such good weather... not. [open]

[thistle.]

The river had risen alarmingly over the past couple weeks. Rain had poured from dark gray clouds, but the sun's rays were weak and did little to warm the earth. And the ice was melting, which only added to the abundant water supply. Well, the she-cat couldn't complain; what could anyone do about the weather? She would probably think differently in mid-green-leaf anyway, when the sun beat down on the Clans endlessly and the water in rivers tasted like dirt. Sleetwhisker sighed, shook her head, and padded closer to the stream to get a better look.

Dark silver water, made gray from the foggy sky, lapped at her paws. The air was almost as misty as FogClan's territory. Of course, she had never fully explored that place, but somethings were rather obvious. Anyway, the fog wasn't much of a problem, although it did obscure her sight sometimes.

Sleetwhisker looked back down at the river.
Should she try and fish? The water was so choppy already that if she jumped in and swam around, it wouldn't be much of a difference to the marine creatures living in it. Well, she couldn't go back to camp empty-pawed. Flicking out a forefoot, she waited for the usual silver glitter of scales to reveal itself. It took a couple of minutes, but in the end she spotted one and snatched it out of the stream, killing it quickly.

A rustle behind her made her jump, however, and she turned quickly to search for the source of the noise. Was it prey, friend, or foe? The warrior, just to make sure, called out, "Who's zere?"

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Was it just her, or someone have it in for her today?

First, she'd been woken up by her bedding squelching and a spurt of water hitting her in the face. Not fun. Then, she'd gotten mud on her ear. Whee. And finally, having trekked all the miserable way out here in the hopes of maybe catching some decent prey, all she found was a small, bony shrew, which she'd stepped on by accident, all the rain having hidden its scent from her until she'd been on top of it. Honestly. She didn't see how anycat believed that StarClan had any power, when life got as pathetic as this. She didn't even have a friend to talk to with. That would have made everything better. But no, Duskpaw the freak walks alone.

Or at least, so she thought.

A voice called as she bumbled through a bush, making a rustle...she knew that voice! Now where was the appearance she knew to place it....? Snow-whisker? No, Sleetwhisker. That was the oddly accented warrior's name.

And now, presumably, she had to talk to them. This wouldn't have been so bad if she could think about more than her current miseries.

"Just Duskpaw, the grumpy, wet apprentice."

And for very little reason at all, she giggled.

[thistle.]

Sleetwhisker's facial expression instantly softened when she spotted the young tortoiseshell, but only for a heartbeat; the next second she was as stone-faced as ever. The apprentice had no right acting so despondent, when there were tasks to be carried out and done. She could at least be doing something useful, like hunting. It did occur to Sleetwhisker that she might've been trying to before they met, but with the racket Duskpaw was making, it seemed unlikely. And so, she began one of her dreaded lectures.

"You should not vallow in your own mizeries, Duzkpaw. Concentrate on feeding your Clan, and even if you are not happy, your Clan mates vill -- is zat all you caught zees day?" The she-cat's ocean-blue eyes were fixed on Duskpaw's miserable catch, a tiny shrew. At least she managed to hunt a plump fish. For StreamClan's sake, apprentices were supposed to have more energy than warriors! She sighed, shaking her head. "Duzkpaw, are you all right today? Vould you like it eef ve vent hunting togezzer? Then you might be able to help your Clan instead of slacking off like you are now." Her sharp tone, which at first had not been present, returned once more as she reached the end of her sentence.

ooc: ... short. /hides in shame

[Cloud of Diamonds]

This warrior confused Duskpaw. She looked kind, then spoke harshly, then was kind for a second, then harsh again. It reminded the tortoiseshell of her own mood swings.

And irritated though she was at the senior she-cat's words, she couldn't find it in her to muster much anger. Annoyance, yeah, but she could deal with that. It was what might be a mood swing of sadness coming on that she was worried about. She felt it approaching, like a fox after a rabbit - it was coming, but not yet here. Presumably something would set it off and then she'd be useless.

So might as well enjoy this while she could! Oh goody, other emotions like shame. Fun.

"Yeah...and it's my fault." She hung her head. She'd never honor Darkstorm's memory like this. Duskpaw didn't really remember her mother, but she was sure she would be frowning in disapproval like Sleetwhisker. Oh Cat Gods. That was it. Her mother. The thought caused delayed sadness, self-anger, blame, and hurt to come flooding out: a re-visitation of her worst memories and emotions.

It just had to come now, didn't it?

"I s'pose we could...it's not like I can do any worse, is it?" She smiled weakly. Yay my fail social skills, Cloudstar's apprentice glumly thought.

Stupid Duskpaw. Stupid, worthless, freaky Duskpaw.

A voice in her own head tormented her.

[thistle.]

