nothing lasts forever }} small & whisper

[whisper!wing]

[bg=191d32][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] The early morning fog had just worn off, the vibrant sun dispelling the mist. It was unusually early for a pair of cats to be wandering about the pines, but nowadays the temperature rose so quickly that most went about their buisness well before the searing midday heat arose. Whisperpaw normally loved the lushness of greenleaf, but this season's extreme warmth had even put a damper on her spirit. She could already feel her thick pelt itching with sweat as her paws dragged on the thirsty ground. "Why d'we have to go and train today?" whined the apprentice, stopping to glance back at her mentor with cerulean eyes. "It's too hot..." She trailed off in an unintelligable grumble, knowing full well that no amount of pleading would work against the steely Smallclaw. The pair approached the huge sycamore that laid in the heart of the ShadowClan territory. Whisperpaw vaguely remembered the stories of the elders about the tree; it had apparently gone down in flames when a sudden thunderstorm had arisen during a greenleaf much like this one. One with little rain and fiery temperatures, one with too much sun and sickly, warm winds that did nothing to help the cause. The silvery she-cat plopped down among the tree's roots, extending a claw to poke at the charred bark. "So," she sighed, "What are we doing?" ooc; sorry for crappy post >__<

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[small • claw]

[bg=0f0f0f][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] a6b04b - speaking color 8e926c - good conscience 533826 - bad conscience felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs The midnight warrior was scarcely aware of his apprentice's complaining as he slipped swiftly through the pine forest, heading for the burnt sycamore. It wasn't too hot to train, that was nonsense! It may have been a little warm, but it wasn't anything to gripe about. To become a great warrior, one must disregard meaningless plights. Like the weather. If Whisperpaw ever wished to become a warrior that ShadowClan could be proud of, she needed to push herself past her comfort zone. He would have hoped that after being his apprentice for many moons, that lesson would have automatically founded itself inside of her. Maybe she didn't know, but her assessment was right around the corner... he wanted her to be prepared, as his apprentice, she would need to be. A small thought crossed his mind, was he too soft on her? Moonstones narrowed at the small consideration; he paused to glance back at the fluffy apprentice. He was searching for a confirmation... no, he didn't think so. If he were going soft on her, he would have gave in and let her get fat from fresh-kill; lying around camp, soaking up the sun like a lazy kittypet. A smirk broke past his lips, and he tilted his head. "A warrior must hunt to feed the Clan, and fight to defend it, even in harsh weather conditions. In Leaf-bare, you had to hunt, regardless of the chill, did you not?" His deep powerful voice chuckled, "Training is another duty you must tend to as an apprentice; how will you be able to contribute to the Clan for many seasons, if your skills aren't cutting edge?" He beckoned her on with his tail, while he turned to continue down the moist sod ravine. Below, the burnt sycamore waited; it's sandy clearing perfect for training... normally, that was where they trained, but Smallclaw had found it useful to test out the terrain of other places amongst ShadowClan's boggy region. He eagerly rushed towards the dusty opening, and noted how the silvery she-cat occupied the shady roots of the tree before anything; she was picking away at the old, charred wood with a single unsheathed claw. He felt disbelief crawling under his skin, it made him jittery. So, what are we doing? Over his mind he sifted through everything they'd worked on, from defense, to unbalancing an opponent, to full out free combat and dealing with enemies depending on their size in comparison to ones own size... A brow quirked, a light-bulb lit. "First, I'm going to lecture you some more about life, and then we're going hunting,"

[/color] he made sure to ease on the way he said it, "A hunting challenge. I will watch you from the undergrowth, and assess your hunting strategies. You will not see me. You may smell me, or catch my scent in the air, but I will be hidden and hidden well." He smirked. It wasn't an official assessment, but he wanted her to hunt on her own without his help. He'd taught her how to hunt, and crouch, and he'd taught her the different kinds of hunting techniques for different kind of prey. This far into her training, it should all be cakewalk. "Now," he twisted his torso to lap the fur over his shoulder, "These words may surprise you, coming from a hasty con like me, but a warrior should never be quick to fight. Our natural instincts are flight or fight, and if fleeing is inevitable, you must be ready to scrap your way out of a given situation that requires it. Before either of these options, you should always be prepared. If you go on a border patrol, there is a constant risk for danger," Smallclaw then paused for a moments time to relax himself, a bird chirped in the distance.

