- Nov 7, 2023
- 37
- 11
- 8
𓆝 . ° ✦ On this particular day, the sun shines brilliantly down on Weedpaw. It's the perfect weather for the apprentice to venture into territory. He has been beyond camp walls before. Though he wasn't supposed to and it had been dark at the time, Weedpaw feels confident enough to wander just outside camp on his own. He had not been that much smaller than he is now, but with his new apprenticeship he has a reinforced stroke of courage. Besides, his mentor is still recovering from her injury, and Weedpaw wants to be proactive in getting a move on things. He cannot allow Fluffypaw and Daisypaw to surpass him in training.
Weedpaw makes sure that his morning chores are done before he steps outside, though he admittedly avoids running into any warriors- especially lead warriors or Cherryblossom- on his way out. He knows not to wander far, recalling Orangestar's decree not to approach the unclaimed border alone or under eight moons. Weedpaw has other plans anyway. The black and white tomcat trots into the wood which surround camp. Despite his negligible training he keeps his steps as light as he can possibly manage, though he does shuffle over the leaf and pine litter of the forest floor. He kicks a stone or two. He is by no means stealthy.
But soon enough he does spot a morsel of a squirrel several foxlengths away through the underbrush. It's small- surely very young- and clearly has not yet detected the young apprentice. Weedpaw smiles gleefully to himself when he realizes what this opportunity means: he can prove himself stronger and quicker than his siblings despite not being apprenticed to someone in his pedigree! He crouches down, just like he remembers he was taught when pouncing on moss in the nursery. Weedpaw creeps forward, just close enough to the brush but without stepping into it. He's so focused on creeping closer that he doesn't even register any of the rustling or shuffling he's doing.
Once Weedpaw has drawn close enough, he wriggles to ready himself and then... He pounces!
Of course, instead of sailing through (or preferably over) the brush, Weedpaw crashes straight through it. It snags all four of his paws and legs, tripping him up and sending him head over tail. The only thing that Weedpaw has done successfully here is falling flat on his back and scaring off the squirrel that wouldn't have even fed a grown warrior. He fails his catch, and now he's on his back staring straight up at the sky trying to catch his breath. Fretfully, he hopes that nobody has seen or heard him, and that he hasn't incurred any bruises for his mother to question him over.
Weedpaw makes sure that his morning chores are done before he steps outside, though he admittedly avoids running into any warriors- especially lead warriors or Cherryblossom- on his way out. He knows not to wander far, recalling Orangestar's decree not to approach the unclaimed border alone or under eight moons. Weedpaw has other plans anyway. The black and white tomcat trots into the wood which surround camp. Despite his negligible training he keeps his steps as light as he can possibly manage, though he does shuffle over the leaf and pine litter of the forest floor. He kicks a stone or two. He is by no means stealthy.
But soon enough he does spot a morsel of a squirrel several foxlengths away through the underbrush. It's small- surely very young- and clearly has not yet detected the young apprentice. Weedpaw smiles gleefully to himself when he realizes what this opportunity means: he can prove himself stronger and quicker than his siblings despite not being apprenticed to someone in his pedigree! He crouches down, just like he remembers he was taught when pouncing on moss in the nursery. Weedpaw creeps forward, just close enough to the brush but without stepping into it. He's so focused on creeping closer that he doesn't even register any of the rustling or shuffling he's doing.
Once Weedpaw has drawn close enough, he wriggles to ready himself and then... He pounces!
Of course, instead of sailing through (or preferably over) the brush, Weedpaw crashes straight through it. It snags all four of his paws and legs, tripping him up and sending him head over tail. The only thing that Weedpaw has done successfully here is falling flat on his back and scaring off the squirrel that wouldn't have even fed a grown warrior. He fails his catch, and now he's on his back staring straight up at the sky trying to catch his breath. Fretfully, he hopes that nobody has seen or heard him, and that he hasn't incurred any bruises for his mother to question him over.
✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧
- ooc: —
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longhaired black tomcat with low white spotting. born 11/9/23 and ages realistically 1 week every Thursday. Follow along with his growth here!
