Fish ARE Food (Starlingpaw training)

[Stagshadow]

Ahh, the streams. It was close enough to camp so that Starlingpaw wouldn’t really have a chance to wake up fully. Glancing to the east, Stagshadow’s leafy eyes absorbed and shone with the warm reddish and purplish hues of the pawtips of dawn invading Silverpelt. He stretched and flexed his claws, then shook himself off and tossed a bored glance over his shoulder to see if his apprentice was keeping up, though the answer didn’t truly matter to him. Keeping his distance somewhat from the water, the behemoth deputy’s gaze flicked down to glimpse a bevy of fish squirming and swimming about, blissfully unaware of the predatory pair waiting above, even if one was a silly, foolish tyro. No doubt, if they caught a glimpse of the felines, the fish would try to take asylum in some other part of the waters connected, and it was no use attempting to catch a fish once it slipped away. That was something Starlingpaw would have to learn, plus the fact that prey always warned each other to be chary.

The reason that Stagshadow always taught hunting first and continued to sprinkle it throughout the training was that it was what he viewed to be the most important to know. Hunting was the foundation of living: it was how one got food, it taught a cat to be able to willingly sink claws and fangs into flesh, and it gave a cat essential stealth and logic skills. It taught patience, caution, and watchfulness. Fighting was, in essence, hunting, but, instead of tiny edible things, other cats. Fighting could always wait; hunting needed to be done and was far more important for survival, especially if one was quick enough to flee. Oh, yes, and Stagshadow also loved to have his apprentices grow the most by having them do stamina runs and strength training sorts of things. He was definitely not the nicest mentor, but he was one who tried to keep his apprentices well trained and the Clan protected. There was nothing more important to Stagshadow than his duty to RiverClan and its safety and wellbeing.

Surprisingly silently, the massive tomcat slunk toward the edge of the water and sat, positioning himself so that his shadow was nowhere near the water he planned to be using for the Starlingpaw’s education. With a flick of his tail tip, Stagshadow lifted his head so that his chin was parallel to the ground and stared with his deep green eyes toward the lethargically rising sun. It would seem that his apprentice was the same way, from all that he had noticed, when she wasn’t getting into trouble or being angry at her family. Oh, yes, Stagshadow was no fool: he actually was quite keen and picked up on things easily. He says nothing as he awaits the black she-cat. Yes, he had awoken her startlingly and suddenly and somewhat harshly, but that was no excuse to lag behind so much that Stagshadow was finding it to be a lagging pace she attempted to set (or rather, that she couldn't keep up with his rigorous one).

OOC: Sorry it's so... bleh D:!! It'sbeenawhile,andI'mrusty;_;

[starlingpaw.]

The dream had been of Blackpaw. Of course it had been. Now that she was already awake before the crack of dawn, she couldn't remember a thing about it. All that she could think of was a blur, and for once she wasn't surprised. It had been a half moon since her brother's death. She still couldn't shake the fact that he was dead. Again and again she had to tell herself that she'd never see Blackpaw again. He was gone. That abused, bloody scrap of meat when she'd last seen him left. A snarl replaced her grim frown on her face as she tried to run after her mentor. He had been killed from another cat. Blackpaw wasn't the type to cause trouble - especially not lately - so Starlingpaw believed that it was an unprovoked attack. Who would want to kill an innocent young apprentice in the middle of his own territory? Pain pierced her heart, hurting so much that she stopped to crouch over the thin layer of snow. Blackpaw was dead. How could she go on without him? It wasn't fair! He was just nearing his eighth moon when some fox-hearted brute took his life away. Mixed emotions crossed her light blue eyes - worry, fear, anger, depression. Some day, the cat that had slain her brother would pay. Darkthorn, her father, had even agreed to her revenge. She remembered it like it was just yesterday. It felt like it. She was returning from the horseplace, her father by her side, after she'd forgiven him for his wrong-doings in the past. She ran ahead of him, then smelled her brother and blood. That was when she saw Blackpaw. Mangled. Tortured. Bleeding. Throat ripped out. The horror of it all made her sick. And she suffered the pain alone, since all she saw of Darkthorn was when he was with his new family nowadays. It seemed the rest of the Clan had already forgotten Blackpaw. Traitors. Why had she believed that they would take justice to the killer?

Before she'd left, Stagshadow had woken her shortly before dawn. Sleepily, also after her mentor left, she told Blackpaw that she was leaving already, but then an icy shock told her that he was dead. Dead. His nest was still there too, and she'd insisted that it never to be slept on. She'd crawled over to his spot and cuddly to it for a moment, catching a faint whiff of him. She hadn't even payed attention to see if her denmates were watching. Truthfully, she didn't care for once. In her usual mood, she probably would have spun around and spat, "What are you guys looking at, mange-pelts?" But uncharacteristically, she was kind by not speaking at all. She wondered if the other cats were noticing her absence of personality.

Starlingpaw looked up from where she slouched, realizing that Stagshadow was already kneeling by the stream, his shadow carefully placed so that it didn't fall over the water and alert the fish. For once, she felt like walking out on him. Just leaving him, crouching over the water, until he got irritated and started to look for her. But she'd get in huge trouble with not only him, but Crimsonstar herself. And she didn't want to. Something about those bright deathberry red eyes terrified her. So she caught up to him, her heart feeling like it was in her stomach. She leaned down next to him in his same position, care to tread lightly so she wouldn't scare away the prey. If that even mattered when hunting fish, the loudness of footprints. She looked into his green eyes with sadness. When she realized that her emotions were beginning to show, she shook herself lightly. She didn't want to appear weak, especially toward her mentor. Loosing a littermate will make you be weak, a small, niggling voice uttered in her mind. Dully, she admitted, "My apologizes, Stagshadow. I didn't get much sleep last night, so my legs were still tired." Wow. Starlingpaw apologizing. Shocker! But she wasn't feeling much like herself, as she hadn't been in the past half moon. And it was very unlikely for her - the stern, hard-headed, cold apprentice - to be making excuses. But here she was. She was well aware that she was lying to her mentor, her deputy, her 'friend'. She had gotten enough sleep last night - in fact, more than she had gotten in a long time. But the reality of Blackpaw being dead still shocked her. Starlingpaw folded her ears onto her skull, hoping that the deputy could tell she truthfully was sorry. And not that she was lying to him.