"In which case, say you are patrolling ThunderClans border, and you run into a brown-nosed warrior who crossed the line. You should briefly evaluate the vista, make sure they are set straight, and then demand an explanation. Once they have returned to their border, you do not attack. You go on your way and report to Hawkstar. Fighting is a last resort, and as the warrior code states, a warrior does not need to kill to win their battles. Likewise, a warrior doesn't always have to force victory with violence." Watching Whisperpaw with sharp rays, he signaled for her with another brush of his long, ebony tail.[/size][/center]

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[kite • claw]

[bg=191d32][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] "A warrior must hunt to feed the Clan, and fight to defend it, even in harsh weather conditions. In Leaf-bare, you had to hunt, regardless of the chill, did you not?" chided Smallclaw. "Training is another duty you must tend to as an apprentice; how will you be able to contribute to the Clan for many seasons, if your skills aren't cutting edge?" "Yeah, but at least it's slightly better in leaf-bare, cause my fur's good against the cold and... oh, whatever," she mumbled. "I guess you're right." The apprentice perked up a bit as her mentor continued. "First, I'm going to lecture you some more about life, and then we're going hunting - a hunting challenge. I will watch you from the undergrowth, and assess your hunting strategies. You will not see me. You may smell me, or catch my scent in the air, but I will be hidden and hidden well." It had been a while since Smallclaw had done an assessment - did this mean that she was inching closer to the day she'd be a warrior? Her spirits began to gradually sink as her mentor kept on with his monologue. Whisperpaw appreciated the effort that the night-furred warrior put into teaching her about life, but his speeches were so boring! Plus, he was going on about not fighting unless it was necessary, a part of the code that had been drilled into her head since birth. The she-cat's bright eyes began to wander, her attention finally settling on a plump, red-breasted bird that was perched on a faraway branch. The robin chirruped, and from somewhere deep in the woods, another bird spoke back to it. Whisperpaw was startled back to her mentor as his tail waved in front of her. "Uh -- yes, Smallclaw, I understand," the apprentice stammered. Then her mood changed completely, brightening up dramatically. Pasting a grin on her face, the young she-cat changed the subject. "Now can we hunt?"

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[small • claw]

[atrb=border,0,false][bg=1d2e22] Being very engrossed in his own dialect, Smallclaw didn’t notice Whisperpaw daze off into the distance; watching a crimson robin-bird chirp in sync with its like species. His brow furrowed when his words strayed over “unnecessary violence”, as if he were, for just an instance, conversing with another warrior who very much agreed. Though, when he had finished, he thought it over; only recurring as the cloudy she-cat did. He turned to her in bewilderment as she mewed –only heartbeats after he had stopped, Uh-- yes, Smallclaw, I understand, Mumbling, his gaze was suddenly steely; had she been paying attention? He wondered briefly how much she really absorbed, but he assumed that, Whisperpaw, being his bright apprentice, had heard every word. He smiled proudly, his chin raised high. He doubted the other apprentices for her sake, because she was fortunate enough to have a mentor who cared especially for her future; what other mentor worked this hard to train their apprentice strictly to the Warrior code, and guide them through every little technique, be it hunting or fighting, necessary? Chuckling silently, he answered his own question: None I know of. Now can we hunt? She asked eagerly. He could practically feel her excitement rolling off of her skin in waves, and, with his own smirk, he nodded his consent. The midnight warrior was more than confident that she would ace this challenge... she was not always fierce, or perpetually brave, but she was cunning and able. For that, he would not doubt her. His ears flicked backwards, and he turned away from her, to face the sky. It was a baby blue, and small clouds wisped slowly but surely past the brightest point; a diminutive flock fluttered by. They were too far away to be described, but his sharp olive gems did not overlook the furious beats of their infinitesimal wings as they slipped softly, and almost soundlessly past the tops of the pine trees. For a moment, he considered the option that they had settled here in the marsh; perhaps valid prey, but he realized soon enough, that if they had, they were in the sticks. Remote enough that they were probably feasting on fat worms and chunky seeds over in ThunderClans turf. Burning with an impulsive hatred, he flicked his tail for the she-cat to start off. "Get going. You only have until sun-down." His usually powerful voice was low; deep still, but more velvety than rough this time. He remembered being challenged the same way when he was an apprentice (quite a while ago), and failing miserably. He'd forgotten every hunting strategy his mentor had taught him! He would have laughed good-heartedly at the memory, if only he hadn't remembered, in turn, his mentors death. Followed by the death of his family, and soon enough, everyone he grew up with and loved. "I'll be around. He added, glancing at her, before he disappeared into the brush. He circled the Burnt Sycamore, around Whisperpaw, so she wouldn't be able to tackle his location. Then, without a sound, he would watch and weigh her up. 611

