something new / forestpaw

Taking an apprentice was a bold choice to make considering she was rearing seven kits and leading a Clan, but with the number of younglings in the Clan it was hard to avoid. So she had chosen Forestpaw, a newcomer, to shape into a fine ShadowClan warrior. She held the outsiders who had joined to high expectations. They would need to keep up with their marsh-born Clanmates, learn the skills they were good at, the skills that were practically bred into them, if they wanted to survive in these harsh lands. The harshest, in her opinion. None of the other Clans had it quite so rough.

Shoving the thought aside, Briarstar made her way to the apprentice's den at the start of a new day. The sun was just barely peaking over the trees, casting the camp in a pale silvery light that would pinken as the morning went on. She poked her head into the den, peering through the darkness for the familiar shape of her new student. "Forestpaw," she hissed under her breath, hoping her voice did not stir the other molly's sleeping denmates. Some mentors had already come to take their apprentices out for the day luckily. "Your training begins today. Come see me outside the den." With that she went to sit nearby, waiting impatiently for the she-cat's arrival.

Forestpaw likes sleeping in. She had always slept in. Being the pampered "helpless" child that her parents never bothered to teach anything to, she never had responsibilities to attend to in the early dawn like her sister had. So when her leader - and new mentor - hisses into the den to wake her up, her first response is to groan and cover her ears. "Okay, okay, I'm up," She whines. The stout molly takes her time in getting to her paws and fumbling through the den, accidentally stepping on one of her denmates' tails and earning a sharp hiss. "Sorry," She mumbles half-heartedly before arriving outside the bramble den and giving her pelt a swift shake. A honed nose takes her to her mentor, whom she greets with a lazy yawn and a swift itch behind the ears. "What's first?" She asks, although her expression appears bored and tired. She wants to be a great, proven warrior, but it's taken until now that she realizes she really doesn't want to put in the work to get up early and train to get there.
It had not occurred to her until now, as she watched Forestpaw slink out of the den and find Briarstar using her nose, that she had chosen a blind apprentice. She had known she was blind, had realized it the moment she had seen her, but the things she had planned for the day involved a lot of sightseeing. That was not an issue - after all, she could adapt her training methods, but it did make her flounder at the apprentice's question. She had her mind set on a tour, but couldn't exactly show Forestpaw any of the landmarks they were supposed to visit. She hummed, her voice filling the void of silence as she wracked her brain for ideas.

She might not be able to see, but scent should do just fine. She knew blind cats had a sense of heightened hearing and smelling to make up for the loss of one of their senses. "The most important thing is for you to learn the territory. This is how we start out most cats your age, but you are going to have to rely on relative location a lot more than your denmates," Briarstar said. Getting lost could put Forestpaw in serious danger, especially with the hidden dangers of the marshes. She would always have to learn her way back home, or her way to the nearest place for safety. Briarstar got up and flicked her tail against the apprentice's shoulder so she would begin to follow. "We'll start with the most obvious places - our borders. We are closest to the Carrionplace, so we will start there, and then work our way down to the Thunderpath."

With that said, she began the trek out of camp.

/ If you want, we can assume they've arrived in the next post since it isn't far from camp!
Forestpaw nods. It makes sense that she should go ahead and begin memorizing the territory. The longer that takes, the longer she'll be utterly useless in this marsh. Her mentor's touch has her moving forward, keeping her ears trained on Briarstar's pawsteps so that she can maintain a close distance behind her. "That place sounds...very unpleasant," She comments. And oh how right she is!

They arrive and the smell has the torbie gagging. She lifts a brown forepaw to her muzzle, trying her very best to block out the smell. "Cats actually come here on purpose?" She meows incredulously, her tail lashing with displease. It's horrible! Why would anyone choose to come here? Mixed in with the rancid smell is the undeniable trace of rat. She grimaces, face twisting in disgust.