| | | fishbones [Brightpaw]

[fennelwhisker]

Fennelwhisker wasn’t the type of cat who sat around and wasted time – as little Brightpaw must have noticed by now. Not that she pushed her apprentice too hard or anything like that; but she had been given the chance to prove herself as a mentor yet again, and she was going to do just that. To the sleek golden she-cat, an apprentice was almost a status symbol of sorts – and while she had already proven herself as a skilled mentor with Acornnose’s apprenticeship, she couldn’t say she wasn’t excited when Brightpaw was assigned to her.

That had been two moons ago, and already the pair of she-cats was hard at their training. True, they had quite a few seasons ahead of them until Brightpaw would be of age to receive her warrior name – but there was no harm in getting ahead of the game, was there? So they had covered the basics almost immediately (although never as fast as was ideal, but Fennelwhisker wasn’t going to rush her apprentice). Unfortunately, they had yet to get to Fennelwhisker’s favorite pastime – until today.

Suffice to say, the warrior was eager to get this training session underway. So as dawn peaked down into the great hollow that made up WildClan’s camp, she poked her nose into the apprentice den. A few blinks later to adjust to the dim light within, and Fennelwhisker was nudging Brightpaw with a paw to the shoulder. “Rise and shine, Brightpaw. Today, we’re going fishing.” Fennelwhisker nearly purred the word, but managed to keep her tone reasonable – albeit a bit overly-cheery for this early in the morning. Satisfied that Brightpaw was following, Fennelwhisker retreated back out into the camp, and immediately started padding off in the direction of the river. She flicked her long tail to summon her apprentice up close by her side, and mewed lightly, “You can eat once you catch something; we’ll bring the rest back to the camp later today.”

[brightpaw]

A mouse sat, unsuspecting, a few paces away. It nibbled at a seed or something in its tiny paws, happily enjoying a patch of sunlight. The black-and-white she-cat lowered herself to the ground, paused her breathing… and just as she was starting to push her hind-legs into the ground, a strange poking sensation roused her from her deep slumber.

Brightpaw drowsily blinked awake, finding the source of her sudden state of consciousness. She found herself staring into Fennelwhisker’s familiar yellow eyes. The older cat mentioned something about fishing before slipping back out of the apprentices’ den. Brightpaw got up dutifully, taking a second to shake some stray debris off her pelt, and followed her beautiful mentor out into the camp.

The young apprentice was excited to get started with today’s lesson. She adored the taste of fish, and was looking forward to learning the art of catching one with her bare paws. At Fennelwhisker’s beckoning, she bounded a couple steps to catch up. “You can eat once you catch something; we’ll bring the rest back to the camp later today,” her mentor explained.

Brightpaw nodded, trying to mask some of her excitement. “Okay,” she meowed in response. “I can’t wait to get started!” She could hear the low rumble of the falls nearby already, making every pawstep feel like it lasted seasons. Today was going to be a very good day.

[fennelwhisker]

It was always nice to have an eager apprentice – and Fennelwhisker was glad that Brightpaw all but bounced along beside her as they left the WildClan camp. She had heard things from other warriors about lazy apprentices (and lazy warriors too, although she couldn’t fathom how the clan let them stay that way), and she knew that if she ever had an apprentice like that, they would not stay that way long. Thankfully, that was one little snag she didn’t have to worry about – and that gave her more time to work on what really mattered: hunting and fighting and training all the general knowledge a clan cat should have. It pleased her that Brightpaw learned fairly quickly – and it would be a lie to say she didn’t brag about her apprentice around the warriors den.

And now she was planning to teach her little pride and joy her favorite hunting technique of them all. She wasn’t sure if Brightpaw would excel at fishing as Fennelwhisker herself had – she didn’t have the same RiverClan blood that simply helped with that sort of thing – but the she-cat had promise, as she always did. And with a mentor like Fennelwhisker, she couldn’t completely fail. StarClan forbid Fennelwhisker trains a bad fisher.

