILL]

Right- another day, another round of training. Two moons it had been, now- and how wonderful it was to see his siblings succeed so well! Darkpaw was getting really good at fishing from lessons with Reedrunner, Steeppaw was so strong and Iciclepaw was so smart... but Fernpaw, he could not shake the feeling that he was falling behind drastically. He'd caught nothing, won no spar- he could not deny that despite his optimism that he would improve and despite his father's never-ending encouragement, doubt was beginning to set in. This morning had been a particularly difficult one to face with a smile- rising from his nest with a clatter of stones and shells, Fernpaw felt no brightness in his chest when thinking of the day ahead.

Still, he greeted his father with a smile- though his bug-eyes were slightly distant, mildly defeated. Such a look had been building up over time- if anyone could tell, Fernpaw imagined his father could, yet he attempted to hide it anyway with a positive expression. As he followed his mentor, dwarfed by his footsteps and making ten strides to his one, he noticed they were not heading to their normal fishing spot. That, at least, he could notice. What he lacked in tracking he possessed in memory!

"Where we goin', dad?" Fernpaw asked after he was certain they were heading somewhere different, his tiny voice perking up in curiosity. Something different... that might do!

/ @MUDPELT ​

( penned by pin )​

 

[MUDPELT]

When Mudpelt had first been assigned his son as an apprentice, of course he had high hopes! He imagined them on the shore, dragging in the largest salmon RiverClan had ever seen. Or, or Fernpaw taking him down in a mock battle, standing victoriously over him. But alas...his son had proven to be a late bloomer. Where his littermates continued to learn and grow every day. Fernpaw just hadn't been grasping these things as quickly as the other apprentices. So that got Mudpelt thinking...what had come easily to him when he was young? Certainly not hunting - he still struggled with it! His skills in battle came with age and muscle, and fishing took quite a bit of training. So, what had the chocolate tom been good at when he was a kit?

That's when it clicked! Today, they wouldn't be fishing or sparring or learning any new moves. Today, they were headed to a slow-moving part of the river, a spot they hadn't visited much before, for their hadn't been much reason to. Behind him, his apprentice pipes up, wondering where they're headed, and Mudpelt flashes a grin over his shoulder. "Today, you're going to get in the river!" His son would swim! That's what had come so naturally to himself, after all! It had been so obvious and yet he hadn't seen it!​

 

[FERNGILL]

Fernpaw felt his gut plummet at the answer. Through all of the possibilities whirring through his head, that had been an unexpected one; swimming. After Lilybloom's... incident, he could not deny the twist of anxiety in his gut at the thought of encroaching the waters... his paw failed to strike swift in the river, so what if his legs kicked too gradually to keep him buoyant as well? Worry made itself present like a headache, gnawing at his skull and burrowing through into his brain- he swallowed down the fear. No- no, he was with Dad. If he was with Dad, he would be safe.

"Hoh-kay," his words fumbled out, aquiver with the slightest hint of nervousness. This... this would be fine, he had nothing to worry about. Still- bulging eyes glanced up at his mentor, searching his face for reassurance. "You'll show me how to do it, right?"

Perhaps a silly question- for what kind of mentor would Mudpelt be if he refused to demonstrate his lessons!- but Fernpaw, he needed that confirmation. Those stomach-settling words, assuring that no accidents would happen. This would be a lesson- this would be something new. And oh how he hoped, he hoped and hoped, that the waters would be kind to him.​

( penned by pin )​

 

[MUDPELT]

Mudpelt comes to a stop at the river's edge, where its slow-moving and calm. He looks down at his son and wraps a muscled foreleg around his shoulders, beaming. "'Course I'll show you how to do it! Look, I'll be right here the whole time. You don't have to worry about a thing," He trills encouragingly, head lowering so he can look into Fernpaw's eyes. "Let's just start in the shallow water."

The hulking warrior steps forward into the chilly water and wades out until his belly fur skims the waves. He turns to face the apprentice, watching him closely as he follows. "First things first, remember to keep your head above water. You're not ready to dive down - that's more advanced. For now, just stay afloat! When you're in, you'll need to paddle all four of your legs, front and back, left then right, then left, then right. When your left foreleg goes forward, your right hind leg will go forward at the same time. Then when you kick, your other paws will go forward. Does that make sense?" He's probably over-explaining it - most of it comes instinctively, but he really wants to make sure his son is as prepared as possible! He's...little, it can be worrisome to let him dive into the river at last.​

 

[FERNGILL]

Dad said he needn't worry, and Fernpaw knew he had no reason to doubt- so why was there still that gnawing fear in his chest, lurching forward slightly and threatening to limit him? Leaning into the reassuring touch, Fernpaw nodded, every cell in his mind laser-focused on each word that left his mouth. Slowly, as his father waded deeper, hulking form sinking below the water, Fernpaw nodded. This was time- time to prove himself a true Riverclanner, a worthy apprentice! If nothing else, he would try. He would try harder than he ever had before. "Makes sense," he confirmed, subtle nod of his head.

