Lily on the Bark

[Carotius]

Dyzzie [Lilypaw]
OOC: I've been so busy with work and stuff ;w;

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Barkpaw shook out his pelt once he stepped out from the camp entrance, stretching out his limbs as far as he could, tail arched high over his back. The brown tom was more than happy to have the warmer weather once more, relishing the sight of lush greenery as opposed to the white frosts of leaf-bare. Granted, newleaf had quickly come and gone, giving way to greenleaf, but it was still a better option than to freeze his fur off with barely enough food to feed himself and the Clan. He tried not to think about leaf-fall which was coming in the next few moons.

Raising his nose to the air, the large apprentice tried to catch a scent trail amongst the breeze - whether of prey or the suspicious warrior he'd seen attacking a defenceless kit back in leaf-bare, he didn't really care - trying to find an idea of what to do. Barkpaw hadn't been having much training sessions with his mentor, and some part of him already felt like his warrior ceremony would be as delayed as his apprentice ceremony. I'll have to work harder, then. He snorted, then chose a random direction to walk towards.

[Dyzzie]

Carotius sorry this took so long *shamed slightly*

Lilypaw moved slowly through the trees, her eyes scanning one way than the next as she moved with a determined pace. Her long limbs ate at the ground, her steps smooth, with the grace of a feline who wasn't afraid to show her worth . . . Although her worth tended to be her worst. Lilypaw was beginning to notice that the manner in which she was raised to behave . . . wasn't winning her favors. If anything, it seemed it was doing better to destroy her than to build her up. All of that coldness that she'd been raised to maintain. All of that dismissive tones, cold gazes, harsh words. The manipulative female was starting to see where it wasn't adding up to her favor. And it bothered her. As a manipulator, she had to be able to manipulate the ones she wanted to control, but how could you have manipulatees if no one wanted to be near you.

That was definitely true in a since - that Lilypaw wasn't gaining any followers at all . . . although as she got older, saw the other apprentices hanging out, laughing having fun . . . her desire for a friend currently outweighed a follower. Just someone she could talk to, laugh with, gush about which young tom was the most handsome, or who preformed the worst during training that day. Anything . . . was better than nothing. And her life was becoming a lot of nothings. Her green gaze turned downward, a soft snort leaving her muzzle, before she shook the thoughts from her mind. She might be feeling a tad lonely - but that didn't give her an excuse to go weak. The cream and tan colored female moved forward, her steps more decisive, her head held high, her tail coiled just slightly, as if to show off the darker tan rosettes against the cream of her body, her tabby marked tail swishing faintly.

The spotted tabby moved forward with almost a sharp strut to her steps before pausing at a scent. Cat. Male. Tom. Clan. but . . . unfamiliar. Young, like an apprentice . . . so of course it was unfamiliar. Who wanted to associate with her, Lilypaw, the Ice-Cat. She bit back a growl before following the scent slowly, curious as to who was out. It didn't take long to find the tom, and she paused as she attempted to put a name to the face . . . and fell short. How pathetic was it that she couldn't recognize her own clan mates. but then again, how many of them know her name, and not some horrid nickname based on her cold and cruel mannerisms . . . Perhaps she did need to remake herself. It didn't hurt to try to be friendly right.

She stepped out, head held high, green eyes watching him, "What are you doing?" Her tone was slightly sharp, her tail coiled, almost curled loosely over her back and her gaze bordering on dismissive . . . . No one said being friendly was easy . . . And she was falling short, very easily. She'd practice in front of the river reflection later. No point in floundering and looking pathetic. She'd own up to her actions . . . It was one of the few decent things she was taught by her father, "I'm not sure I remember your name. Who are you?" It was more of a demand for information than a question . . . Perhaps asking instead of demanding was another thing to practice with her reflection. but for right now she fell silent before she could say anything else unintentionally - her attention instead on this male, waiting to see what he'd say . . . or do.

[Carotius]

The brown tom swivelled his ears back at the new voice that followed the moving of fronds, his muzzle parted slightly to taste the scent of the breeze. Just because he was near camp didn't mean he could rule out intruders that quickly, as what a warrior once taught him during one of Pinethroat's absences. Oak and bramble lay on the air he tasted, with no trace of any foreign contaminants - it was a Clanmate for sure, so no worries needed. 

Barkpaw turned around to reveal himself to the owner of the voice, blinking once in mild surprise. A she-cat about his size and age. Well, he was quiet big now, considering the delays in his training journey, but never mind that. She was a small brown tabby, much like he without the tabby pattern, and also a paler shade of brown as the coat colour, all the while patterned with many varying shades of them. Like you rolled in many layers of mud and dried them off before rolling in it again. Barkpaw dared not say the observation out loud, though he felt the nagging temptation to after the she-cat's tone at addressing him. The other apprentice looked disinterested, but that wouldn't make sense with why she'd ask about his activity and his name.

Tail tip twitching, the large apprentice replied in an even voice, "My name is Barkpaw. You might know me as the cat who got apprenticed late thanks to sickness; whether or not you know that, I don't really care anymore," he swung his gaze back towards the oak forest, ears alert for the sound of prey, as if he heard the softest twittering of finches in the deep gloom. "As for what I'm doing... Probably something you're supposed to do too."

