This ain't the garden of eden [ Spore! ]

[T. Corpse]

TALONSTRIKE

Talonstrike was a little embarrassed at how poorly he felt he'd been mentoring Yarrowpaw as of late--he'd let his grief and self-pitying get in the way of the young cat's training and that was, frankly, unacceptable. It was really time he worked to get the young cat's education back on track--for the past two moons he hadn't done much but teach the apprentice how to care for the elders (which he'd actually been a bit tough on, since his own mother--who he loved very dearly--was living in the Elders' Den, and StarClan help him, if she was neglected...) and hunt for the Clan. It was time that the cat learn some fighting moves--he'd been putting it off for quite a while and he figured that on such a beautiful Newleaf day was a good opportunity for training.

He'd asked one of the other warriors to tell Yarrowpaw to meet him at sunhigh, but hadn't told him where. Instead he'd left a scent trail for the cat to follow. At first the trail was easy to follow--he'd rubbed up against trees and made sure that his trail was rather straight. But his steps started to wind and snake through the forest, and he became more and more careful to leave as little trace of his scent as he could on the surrounding area.

Once he'd reached the Grassy Clearing, he crouched down so that the grass--just beginning to get taller--hid him, and he waited. He was seeing how long it took Yarrowpaw to find him, and then, well. They'd have themselves their first sparring match.

[ short post is short :c sorry, I couldn't think of much to say! ]

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

y a r r o w p a w !

Warm light from the newleaf sun filtered down through the sheltering green canopy formed by the trees above, dappling in uneven patterns over the forest floor, and on one particular, pale-furred cat who was roaming through the foliage. Thin and serpentine for a tom of his age, he wove delicately through fern thickets and underneath the low-hanging branches of trees. Pausing in the shadow of a large oak, the young cat lifted his head to glance carefully at the shining ball that hovered like a ticking clock at the edge of his vision. It was almost sunhigh, but he had not yet found his mentor.

The warrior who had instructed him to find his mentor had been decidedly unhelpful about Talonstrike's location, and the older warrior's scent trail was becoming more difficult to follow. Yarrowpaw could only hope that he wouldn't lose the trail altogether; his mentor may not have been particularly diligent in his training for the past two moons, but he didn't want to disappoint him on one of the rare occasions on which they had a session.

His resolve firmed, the ginger cat pushed on through the hilly woods, filtering through prey and plant scents in order to follow the only one which would achieve him his goal. There was no way he was going to be late – he was already in enough trouble from that mud puddle incident. Now that he scented for it again, Talonstrike's scent was present in a faint path that led deeper into the woods. Curious as to where the older tom might be leading him and determined to find out, Yarrowpaw pushed on, jaws parted for any whiff of scent. He was getting closer.

Finally he came upon a grassy clearing, one he remembered vaguely from traversing the forest during hunting trips, but had never before trained in. His mentor's scent was strong here, but Yarrowpaw could not see him. Looking around in obvious puzzlement, the young apprentice scented the air again and took a few steps towards a clump of grass towards the edge of the clearing, pushing his way through stalks that were already almost as tall as he was. He was almost upon it before he suddenly stopped, blinking with surprise as he finally saw the warrior crouching in front of him.

"Talonstrike," he mewed, slight bewilderment finding its way into his tone. Presently, however, the surprise left his expression and he nodded courteously to his mentor, pleased to have found him at last. "I have found you. What is it you wanted me for?"

[T. Corpse]

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[atrb=background,http://i295.photobucket.com/albums/mm141/Spottedbelly/Talonstrikemain-2.png] He didn't have to wait long before his apprentice found him. That was good--he wasn't sure if the tom had been sitting in on other training sessions or not, but either way Talonstrike was sure that Yarrowpaw would turn out to be a fine tracker. He'd really only done one thing wrong: he hadn't taken care to be silent as he crept through the grassy stalks. he knew that the other cat was here before he saw or smelled him--that was a mistake. He made a note to point that out later and work on sneaking about. He would need to be quiet, if he were actually tracking something, whether it be another warrior or a piece of prey. Being undetected was best. For now, though, he'd focus on the good. "Good job, Yarrowpaw." He purred, giving the younger cat a warm look. He stayed low to the ground, though, and he was carefully studying his apprentice's stance and trying to get an idea for how he was feeling right now. He'd addressed Talonstrike in a stiff, formal manner, and that made the tom wonder if it was out of respect or because he just wasn't comfortable around his mentor. If it was the latter, he really had to step up the training sessions--he didn't want the young tom not to feel at ease with his fellow warriors. He had to trust his Clanmates to be there when he needed them. His voice was as warm as he could make it."You had good timing." He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but instead he yowled and leaped at his apprentice, paws outstretched (but claws sheathed). He aimed to push his apprentice back and knock him to the ground--that and he just wanted to see how he'd react. He figured the best way to kick off their battle training would be to see how much Yarrowpaw knew already.

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[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

y a r r o w p a w !

For all his cool equilibrium, Yarrowpaw could not help but feel pleased at his mentor's praise for finding him. He wanted to do well in his training, like any apprentice, and a good word from his mentor meant much despite the indifference which he may have outwardly received it. "Thank you, Talonstrike," he mewed offhandedly. "I did try." But enough of that--the cream-furred tom looked intently at his mentor when the cat began to speak again, voice still warm with congenial praise. Yarrowpaw was expecting some manner of assignment that he was to be given, as was usually the case when he and Talonstrike exchanged words.

So he was completely unprepared when the older tom lunged forwards in an explosion of sudden motion and noise.

Yarrowpaw let out a squeak of shock as he was suddenly and completely bowled off his paws. His thin body toppled easily, so rather than attempt to right himself the tom kept going with his momentum, thumping into the green-cushioned earth and rolling away from Talonstrike before scrambling to his paws a couple tail-lengths away.

It wasn't until he found his feet that the apprentice's startled consciousness caught up with him and he found the presence of mind to realize that Talonstrike's claws had been sheathed during the "attack." He hadn't really been expecting his mentor to suddenly ambush him, but then, when did one expect an ambush? His tail had fluffed up a bit during the course of his tumble, and his pelt had picked up a few blades of dried grass, but there was a lively gleam in his green eyes was at odds with the apathetic overtones that had coloured his demeanour previously. "My, wasn't expecting that," he said teasingly. "Did I have a bee on me?"

[T. Corpse]

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[atrb=background,http://i295.photobucket.com/albums/mm141/Spottedbelly/Talonstrikemain-2.png] Well, if Yarrowpaw had been taking lessons with other mentors he certainly hadn't been learning how to fight. He should have expected that attack--Talonstrike hadn't been too subtle, what with the crouching in the grass and staying that way--and even then he should have had a better response, anyway. But that was all right--Talonstrike didn't think the young cat did everything wrong. It was better to go along with the attack and roll back than to fight back, and that was good. He would have wasted energy trying to fight something he couldn't really defend against. He would use that as a building block. After tumbling Yarrowpaw back, he straightened himself and looked briefly amused as the apprentice took this time to make a joke. He was tempted to chastise the cat for lightening the mood--in battle there would be no humor--but this was just his first training session. Besides, he should be glad that the young cat didn't resent him for not being the best mentor. "Perhaps," Talonstrike rumbled, "And he's being a bit stubborn." Then he darted forward, snarled, and went to strike Yarrowpaw in the face with one of his large forepaws--even though his claws were still sheathed, he made sure there was enough force in the blow to say "this isn't a game." He would be willing to participate in Yarrowpaw's jokes so long as he still took the session seriously.

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