[¿ emberflare ?]

[bg=191d32][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] The silver she-cat blinked at her mentor as he outlined her task. "Get going," he ordered. "You only have until sun-down." With a flick of his dark tail, Smallclaw melted into the landscape, with a purr of "I'll be around." Whisperpaw tried to scent out his location just for the heck of it, but evidently her mentor had gone downwind, where she could not pick out his smell. The apprentice shrugged to herself and trotted off, her tail held high. The tufts on her ear-tips stood tall as her ears pricked up to catch any small noises that might give her a hint for prey. Again, she heard birds, twittering their hearts out on a tree branch too high for her to reach. Whisperpaw paused her steps, tilting her head up towards the azure sky. A few branches crossed her vision, black shadows against the bright heavens; the spindly needles looked like cracks tearing the sky apart. Two birds flitted across the blue, a blur of tawny and crimson against cerulean. What if those were the same two birds from before? mused Whisperpaw, her whiskers twitching. The snap of a branch was what drove her attention away. She could have sat there all day just wondering about anything, or watching for any of the various floating creatures that no one else seemed to see. She had been known to do this often as a kit. But, with with a remorseful sigh, she decided to put that all behind her. She was almost a warrior, for StarClan's sake, with no time for frivolous kit games. As she turned to continue, though, she could not suppress a small smile as she saw a leafmouse scurry away out of the corner of her eye. The she-cat had tried many times before to prey on creatures such as the leafmouse, but they were all impossible to catch. However, it was entirely possible to catch something like a frog, and the faint ribbit coming from the roots of a pine had caught Whisperpaw's attention. There was plenty of shade here, as the pines grew large and thick, and the ground was musty and damp. Not quite marsh, but it was ample territory for a frog. The pale apprentice skirted around a tree carefully, placing her paws daintily. The layer of needles covering the earth helped to muffle her steps a bit, but even so, frogs were very sensitive to vibrations. That meant that Whisperpaw had to be extra cautious. She sidled forward slowly, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. She had gone forward a couple more steps before she realized that it was silent. The frog had stopped making noise. Whisperpaw froze, and kept her position for what seemed like moons. Her muscles were just beginning to ache when her eyes picked out the frog edging out from the roots, hopping twice away from the tree, but towards her. It started its song again, the pouch on its throat expanding and deflating in time with its croaks. It was close enough now for Whisperpaw to pounce. The apprentice unsheathed her claws and bunched up her hindquarters tightly. Then, like a wound spring, she leaped, aiming for the frog. It didn't even have time to give a warning croak before her claws were upon it, severing the spine. The young she-cat picked up the amphibian triumphantly, and padded away. She dug a fresh hole and placed the prey in it, offering a few words of kindness to the spirit of the frog that gave up its life for her. Then, she lifter her head, and swiveled it around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mentor. He was probably there somewhere in the shadows. "How was that?"

[/b] she asked, already expecting no reply.[/blockquote][/color][/size]

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[small • claw]