They finally reached the riverside (after passing within a safe distance of the falls that filled the air with such a wonderful little rumble), and Fennelwhisker scanned the water for a school of fish. They didn’t frequent the river in large groups, of course, but two or three fish were never far from one another. The flash of silver scales in the sunlight caught her careful yellow eyes, and the she-cat went still. Her voice was quiet when she spoke to her apprentice – despite the obvious fact that the fish couldn’t hear her. “You want to be careful that your shadow doesn’t fall over the water – the fish will notice the change from the sunlight. You have to be still and slow, and aim below where you see the fish. The water makes it look like they’re in a different spot than they are.” That was the most difficult concept to understand – but moons and more of practice had ingrained it in her own mind. She would do the same to her apprentice.

Fennelwhisker raised a careful paw – claws unsheathed and ready to strike out – and leaned out over the water. She waited a second, and then another, and then in a flash her paw had scooped up a bright silver fish and flung it onto the back. Then she bounded over to it and delivered a clean killing bite. She licked her lips as she glanced back over at her apprentice, satisfaction plain in her expression. “You have to make sure to throw them far enough from the water – and kill them fast enough – that they don’t manage to flop back into the water. But that’s the easy part.”

She moved her kill over beneath a small outcropping of stones beside the water – into a nice cool patch of shade that was well within sight of the two cats. Then, nodding back toward the river, Fennelwhisker commanded, “Now it’s your turn. Let’s see what you can do.”

[brightpaw]

As the pair finally reached the place Fennelwhisker had deemed worthy of teaching from, Brightpaw began to grow a little nervous. What if she couldn’t fish? What if she disappointed her mentor with horrible fishing skills? Brightpaw blinked. She was overreacting and they hadn’t even gotten started yet. She took a silent deep breath and watched as Fennelwhisker carefully positioned herself by the edge of the river. “You want to be careful that your shadow doesn’t fall over the water – the fish will notice the change from the sunlight,” the older she-cat explained. Brightpaw nodded once and quickly checked that her own shadow didn’t fall upon the rushing water. “You have to be still and slow, and aim below where you see the fish. The water makes it look like they’re in a different spot than they are.”

Brightpaw looked down at the water and glanced at a fish swim gracefully past the pair. She watched it and tried to judge where it was. She had played with water before at a young age, but those puddles were never deep enough for her to experiment with how water works. Her attention was quickly recaptured by Fennelwhisker slowly raising a paw with her claws out. The warrior was completely still for a tense moment until, in one swift, practiced motion, she hooked a fish on her claws, pulled it out of the water, and threw it behind her. She quickly ran towards the flopping fish and killed it cleanly. “You have to make sure to throw them far enough from the water – and kill them fast enough – that they don’t managed to flop back into the water. But that’s the easy part.” She moved the dead fish over to a safe place and turned back to the apprentice and told her that it was now her turn.

The black-and-white she-cat let out a soft breath, steadying herself. She positioned herself the same way her mentor had, being mindful of where her shadow touched. She slowly raised a paw, unsheathed her claws, and sat as still as possible. Her blue eyes caught the glint of a fish coming her way, lazily flexing itself through the current. She zeroed in on it, figuring out how she would have to time it. Finally, the fish was before her, within her reach and… she struck.

She could tell from the second her paw lashed out that she had miscalculated. Instead of scooping up the fish from the bottom, she barely scraped the top of it with her claws. The frightened fish dashed away downstream, the chaos sending several more into panic along the river. She sat back, annoyed. “Fox-dung!” she swore under her breath. With a groan, she looked behind her at her pretty mentor. Of course Fennelwhisker didn't expect her to get this on her first try. Learning was a mistake-ridden process and fish were fast and flexible, right? “I’m sorry, Fennelwhisker. I don’t know what happened! You were right – the water did make it seem like it was in a different place. But I didn't think it would be that much!” she meowed, frustrated. “What did I do wrong?”

[fennelwhisker]

Fennelwhisker watched her eager apprentice carefully – expression as still and focused as it had been while she was waiting for the perfect time to strike. It was important to study Brightpaw closely; she couldn’t fix any of her apprentice’s mistakes if she didn’t spot them in the first place. And she was certain that Brightpaw would make some. This was her first time trying to fish, and that was not a skill many cats were born with. But she would be an excellent fisher… after a while – and with Fennelwhisker’s tutelage.

