[harefoot + snowpaw] oh you're so naive, yeah so ~

[Kelly]

The soft padding of cat paws on undergrowth could barely be heard in the forest. With the sun high above the trees streams of light pierced through tall trees and thick bushes, giving the territory an unreal look. The light, reflecting off leaves, caused everything to be covered in a bright green look and made the many shadows extremely drastic and dark looking.

In one of the contrasting shadows sat a slender tom cat, his pale green eyes matching the light that flooded the forest while his russet and brown fur only barely blended in with his shadow of choice. Not a single part of the tom moved as his senses unfolded, listening, scenting and looking for signs of prey.

Harefoot had come out here with his apprentice today. The pretty white she-cat could use more lessons in hunting when it wasn’t winter. She stood out like a sore paw. And even if Harefoot was not the best to train Snowpaw in the way of hunting he was still better than no training at all. He could only barely tell she was nearby though, he scent not carried on the wind.

A scuttle of small paws and a root mouse broke his cover, dashing across a stray open patch in the forest. On instinct Harefoot leaped, his small paws crashing in front of the rodent but not catching it. The thing let out a terrified squeal and ran in the other direction, but luck was on Harefoot’s side as he riskily swiped his back leg out, kicking the mouse back toward his front.

A swift bite to the neck and the rodent was dead, hanging limp in his jaws. Pale green eyes looked around for his apprentice, to see if the she-cat had been watching as he caught the mouse. Harefoot wanted Snowpaw to copy him now, practice using the shadows to an advantage, especially since she was such a bright colored cat.

The russet tom growled when he didn’t see his apprentice, stalking over to a shadowed patch in the forest and pushing away ferns and dirt. With a soft plunk he dropped the mouse in the small hole he had dug, pushing the plants and dirt back on it so no other animal could get to it. Having someone (or something) else take your catch was not a pleasant way to end a hunting session.

”Snowpaw?”

[roscoe]

A waste of time, hunting like this. Each strand of brilliantly white fur that graced her pelt prevented actual ability when it came to hunting in any thing that wasn’t snow. However much she may love the thrill of dashing after prey to bring it back to camp, Snowpaw would have no luck on such a bright sunny day.

But, as per her mentor’s orders, the white she-cat went out anyway. She sat back in a pile of high-rise ferns as she watched Harefoot crouch down in the shadows. Unlike her, Harefoot would have an easier time hunting now. Prey wouldn’t see him coming as soon as they could see her.

The young apprentice scowled when Harefoot burst out of the shadows toward a scuttling mouse. He had come from the wrong angle, obviously, and his paws wouldn’t reach the mouse. For sure he would miss the catch, then Snowpaw would feel a little better about the whole ‘hunting trip’ they were taking.

To her greatest dismay the small tom managed some fancy paw work which led him to actually catching the stupid mouse. Snowpaw’s eyes narrowed as she watched her mentor take the dead animal and bury it under ferns and dirt, looking rather proud that he had even managed such a catch.

He should feel lucky, not proud.

Snowpaw was tempted to keep back as Harefoot began looking for her. She could go off on her own and try her own way of hunting. The whole session was just to get her better practiced in hunting when there was no snow, anyway. If she could bring back plenty of prey than maybe Harefoot wouldn’t try so hard to teach her.

But when her mentor called her name Snowpaw couldn’t help but have her paws drift her out from the ferns. “I’m here.”

[Kelly]

Harefoot had begun to panic a little when he couldn’t fine his apprentice. His green eyes went wide as he scanned the surrounding undergrowth for the familiar white fur that would signal Snowpaw. She shouldn’t be that hard to spot, he thought with a half-growl half-whimper.

His head whipped around when the she-cat strode out from the bushes. A wave of relief at seeing her ok swept over Harefoot before it was replaced by annoyance that she had taken too long to come out. They had to get this hunting trip moving so Snowpaw could learn all she could and they could bring back plenty of prey. Taking too long to show up was a bad idea.

“Right then, this way.” It would be smart to hunt again away from where he had just caught the mouse. That way other animals nearby wouldn’t be on alert. “We’ll travel a little bit and then we’ll hunt again, give the animals some time to calm down from that last hunt.”

His paws barely touched the ground as he stepped along, avoiding ditches and rocks in the ground. His head barely turned back to make sure Snowpaw was following. “Keep up now, ain’t gonna wait for you.” Ok, maybe that was a lie. If Snowpaw fell back Harefoot would feel compelled to slow down for the she-cat.

