private the trail we blaze — antlerpaw

[CLAYFUR]

Having an apprentice is immensely gratifying, he thinks. It shows that Cicadastar trusts him—or, at least, thinks he’s capable enough to help train the next generation of RiverClan’s warriors. It’s a responsibility that he doesn’t take lightly, despite his remarkably reckless nature at times. And not only has he been entrusted with an apprentice, he’s been entrusted with the apprenticeship of Willowroot’s child. It’s kind of unbelievable, actually—but it’s real, and Clayfur can hardly stop smiling.

He isn’t going to go easy on them. As untroubled as he may act, Clay is well aware of the dangers that simply existing outside of camp can pose. Antlerpaw might have been outside of camp before with their parents, Clay isn’t certain, but the first thing he wants to teach his apprentice is the territory’s layout. Knowing where is safe and where is not is essential—especially with the rivers so high, he would hate for his new apprentice to wander directly into the floodwaters unprepared.

He doesn’t want to cross any rivers until he’s sure that Antlerpaw is comfortable swimming, so he finds himself leading them first toward the gorge. It’s perhaps the area of the territory with the most potential for danger—but even the clan’s kits are surely aware of that by now, given how their camp has moved so close to it. "Don’t get too close," he calls out, turning to look over his shoulder at the smoky black cat. "We’re staying at least tail-length away. Do you know what clan lives on the other side of this gorge?" His words are curious, as though he truly doesn’t know the answer, but his expression is pinched as he glances to his apprentice. It’s best that they get started on WindClan’s threats before anything else.

// @ANTLERPAW
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[ANTLERPAW]

When Antlerpaw woke up that morning, they near turned right back around and pretended to be asleep. They'd do the whole routine. Murmur in vaguely sleepy noises, "five more minutes mom" said to someone who was neither of their parents, a limp body implying deep, deep sleep. But, they thought, that was rather kit-like behavior. As much as the black smoke was nervous for their new list of responsibilities, they were not a kit anymore. Perhaps the first step to adulthood was no longer pretending you were too tired to do things.

And their siblings were decidedly more excited than they were. That felt bizarre, given the frequent history of Antler pushing and begging said siblings to join in on little kit adventures alongside them. They couldn't back down now . So they awoke, they left their new den, and they faced their new mentor. As they had determined on the day of the meeting, Clayfur was definitely not the worst of mentors. In fact, he would probably have been amongst the young ones first picks! Silver linings abound!

The anxious attitude very quickly dissolved upon realizing what this first session between mentor and apprentice would be. An adventure. Outside of the camp... While they were sure their parents would've allowed them a little trip out and about under normal circumstances, their ktihood had been one of a cold winter and outrageous flooding. This would be a first. An amazing, incredible, life-changing first. The change in demeanor was probably obvious to anyone who could witness them, as they went from dragging their paws in worry to a tail whipping around and paws kneading at the ground beneath them. They could barely contain themself.

Once out on the adventure, Antlerpaw followed with keen interest and delight. Their eyes were wide, and they listened eagerly for both Clayfur's words and maybe some fun little critters they could spot. Once they approached the gorge, however, their eyes no longer lingered around in search of fun creatures, and solely attempted to peer over the edge. That was.... a long way down. Kinda cool....

"Don't get too close! Right!" they affirm with a strong, overenthusiastic nod of the head, enunciating the already chirpy tone of voice. Though it hid a small level of eagerness to get closer, observe further. And then a question was asked of them. Though the intent may not have been to fool the young cat, it certainly did, and Antlerpaw contemplated very seriously as to help Clayfur solve this little mystery. This was Ant's first big responsibility! This was a pivotal moment! Help their mentor! If they got it right, if they did well, perhaps apprenticeship wouldn't be too bad. "It's, uh..." the cats across the gorge... "Oh! The fast ones!"

Maybe not the most eloquent of answers. But it was a start.​

penned by tuna​

 

[CLAYFUR]

The apprentice responds eagerly to his warning, and Clay releases a soft sigh of relief. It would be a tragedy to lose Antlerpaw to something as preventable as death-by-gorge during their very first training session. Still, he shifts closer to the smoky black cat, putting himself in position to leap—to grab the apprentice if they happen to step nearer to the edge. He thinks Antler is a good kid, so he isn’t concerned about them disobeying, but they do seem very curious.

Their curiosity is something to be praised, to be nurtured. Too many warriors become jaded, lose the sense of excitement that everything new brings to them. Especially in the harsh times of ice and snow, amidst high waters and a drowned camp, keeping up one’s childlike spirit is more important than ever. Someone’s got to keep the clan from sinking into the rivers of gloom.

Clay already feels so proud of his apprentice, prepared to defend them from anything that could pose a threat to their happiness. Is this what Clearsight feels toward Gillpaw? He hopes that he’ll be a good mentor, someone who Antlerpaw can trust in even when they’re fully grown.

Antler responds to the question with hesitation, unsure of their answer. It’s a stark reminder of their naïvety, growing up caged within the bounds of RiverClan’s camp. But Clayfur nods back eagerly, white paws kneading at the dirt below him. "Yeah, the fast ones! They’re called WindClan, and they’re super quick, and they live in tunnels." Their relatively small statures are also an interesting fact, but that isn’t exactly a common factor among WindClanners. He thinks of Weaselclaw—tall, willowy tom with enough power to take a battle trophy from Smoke’s own face.

He tilts his head to the side until it pops, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension that’s settled there. "They’re RiverClan’s enemies. Their leader, Sootstar, is a bloodthirsty tyrant who wants us all dead," he says, voice growing brittle toward the end of the statement. He hates WindClan and all its mindless, loyal fools that call themselves warriors. "Anytime you see a WindClanner on the other side of the river, you should be wary. Oh, also—have you seen the bridge yet?"
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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