[atrb=border,0,false][bg=1d2e22] Emerald eyes watched from the cover of the moist vegetation; they fell over the cloud pelted apprentice, examining her posture and her attitude. Something told him that she wasn't exactly into it, but the black warrior didn't want to concur to the idea that Whisperpaw was surrendering to her dreamy nature. Silently from his dark haven, he willed her to remember the techniques and use them on prey; for both their sake, she had to succeed. Beyond the she-cat, he could hear a frog croaking. It's throat expanded every other heartbeat, it was practically begging for her to catch it! Go on! She pounced, killing it with a swift blow. He wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly, but he heard her murmur thanks as she buried it. That was good... He felt proud to know that he had helped ShadowClan by training one of their warriors. He was contributing to his Clan; Hawkstar had entrusted him with Whisperpaw, meaning he had faith in the black tom. Enough for him to do a good job. That alone pushed confidence into his hardened, round paws. Little did Whisperpaw know that she was almost a warrior at last, so she would need to show her Clanmates just how much she had learned. Like a soundless missile, he crept along the edge of the clearing, his moonstones watching the mouse scrabble at the roots of the old tree. Diving forward, he scooped it up into the air, before he caught it with one, hooked claw. Thank you StarClan, his thoughts breathed, before he glided through the undergrowth. How was that? Whisperpaws soft mew floated through the air; for a moments time, it went on with no reply. Smallclaw crouched, his haunches as low as possible. Tail above the ground, he prowled towards her. She had her head away, facing a false location. Then he leaped, swooping, before he landed just beside her with a thud on the moist ground. He dropped the mouse at his forepaws. "It was very good! But you need to work on your timing. You could have had this-" he prodded the mouse, "A valuable meal for ShadowClan."

[/font] For once, his voice wasn't deep with annoyance, or hoarse with brusque emotion, it was feather-light and warm. "I think it was the brightness of your fur that silenced the frog," he joked casually, "Maybe next time I'll have you roll in mud." Oh, probably not. But she doesn't know that! He was just grateful that he had his apprentice beside him; feeling close to her, she was almost like his own child. He had raised her for the most part, teaching her his ways, and the ways of the Warrior code. Pushing battle moves and hunting techniques into her muscles and paws; there was no way that she would be unprepared for the next couple training sessions - the last. Some darker part of him hoped that she didn't learn the truth, however.

That maybe she hated ThunderClan too. For what they did. For what they always did. Maybe she would follow in his pawsteps... The sky was dimming against the shady tree tops; the horizon a mixture of gray-blue, purple and orange. It was twilight. Birds fluttered over the tops again, a fleet of them too far into the atmosphere to be reached. The tip of his tail twitched, he turned back to Whisperpaw. "You ready to head back? I'll carry the mouse. Don't forget the frog." Leaning to take the soft creature in his jaws, he cast one last look in the direction of the Carrion Place, before bounding away towards camp. He was aware of Whisperpaw following carefully behind him.

Was it fate? Who knew... maybe not even StarClan knew.

To: "When All The Gods Are Gone."[/size][/color][/blockquote][/center]

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[¿ emberflare ?]

[bg=191d32][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] Whisperpaw's heart leaped into her throat as a cat landed next to her, but she lowered her hackles when she saw it was just her mentor, carrying a plump mouse in his ebony jaws. He dropped his catch to speak. "It was very good," praised Smallclaw. "But you need to work on your timing. You could have had this, a valuable meal for ShadowClan." The tom's mouth curled in a light smirk as he went on. "I think it was the brightness of your fur that silenced the frog... maybe next time I'll have you roll in mud." She could tell by his tone that he was joking, but still, Whisperpaw feigned surprise. "Why, surely that's considered cruel and unusual punishment,"

[/b] she quipped. "Think of all the work I'd have to do to get it off afterwards!"[/color]

The sky had, at this point, darkened into a brilliant hue of indigo, save for a smear of orange on the edge. Night was falling, and while ShadowClan cats had no problem at all prowling in the dark, it was better for them to get back to camp as soon as they could. Whisperpaw was about to suggest this to her mentor when he turned to her, meowing, "You ready to head back? I'll carry the mouse. Don't forget the frog." Great minds think alike, thought the apprentice, smirking a bit.

She loped over to the tree and unearthed the frog, bending down to take it daintily in her jaws. Other Clans sneered at the thought of eating these amphibians, but Whisperpaw thought they were quite good, all chewy with a salty tang. Much better than those hairy, bony squirrels that ThunderClan ate and the tough hares that WindClan preyed upon, at least. RiverClan's fish wasn't as bad - she'd had it on one occasion, after she found a carcass lying near the Carrionplace. Still, she preferred the prey that she had grown up with, the creatures that ShadowClan caught. Whisperpaw loved her Clan, and wouldn't trade it for the world. [/blockquote][/color][/size]

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