make it count | warrior assessment

[Silverlightning]

War weighin' on my heart but I can't fall

Dawn breathed the beginnings of a new day over the horizon of thunderclan's camp as Silverlightning emerged from the warrior's den. He rolls his shoulders, jaw working as he stares across camp and locks his gaze upon the apprentice den. Today was Mousepaw's warrior assessment. He'd done everything he could to help prepare her for this day, now it was up to her to use the arsenal of tools given to her to pass. A single step brings the sterling shaded tom in the direction of Mousepaw's nest. For a fleeting moment he detects the beginnings of nerves jumbling within the pit of his stomach. A student was only as good as their teacher. What if she fails her assessment? His stride halts at the possibility, faltering for a heartbeat. No. Despite her boisterous personality she'd proven herself more than capable several times.

His pace resumes until it leads him directly in front of her den. Lowering his head, Silverlightning peers inside. "Your assessment begins today. Your goal is to track and find me." He gauges her response for a moment before pulling his head up and taking a step back so she may exit the den. "You have until sunhigh to locate me."

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His final words to her repeat within his mind for the fifth time by now as he lay tucked away within the recesses of a crevasse found at snake rocks. It's been an hour, the time allotted to him to find a good hiding place finally up as he peeks from the hole. He was sure the enthusiastic apprentice had begun her search by now and there were but a handful of directions she could have chosen the moment she left thunderclan's protective walls. Retracing his own steps he recalled rubbing against the base of an oak to leave behind a loose tuft of fur. If she were attentive it would help her to lock onto his personal scent amid the collective smell of thunderclan.

From there his path veered in the direction of the great sycamore where he'd left behind a paw print or two within a thin layer of mud. Finally his final stop rested at snake rocks, where he made a point to roll in a shallow puddle of water to hopefully mask his scent until he found a nook to hide in. Blinking his eyes a gentle sigh flutters from his nose. Now all he could do was wait and pray he did not make her task too challenging. (@MOUSEPAW !)​

Seekin' shelter from the storm on this blank road​

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[MOUSENOSE]

A white flank twitches as a tall silvery cat looms over her sleeping body. Mousepaw opens her eyes, stretching and parting her jaws in a magnificent yawn. She prepares to greet Silverlightning, but he interrupts her with in his firm, yet gentle way. “Your assessment begins today.” Assessment? Her warrior assessment? She stirs in her nest, scraps of moss falling from her shaggy coat. With wide eyes, she dips her head to her mentor, who gives her the task at hand. She must track and find him.

She watches him leave, her fur beginning to bristle with excitement. Can she track a cat who is likely one of the stealthiest in ThunderClan? Her tail quivers, curling up at the end like a squirrel’s. Though the tabby is long gone, she says with determination fiery in her eyes, “I won’t let you down!”

By the time the sun has begun to crest the sky, Silverlightning is long gone from camp. Mousepaw had taken her time picking over her shrew, though her adrenaline made finishing the meal agonizing. Determined, the small fluffy she-cat buries her scraps, gives her whiskers a quick wash, and sets out to search for her mentor. She regrets eating fresh-kill immediately—it’s cloying on the periphery of her senses still, and despite the wash her taste buds are still coated with the shrew’s sweet-ish taste. “Mousedung,” she mutters. “That’s gonna be my warrior name if I don’t shape up.”

They exhale softly, trying to sift through the scents littered about camp’s exit. Gorse, old and sturdy. Oak, sycamore, the faint and spicy scent of pine. Fresh berries on a flowering bush just outside their camp. A distant squirrel scuttles through trees, knocking boughs together on its ascent.

She opens her eyes, her tongue poking out as she concentrates. There’s the faintest hint of her mentor’s scent amidst the chaos, but where…? Mousepaw picks around the base of a few oaks until she finds her first deliberately-left clue: a tuft of pale, shining fur at the base of a tree. “Ah!” Her voice is hushed despite her glee. She crouches low, letting her senses become engulfed by Silverlightning’s scent. Even beneath the ThunderClan weight their auras all carry by now, there’s something fresher and brinier about her mentor’s—perhaps that crisp mountain air that he speaks so fondly of.