Her stance was good. The golden-pelted she-cat could appreciate that. She seemed a bit off balance, but that was nothing that a few hundred times of taking the pose wouldn’t help. At least she had the ability to mimic her mentor’s position – shadow off the water, body still, paw ready to strike. Fennelwhisker saw her pose waver a bit, and the mentor’s careful yellow eyes narrowed. Then Brightpaw struck – paw flashing into the water – and missed. The frustration was immediately obvious in the young she-cat, and Fennelwhisker brushed her apprentice’s shoulder with her long tail. However, instead of answering Brightpaw’s plaintive questions right off the bat, she started by complicating her.

“You had the starting stance just right – although you might want to work a bit on your balance or the wind might push you over.” A light purr of a laugh slipped out at that bit. “You simply misjudged where the fish was in the water, like you said,” Fennelwhisker continued with a shrug. “That part just takes practice – there is no right way to do it.”

She paused for a moment, her head tilting to one side as she debated just what steps to take next – what would help Brightpaw best. Then, nodding to herself, she pushed herself back up to her paws and took a few quick steps into the water – it deepened quickly from the bank, but she could stand safely where it was only three-quarters of the way up her legs. Fennelwhisker could easily (and comfortably) go out even further, but she didn’t need it very deep to prove her point here. At least she was comfortable with the water brushing past her legs – she knew plenty of her clanmates that would be stumbling back up on the bank and shaking the water off their paws at the first chance they got. In contrast, Fennelwhisker stood as if she was on dry ground.

She dipped her muzzle down to motion toward her legs – directing Brightpaw’s eyes. “It’s not very obvious in the shallow water, but can you see how it looks like my legs have gone crooked where they enter the water? That’s how much difference the water makes – and even then it can change depending on the time of day and how much light there is.” Fennelwhisker grinned. “It’s more than a little bit complicated, I can tell you that. But eventually judging the difference becomes as easy as measuring out the distance between you and a piece of forest prey – or telling one clanmate from another.”

[brightpaw]

The angry apprentice allowed herself to be soothed by Fennelwhisker's light touch. The golden she-cat’s words soon calmed her down to a dull frustration. Brightpaw appreciated her use of positive reinforcement, praising her stance and giving constructive criticism to work on her balance. That made her feel a little better, slightly thrilled with being able to achieve something. Getting down the stance was the first step to being successful in hunting. That much she had already figured out since she began her training with Fennelwhisker two moons ago. So she was thankful for that. Then, she went on to explain that Brightpaw had been right – she had thought the fish to be in a different place than she had thought.

Brightpaw was surprised with the golden mentor got up and bounded into the water with barely any warning at all. She appeared comfortable in the slow current, with her legs almost completely submerged. She ducked her head and Brightpaw's eyes followed in that direction. Just like she said, her legs did look slightly crooked, something Brightpaw had completely missed when watching her go out into the water in the first place. It was hard to comprehend, but she hoped that one day it would come as easy as Fennelwhisker was saying it would.

The black and white she-cat leaped onto a rock sticking up out of the water and looked down into the clear river. She slowly reached a paw towards the surface and watched as she submerged it. It didn't look any different than normal, but upon shifting her head to the side to see it from another angle, she saw that, indeed, it did look very slightly crooked. It was so slight that she wouldn't have noticed it if she wasn't looking for it, but with Fennelwhisker's guidance, she could just make out the distortion that much water could make. She spotted a shiny pebble on the riverbed below her rock and reached her paw further into the water to reach it. It was a couple heartbeats after she expected to touch it that she actually felt it beneath her pad, and she scooped it up and took it back to the bank. “That’s crazy,” she meowed aloud. “But I think I understand now.” She bounded upstream, close enough to Fennelwhisker that she could see the apprentice’s movements but far enough away to not disturb any oncoming fish.

She assumed the position same as last time, but planted her paws better and widened her stance slightly. She felt the difference in balance this time and felt much more secure against falling in. There was almost a kind of certainty in her this time and, despite it being only her second attempt, the motions didn't feel so foreign and weird in her young frame. Practice makes perfect, she thought confidently to herself. Soon, another school of fish approached her and, once one was in reach, her paw flashed out. The calculation was a little better now with her recent teachings in water distortion. Her paw slipped over the slimy surface, but the fish was startled too early and all she managed to do was drag her claws against its side as it and its panicked friends swam away. She looked up at Fennelwhisker with wide eyes. “I touched it that time!” she exclaimed. Sure, she didn't catch it, but at least she was making progress and that was enough for her. “I was so close!”