And then, into the depths. The shallows for a bigger cat, but for Fernpaw even this water seemed an oceanic undertaking. Encroaching, he walked, head held high. And then as the ground of the river began to descend out of the reach of his paws, the scrap of a tabby began to work with the water. And with the water he was working!

The kicking- though it had seemed a little complicated when Dad had explained it, the pattern now he was doing it seemed almost instinctual- like some long, long forgotten muscle memory. A grin spread itself across Fernpaw's face, and through his concentration broke the words, "Look, Dad, M'- ghh..." though interrupted by a gurgle as Fernpaw forgot to keep his head above water. It was a mistake quickly rectified, and the sunshine grin upon the pale-ginger tom's face remained. "M' doin' it-!!!" Toward the goal- toward his father he moved, not at all swift but moving! ​

( penned by pin )​

 

[MUDPELT]

Mudpelt is wading out further, but his head remains turned over his shoulder. His eyes don't leave his son, not even for a heartbeat. With ears pressing forward with focus and his whiskers taut, he watches nervously as Fernpaw plunges into the water. He's so little, for a brief moment the warrior fears this was too soon. Maybe another day! He almost chants, dragging the tabby out by the scruff. After all, Fernpaw's progress so far as an apprentice has been...underwhelming. His fighting leaves much to be desired, and he's not impressing anyone with his fishing, either. What makes Mudpelt think he can jump into the river and be fine?

But he's swimming. Oh StarClan, he's swimming! The dark brown tom can hardly believe his eyes! He's taken to the water like a, well, like he had! He rears up excitedly, calling out, "Yes! Yes, son! You're doing it! Ha! Ha ha!" He lands on all fours with a big splash, a giant grin now stretched across his muzzle. The sight is so validating it almost brings tears to his eyes (he's in touch with his emotions, okay?). For so long, the scrawny runt of ginger fur had been an enigma. Of course Mudpelt always loved him so dearly, but how could one possibly look at him and think That's Mudpelt's boy, alright! Steep-paw gained his hulking size and burning eyes. Iciclepaw got his sleek fur and light-footed fighting style. Darkpaw inherited the very pelt off his back, dark brown like the earth beneath their paws. What did he have in common with Fernpaw? He's fiery red, tiny as can be, and an utter failure at two of the things Mudpelt is great at: fishing and combat.

But this here is proof. Watching his son splash unceremoniously but well through the water brings a hot glow to the father's chest. Pride. Gosh, her can hardly speak! This is what he got from him. He's a fish in the water just like his old man! "You're almost to me, Fernpaw! Just a little further!" He calls out, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.​

 

[FERNGILL]

The encouragement- like rising dawn the lustre reached his ears, and his smile shone brighter even through the water. It was no pretty or graceful sight, but Fernpaw did not care- all he knew was that he was doing it, and he'd never heard that brightness in his father's voice before. Not that Dad had ever been nasty- no, not even once- he'd always been nice, encouraging, but never excited. It was contagious, and Fernpaw could not help the giggle that left him. Ah- his head went under again, but he craned his neck up, still paddling through. No distractions, not till he got to the end...

Dad was beaming, an expression echoed upon his son's face, and Fernpaw endeavoured to read him. Just a little further, a little-little further... outstretching his oversized paws, Fernpaw gripped the large tom tight, chest heaving from exertion and thrill. Huge eyes looked up to search Dad's face for a reaction, and breathless he let his exhilaration cascade from his tiny mouth. "Did I duh-do it right?" He felt like he had, he almost knew it- but to hear it, to hear that he'd really done it? He needed it. ​

( penned by pin )​

 

[MUDPELT]

His grin grows even wider, if that could even be possible. Closer, closer his son paddles, and Mudpelt cheats just slightly. Overcome with excitement, his massive paws shuffle forward, his son's paws meeting his foreleg and splashing water over the warrior's shoulder. A jolly laugh rings out as Mudpelt uses his other forepaw to hold the little ginger tom closer, keeping him afloat so he can rest. "Did you do it right?" He repeats, breathless with exhilation. "You were awesome! You were a fish in the water, Fernpaw!" He laughs again and pulls him close, burying his muzzle in his son's scruff for a moment before he straightens himself.

With a smile still on his face he begins to wade towards the bank. "Let's...let's get you to shore, huh?" He breaths, the apprentice's weight growing heavier as the water grows shallower. Finally, dripping, they reach land and Mudpelt doesn't even bother shaking off. He immediately beams down at him and pushes his forehead against Fernpaw's. "I'm so proud of you!" He trills softly, excitement bubbling over in his voice. Just like he had been, his son is a natural.​