JUST A LITTLE WHILE [ flintpaw ]

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Scalejaw had called Flintpaw early that morning. Two things needed to get done, Scalejaw knew. After the fire bugs in the marsh, the fog, and the terror in his face, Scalejaw knew that she needed to drive something knew into Flintpaw's brain. She had a plan in mind, one that would hopefully alter Flintpaw's mental for good.

As soon as Flintpaw was near, Scalejaw rumbled quietly in greeting before pushing to her paws. "We're going to patrol the territory and hunt at the same time." She told the apprentice, turning to lead Flintpaw from camp. She was going to head counter-clockwise, through the marshes and reeds. "Scent or hear something without me pointing it out, you get some points. Kill it without my assistance, points." She instructed. No, she didn't have a clear system or motivation, but her words left no room for argument.

Vision shifted towards Flintpaw. "Questions?" She asked, hoping to clear up any confusion before they began.

@FLINTPAW

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[FLINTWISH]

Flintpaw emerges from the apprentices' den with a placid expression rarely worn on the young, stony face. Scalejaw had called him early. There is some bubble of excitement under the skin, he supposes, for an opportunity to get out and get his mind off of things. But there is also a dreary blanket of something he cannot name. Maybe it is a lingering fatigue from his illness. Maybe it is the knowledge that half of ShadowClan would prefer he'd never recovered. Really, who's to say?

Flintpaw approaches Scalejaw anyway, pushing through the dead-weight weariness, ears twitching as she rumbles orders. As she explains the rules of their game, the slate-hued apprentice remains hushed, simply following in the warrior's pawsteps. She tries not to let the hope die in her chest immediately. Hunting wasn't impossible — she'd caught a snipe when she and Smogmaw had been patrolling together (and still the memory sets ripples down the fur of her spine). She'll hunt, she'll earn points, and she assumes the cycle will repeat at some point. Scalejaw looks to her and Flintpaw glances upwards from shadowed eyes. Questions? "No," he replies, and follows diligently.

The marshes soak his paws in autumn-chilled waters. The young tom can't help the chatter it puts in his teeth, unaccustomed to the cold weather. First he'd survived illness, but now he must survive the oncoming winter. Learning to hunt even in the waterlogged marshes would surely become an essential skill if he wanted to eat anything during leafbare. Surely Scalejaw's exercise would train him well for it? The bubble of hope rises against the overwhelming gloom. A spark of hope; a twitch of the ears as he picks up a sound.

Flintpaw's dual-toned gaze widens as he realizes he's heard something. The apprentice whips their head in the direction of the noise, but through the reeds it's difficult to see anything. They look back at Scalejaw. They could advance, but they have no faith in their sneaking skill yet — so silently they plead for help, for a demonstration, or an example, or something to aid in their success.

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 The weariness in Flintpaw's step isn't something she misses. Glowing orange eyes follow her movements as they step out of camp, but a swift nod follows in confirmation of the lack of questions. So her eyes turned back towards the swamps, navigating the lands she's known since she was a young mollie. The earthy scent of mud, the hum of what animals were still awake during this time of the year.

Flintpaw's teeth chattering caused her head to turn inquisitively, searching for a brief moment. She's still got body fat she needs to build up. Her thoughts murmured, and she looked back forward. Scalejaw would make sure to put in a bit extra work to get the food that Flintpaw needed- hearty meals that would help him finish recovering. Just as her vision swept this way and that, Flintpaw's ears picked something up. Scalejaw had slowed to watch Flintpaw discover and learn, staying silent until his pleading gaze turned back towards her.

Swift as she had decided her course of action, Scalejaw dropped into a prowl and slid past Flintpaw- taking a moment of hesitation so that her apprentice could look at her. Paws spread wide to combat the sinking of the marsh, her ears forward and tail low, body sleek and close to the ground. Scalejaw's balance was near perfect as always, something that fifty or so moon had taught her. Experience? The best teacher.

Scalejaw's head parted the reeds first, slow and steady. Moments later Scalejaw locked onto what Flintpaw had spotted- and she moved like a flash, akin to a viper striking out as her fangs snapped around their prey. Squealing echoed from her prey, before it slumped over in her jaws. Scalejaw stood, turning back towards Flintpaw through the reeds and settling it down on a log that was mostly dried nearby. "Very good detection there." She complimented, but then came the critique. "When we signal we hear something, it isn't just a look- we use our ears, or our tail to direct attention of others."

Her vision shifted back towards him. "When we're in the marshes, you want to make sure your toes are spread. Mud will get between them, but better to be stable then to be completely covered in mud." She instructed, before nodding towards the dead rat. "Smell the fresh scent before it fades. That way, you'll start to learn what scent prey leaves in trails." And, hopefully, you'll be tracking in no time, young Flint.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​