Patchpaw's Training [CLOSED]

Patchpaw bounded around the camp, today was a good day. It had felt like moons that his mentor last took him out to check his skills. Today Brindleface said she was going to take him out hunting. He rolled on the floor out of pure excitement then quickly sat up 'I have to conserve my energy!'. He settled on grooming himself.

He couldn't believe that Brindleface had become leader 'She'll be Brindlestar' he mentally corrected himself. He couldn't believe it when Wildstar had to retire, Wildstar had been a marvellous leader. Patchpaw just knew that Brindlefa- BrindleSTAR would be as good at Wildstar, she had all the makings of a great leader. He couldn't believe that he was now being mentored by the leader of WindClan, it had been such an honour when he was chosen to be mentored by the deputy. Now she was his leader, he would have to be even MORE respectful.r.

Jaws splitting wide to reveal a mouthful of pristine teeth, Brindleface's entire body rattled with the force of her lingering exhaustion. It had been another hard night of fretful discussion with Wildstar and Swiftstream, another night spent wondering when the worst of the snows would allow her passage to the Highstones, another night spent worrying about just what these events meant for her Clan, another night dedicated to anything other than sleep. How could this possibly be the right time to change over Leadership? When they hardly had enough Warriors to fill a single patrol, let alone chose a Deputy from? Blinking away the worst of the stickiness from her heavy eyelids, the former Deputy was able to watch as Patchpaw's rambunctious bouncing and racing gave way to a frenzied grooming session.

Attempting to dedicate adequate personal time to a single Apprentice had been difficult enough. Handling three was nearly overwhelming at times- but at least Patchpaw hardly seemed to mind having to share. Striding up to the young tom, Brindleface did her best to shake away the unwelcome chunks of snow and ice that she had somehow wound up entangled within her pelt during her extremely short trek over from the Tallrock. "I hope your enthusiasm will still be standing after we actually go out onto the moor and you see just how cold it gets!" She mewed as she quickly came within earshot of the young tom, features playfully screwed up to paint on an additional bit of emphasis to her statement.

Patchpaw jumped at the sound of his mentors voice. He immediately sprung to attention, the only way this scene could get more formal is if Patchpaw was giving his leader a salute, which he physically couldn't. "Hello, leader, chief, boss... Commander? " He rolled the words in his mouth, they definitely didn't suit his fiery mentor. Shaking off his thoughts he grinned at Brindleface "What are we doing today? Hunting? Fighting? Climbing trees?" He couldn't stop himself from bouncing excitedly.

Although the former Deputy remained relatively quiet during the flood of questions on behalf of Patchpaw, Brindleface's narrow features instinctively creased at the mention of climbing trees- partly amused, partly horrified at the notion of not having her paws firmly planted on the ground. "You're welcome to attempt climbing if you're able to find a tree this side of the river, unless you're willing to take on Lightningstar for a sapling or two." Dropping down low into a stretch, so that the tender underside of her lower-half pressed into the soft crusting of snow that dusted the camp, she could feel the lingering tendrils of tension coil unpleasantly within her aching muscles. Swallowing down another yawn that trembled in the joint of her jaw, she blinked back at the young black-and-white tom. "Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid. It's a bit too cold for us to stay out for very long without running the risk of catching a chill, so we'll just work on your basic hunting skills and make sure that on the off chance we see something worth hunting, you'll be ready."

Patchpaw trembled from excitement, he could feel the happiness bubbling inside him, growing stronger every minute he thought about spending quality time with his mentor. "I'm ready to leave on your command" he said seriously, he wanted to prove he would make a great warrior to their new leader.

Huffing out a watery little sniffle, Brindleface made a poor attempt at swallowing down her body's instinctive reaction to prolonged exposure to the cold. Flattening her ears against her skull in an attempt to combat the unpleasant ache that lingered in the precariously thin skin, the Deputy couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up in her chest at the irrefutable excitement that graced the features of the young tom. It had been a few moons since she held her Apprentice name, but it wasn't hard to recall all of the initial excitement- back whenever the prospect of getting up before sunrise wasn't a fate worse than death. Roughly rasping a numbed forepaw against the smarting flesh of her nose to try and coax at least some warmth back into the practically dead region of her face, she blinked warmly down at the younger cat. "It's going to be quite a bit colder out on the moor," Brindleface warned, voice partially muffled by the narrow forepaw pressed against her face, "But the wind keeps most of the snow away, as far as the highlands go. It won't be the most enjoyable first outing, but pleasant weather is a luxury we rarely get to experience."

Gesturing for Patchpaw to follow, the Deputy failed to conceal a shudder as she squeezed through the protective gorse barrier; during Leafbare, it was hardly uncommon to end up getting an unpleasant icy shower due to how much residual snow often sat atop the spiny undergrowth. The gradual slope that concealed WindClan's camp was hardly steep, but heavier snowfalls just made the journey a bit more tedious and difficult- especially with how numb her legs had already became. It was hard enough to push through snowdrifts, but it was even more difficult to do so while attempting to not stumble over a cleft or protruding rock. As Brindleface and Patchpaw worked their way towards the crest of the ridge, the steady hum of the wind rose to a choppy buffet that whipped and lashed at what little grasses and undergrowth still remained visible above the snowfall. It was colder here as well, without the added protection of less direct exposure and somewhat alive foliage. Although she was hardly inexperienced whenever it came to handling the ruthless weather often provided by the moorland, the initial step up to the top of the ridge blasted the Deputy in the face with a bout of wind so terribly cold that it simply stole all of the air within her lungs.

"Still hanging on? Or has the wind blown you off your paws yet?" Brindleface eventually called out once the ability to breath was returned to her, fur uncomfortably plastered against her sides as she turned to watch as the young tom followed suit in the ugly little trail left in her wake.

Patchpaw could barely feel the cold through his thin white fur, it was as if his excitement fuelled a furnace in him. He looked at the deputy "I'm fine, thanks for asking" he replied happily. He was excited to prove his worth to his mentor and hopefully impress her.

Struggling in the aftermath provided by the shock of the bitter cold, Brindleface could only roll her eyes and swallow down a crooked smile in hopes of preventing anymore systematic shock to the cold. It was difficult to empathize with Patchpaw's enthusiasm for the situation whenever provided an intimate experience with the unforgiving weather of the moorland. "I'm glad one of us is, I feel like I'm about to be blown all the way back to the highstones at any moment!" Blinking back a secondary wave of instinctive tears and sniffling, the former Deputy directed her attention skyward. An inky blot was idly drifting by, several countless leagues high above where the pair of WindClanners stood, a sorely evident mark against the starkly colored late morning sky. If the hawks were out hunting, then there had to be something else out. That would at least give them something to do, and a better way of staying warm.

Giving herself another rigorous shake, which was worth absolutely nothing in terms of providing any further warmth, the Deputy redirected her attention to her younger counterpart. "We're going to practice your hunting techniques, and make sure that you've at least got the basics down in case we happen across anything worth hunting while we're out." Brindleface mewed, teeth chattering slightly as she made the decision, "Usually the first venture out of camp is dedicated to a show of the territory, but it's too cold. That would likely land us both in Swiftstream's den for longer than necessary." Striding forward once more, the former Deputy forcibly reigned in her pace to a brisk trot as she began to trek in the direction of the hawks, hoping to ensure that Patchpaw wouldn't be anymore worn out than absolutely necessary.