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[roscoe]

“Yes Harefoot.” Her voice was soft, completely obedient as she listened to every word that spewed from her mentor’s mouth. At least he wasn’t a complete buffoon; he knew enough to move on after a noisy kill like the one he has just gone through. The prey everywhere was bound to be on high alert. Snowpaw padded after the brown tabby loyally, green eyes slanted as she glared daggers at the warrior’s back. Oh why couldn’t he see that this whole trip was bordering on pointless? Bringing back prey for their clan was good, yes. But the underlying message here, the real reason for the entire trip? For her to learn how to hunt well when snow didn’t blanket the ground? That was what was pointless.

Snowpaw had already realized her talent lay not in hunting during Green-Leaf. Come Leaf-Bare when all the other cats were bringing back nothing or dragging a scraggily mouse back to camp she would be keeping the fresh-kill pile at least decently full. Leaf-Bare was hard enough to hunt in as is, keeping a full clan fed by herself was definitely an impossible task. But her luck would be better than a vast majority of her colorful (and she meant that with the most contempt possible) clan.

She kept up well with Harefoot. Snowpaw wouldn’t question exactly how hard the tabby tom was trying to test her abilities; it seemed to be too much trouble. She would, however, question when they were going to stop. There was no need to get this far from where Harefoot killed his prey. They did need to go back to fetch it, after all. It was a waste of energy, traveling so far from the burial spot to hunt again, only to have to report back to the spot to ensure no prey was left behind. Besides, the scent of prey here was overwhelming. To not stop now would be passing up the proverbial gold mind, something the white furred apprentice was not about to do.

”We stop… We should stop here, Harefoot.” She can’t believe she bothered correcting herself. Yes, Harefoot was a warrior and more importantly her mentor, but making it into a request instead of a demand of sorts was just… wrong. It was as if she was suggesting they did not have to stop when indeed they did.

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[Kelly]

Lost in his own thoughts as the journey progressed, Harefoot never caught a single one of the negative looks his apprentice was sending him. That was a good thing, however. If the brown tabby had caught the insubordination going on within the young she-cats mind something would snap. Whether it be his temper or his patience for the bratty she-cat he called an apprentice. And if he ended up yelling at or otherwise showing negativity toward Snowpaw not only would he risk having her run off, but he’d risk looking horrible to the rest of FogClan.

Not a good idea.

So he just kept moving along, oblivious to his apprentice as the sounds and smells and sights of FogClan territory washed over him. It was fairly chilly for a Green-Leaf afternoon. Then again, Leaf-Fall would be coming soon. If he looked closely already Harefoot could see scattered bare patches in the high heads of the trees where leaves had fallen from. Plus yellow and brown leaves alike were scattered in the bright, luscious green ones.

So wrapped up in his nature walk, Harefoot hadn’t noticed they had traveled quite a distance. It would be a bit of a walk back to grab what he had already caught, he noted with a grumpy look plastered firmly on his face. Guess they better stop here, if he actually wanted to evaluate his apprentice before they needed to head back. His ears flicked back as the white she-cat spoke first and reluctantly he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, just about to suggest the same thing. Show me what you can do then.”

[/blockquote]

[roscoe]

My oh my, her mentor was oblivious to no ends, wasn’t he? Harefoot just kept strolling on like it was a pleasant day (and it wasn’t, too chilly and clouds were moving eerily across the sky) without one bit of notice to the negativity that was wafting off of Snowpaw in waves that would make the Sun-Drown place envious. Her green eyes narrowed as the brown tabby turned and order her off, but besides that not an ounce of displeasure coursed through her. At least, not obviously. “Yes, Harefoot.”

Taking a deep breath the bright color apprentice closed her eyes, ears and nose twitching as she picked up scents and sounds of prey. It didn’t take long for her to spot the mouse scuttling along under and above roots of an aging oak tree not four foxlengths off. With a deep breath the apprentice crept closer, pressing to the ground but managing to not have her belly cause noise across the dirt and fallen leaves. The mouse was oblivious, even as it stood upright, sniffing the air and blinking. She was down wind, it couldn’t smell her.

And it couldn’t even see her.

She had been strategic when taking steps. Always choosing places where the light was brightest instead of the shadows. Bright sunlight would be easy for her to blend in with, considering the currently snow-less ground. She must look like nothing more than an odd bulbous patch in the ray of blinding light streaming from the gaps in trees. If one with the eyesight of a mouse looked close enough, maybe, just maybe, they could see her. Or possibly she was just over exaggerating, driven by the rush of ego she felt from Harefoot’s approving stare.

She jumped. The mouse fled. But it didn’t matter; her paws and claws were on it in milliseconds. Seconds later it was dead. “Good?”