Sleetwhisker chose to be tactful at that moment and didn't reply to the apprentice's first comment. But she did answer her second one. "No, you couldn't," she said, a small smile playing on her face. "Now let's hunt and hope for prey." She tucked her fish underneath a dripping bush, a good distance away from the lapping waters of the stream. Waving her tail, the elderly warrior turned and padded back into the forest, leaving the cold, dreary river behind.

The first thing she noticed was the musky scent of squirrel. Of course, the mist concealed its scent slightly, so it took a little longer than normal to find where the fluffy-tailed rodent was hiding itself. It was crouching behind a short shrub, barely a fox-length away. Sleetwhisker glanced back, gave a quick nod, and began to stalk her prey. The poor squirrel was oblivious to her presence until it was almost too late. It stiffened, then leaped away from her with squeaks of surprise. The squeaks became shriller as she grabbed it with her claws, ending abruptly when teeth met throat. Sleetwhisker stood there in a tense position, as though waiting for it to spring to life again, but it was still. She gave a triumphant purr and padded back to Duskpaw with the squirrel dangling from her mouth.

"That-," she said, placing the squirrel onto the muddy earth, "-is what you need to do if you expect to win your Clan mates' respect."

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Depressed, the tortoiseshell could only watch dumbly as Sleetwhisker did it perfectly. She was reminded, again, of how hopelessly incompetent she was. She'd even felt regret over killing that shrew by accident. Win her Clanmates' respect? She almost laughed. Like that would ever happen. She couldn't even make a friend without screwing up, let alone having anyone's respect.

"I wish, Sleetwhisker. It's all I can do to not be a laughingstock every day. And...I have a problem killing anything with fur." She squirmed while saying it, though she said in a normal voice, with no self-pity. She'd given that up long ago, but still could not meeting the warrior's eyes. No doubt she was in for another grilling.

But it was the truth. She hated killing another creature, because even though it wasn't someone dear to her dying, it was still death. Still a furry animal like a cat, who had died just like Darkstorm. Just like Gingerkit, probably. The apprentice hung her head. And they were gone like fresh-kill. Gone forever.

No one had eaten them. No one had killed them. No one had shunned them and left them to die. No. It had been her fault. All her fault.

In a sense, she was just as much a murderer as a cold-blooded rogue.

No wonder her Clanmates shunned her. She was despicable. Utterly despicable.

Duskpaw closed her eyes as pain and sorrow welled up inside her.

[thistle.]

Was Duskpaw joking? She had to be. Sleetwhisker didn't like frivolity, so if she was, then the calico wouldn't get the laugh she probably expected. If she was just kidding. With a raised eyebrow, she said sharply, "Vat do you mean, you can't kill vurred prey? Zat makes no zense; all the cats I've known-and I know a lot-hunts all types of prey. Ve can't avvord to be choozy, Duzkpaw. You can catch fish, am I correct?"

The gray-pointed she-cat thought for a minute, then said with suppressed alarm, "You do know how to, right? Hunt mice and voles and such?" Sleetwhisker scrutinized the depressed-looking apprentice. What kind of cat couldn't hunt animals with fur? It was abnormal. Perhaps something in her past had triggered that, but she really couldn't imagine what.

"Oh, just try once, Duzkpaw. I'm very sure you'd be able to; avter all, you are Cloudstar's apprentice, and he's a very good mentor. Good enough to be a leader, but ov' course you already know zat." Her last comment was not meant to be overly funny, but maybe it would lift her spirits up. Somehow. It was too clear that she needed it.

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Duskpaw smiled a little. Not a lot, but enough so that she opened her orange eyes and had just a bit more strength to go through the ordeal to come.

At least Sleetwhisker was being nice about it. The apprentice sighed in relief.

"Well, I can, but it's hard for me. This is going to sound dumb, but when I kill something with fur - a mouse, a vole, a shrew - I feel like I'm killing an animal that had something in common with - with cats who died. So I feel bad." The black and orange apprentice mumbled, shuffling her paws.

"I know, I know." She sighed. "I know we can't afford to be choosy. I just don't like killing them, or even eating them much. Fish and birds, no problem. But yeah...I can hunt them, though I'm not real good at it...I'm babbling, aren't I?" Urgh. But Sleetwhisker's last comment...Duskpaw half smiled, though it was a smile tinged with sadness and a feeling of not being worthy. "He's great. I wish I could be half the warrior he is."

And half the respected and popular cat he is...

"I'll...just try. Maybe you can give me some pointers after." The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. But what was done was done. She walked a few pawsteps, then looked around.

She opened her mouth. Many scents, though few of them fresh...wait. Was that...a chipmunk? They were so cute...but, prey was prey, she remarked grimly. The StreamClanner became absolutely quiet, trying to pinpoint the animal's location. It seemed to be over to her left somewhere...immediately dropping into a hunting crawl, she listened and heard a faint noise of nibbling, sure enough.