Mousepaw sits back up, their whiskers stiff and alert with concentration. They begin their trek again, paws lightly brushing against leaf litter on their territory’s floor. The thickest trail he’s left winds northeast, toward the Great Sycamore, though it fades in places as though he’s scaled a few trees to throw her off. The young tortoiseshell’s paws come to a halt as she nears the enormous tree’s base—and sharp green eyes begin to examine for clues.

“Where have you gone from here, Silverlightning…” She hums low in her throat, brushing her whiskers against the roots of the tree. And there—right in front of her—are a series of paw prints pressed delicately into soft earth. A smile cracks across her muzzle. “Excellent…”

But where to now?

The sun has climbed higher, and its rays scorch her pale fur where they reach through branches and twigs. With any luck, she’ll find him before she passes out from heat exhaustion, she thinks with a silent snort. She travels further east, following a scent that grows duller and harder to discern as the minutes tick by. The earth becomes grassier, taller, and the dry and foreboding slithering of adder skins begin to click in her mind. Scaleclaw had perished here not long ago; Snakerocks is a dangerous place in greenleaf, but she knows, too, Silverlightning has a fondness for the bitter tang of adder flesh.

“He must be here,” she mews quietly to herself, though his scent seems to have nearly evaporated like mist in the heat of the day. Something causes her belly to tingle—is he watching her from one of the trees ringing the stones, or is he fearlessly holed up with one of those awful adders?

She nervously, carefully, picks her way through the stones and tall grass. Every movement causes her to jump—she does not want a quick death way out here, where Berryheart can’t reach her in time. She wants to make it to warriorhood—she wants to rub her success in Moonpaw’s face.

Just when she’s about to be convinced he isn’t here, she catches just the faintest hint of his scent—and then she sees a barely-striped silver hind paw peeking from a crevice.

Mousepaw boisterously clambers over, the stealth she’d donned for the assessment thrown away like extra fabric. “GOTCHA!” Her squeal could be heard for miles—and likely has scared most of the prey in the immediate vicinity—but she’s won, she’s won!!!

✧ INFO.

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  — mousekit . mousepaw
  — she/they, apprentice of thunderclan
  — pansexual ; single
  — long-haired blue tortoiseshell with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Rai

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[Silverlightning]

War weighin' on my heart but I can't fall

Minutes tick by as they slowly drift into hours. The sun stands crested high above his current vantage point, beating down rays of warmth upon the very stones he sought refuge under. If not for the ashen pillars he was sure he would have become overheated by now. They still provide a minor cooling sensation in certain spots, reminiscent of the mountainous range he once traveled. Squinted eyes, gunmetal in hue skim the territory beyond his tiny peephole. Still, there was no sign of his apprentice and he was truly beginning to wonder if he should abandon his post. To call off the assessment and try another time.

But somewhere around him, beyond the outskirts of his vision he hears the boisterous movement of thunderous paws. Before he can turn his head to face the noise a resounding "Gotcha!" rings throughout the forest. The short and sleek fur around his neck prickles ever so slightly. Though it flattens just as quickly in realization of just who stood behind him. "Indeed." He murmurs, despite the sheer pride blooming within his chest. Carefully he backs out from his secluded hole, shaking dust and pebbled grit from his silver pelt. "Well done." He looks down at his apprentice with eyes crinkling with the beginnings of a genuine smile. A rare sight, an expression deemed forbidden within the lands of his previous home.

While his lips did not curl to their fullest extent it did hold a minimal amount of curvature. A grand feat Mousepaw managed to pull from his very being. "I have taught you all that you need to become a successful warrior. And great, shall you be." Silverlightning voiced with a curt nod of his head. But not before extending a touch to the top of her crown. She would make thunderclan proud. ​

Seekin' shelter from the storm on this blank road​

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