[Dyzzie]

The young apprentice had her eyes trained on the young male, her head held high, her expression calm - disinterested. An expression she'd been taught to carry long ago. An expression she often found difficult to get rid of. Even now, hoping to potentially make at least an acquaintance out of this tom . . . and she had the sinking feeling she wasn't doing well. She waited, watching as his tail twitched, his response one spoken evenly. Barkpaw. Apprenticed late from sickness, but he didn't really care. However, Lilypaw was more curious, and for a moment - as his gaze left her, a twinge of life entered her otherwise cold and blank gaze, "You were apprenticed late from sickness . . . ?" There was a moment's hesitation, as she tilted her head, "Though, I assume by the fact you're apprenticed now means you're better." She added nonchalant, her gaze moving away from him, ears flicking, feeling even more at ease the longer she attempted to talk to some one. Her father really had raised her to be incapable of talking to others, hadn't he.

Even when she tried to be friendly, she was having issues separating herself from the disinterested facade, the cold eyes. The airy tone. This was a lot harder than she thought. At his next words, her ears flicked back a tad, "I'm supposed to do too?" She wasn't sure if she should take it as an attack. Her father raised her to believe everything was an attack, sure, but maybe it was meant as a mere observation - that they were off the same rank - apprentices. She slashed her tail through the air, to force the agitation (more so at herself and her inability to properly read the situation, than agitation towards him). Finally she turned her head away from him, her gaze watching the trees, bushes, "So you're either hunting or patrolling." She responded, her words meant to be a question but ended up a sentence of observation.

The longer she stood there though, the more she was beginning to feel awkward and out of place. Maybe she should stick to being alone . . . it seemed less troublesome and confusing to her then. She glanced back at the tom momentarily before adding, "Shouldn't you be doing either of those with your mentor . . . they're suppose to guide us, aren't they?" There was a bitterness in her tone, at that remark, thinking of the mentor who didn't really spend much time teach her. Whether it was because of her attitude, or not, she didn't know. but either way she was learning more by spying on another's training session then going to her own. And she wondered if this tom had the same problems . . . or if he was just putting in extra practice.

[Carotius]

"Well, yes, you're supposed to go hunting or patrolling," Barkpaw answered, concealing the note of confusion at the she-cat's response to his earlier reply. "I'd rather hunt this time.. Can't go on a patrol without a warrior."

He let out a sharp exhalation of air, fluttering his tongue in a small sign of frustration. Truth be told, he cared less about having to miss out on border patrols due to no warriors accompanying him. His mentor Pinethroat had been absent for training more often than not, and it frustrated the large apprentice to no end because he got really tired of having his life events delayed almost every time. First late apprenticeship, and now possibly late warrior ceremony! Give me a break! His claws curled inwards and dug into the earth, though his expression remained unchanged.

Barkpaw shrugged at the she-cat's question about mentors. "Well, seems like mine's too busy gallivanting somewhere to care about my progress anymore. I'm off on my own devices, if you could put it that way," his tail involuntarily lashed from the deep-rooted irritation he kept for the past few moons; hopefully this other apprentice wouldn't take it as some sort of offense towards her in any manner or form. Then again, with how stiff and high-headed she'd been looking since they stumbled upon each other, there was the miniscule chance it might have. "Anyway...let's get going. I know a good place for squirrels."

The tom pushed forward into the thick undergrowth without another word.

[Dyzzie]

The female flicked her tail calmly, twitching her nose, "I know that." She mumbled, her gaze glancing away at his comment before glancing up when he spoke of hunting, not being able to patrol without a warrior. It was true . . even as an apprentice there seemed like there was a lot she couldn't just 'go do.' She flicked her ears. It was hard enough getting her mentor to show up as it was . . . She glanced when he spoke suddenly about his mentor never being around, and a dark, bitter smile crossed her muzzle, "Your mentor and my mentor must be on the same wave length." She muttered softly. "Why give apprentices to mentors that do nothing for them?" She added, her ears dropping slightly. She could relate entirely to having an no mentor around, being left alone. The tabby looked up suddenly when he stated the should get going - knowing a good place for squirrels, and for a moment she thought it was a dismissal, before realizing the plural text to his words. He was . . . inviting her along. It didn't take her long to quickly put her paws into motion, her lithe body moving through brush to catch up with him as quickly as she could, her tail held low and ears perked, "Lead the way." She responded simply, as if she tagged along with others plenty of times . . . and like this wasn't the first time she'd ever been invited along . . . to . . . well, anywhere.

[Carotius]

OOC: Sorry it's so short ;w;

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The tom shrugged his shoulders when he heard his Clanmate complain about assigning mentors to apprentices. After all, they couldn't question Bramblestar's choices of mentors in the ceremonies. It was part of the warrior code, that the leader's word was law. They could challenge it if they dared, at the risk of demotion, extra duties, or, in the worst case scenario, exile; whoever had the gall to make such a challenge must be a bonehead too.

"You didn't tell me your name. Well, unless, of course, I don't have the honour to," he commented dryly, keeping a speedy pace through the bushes, his ears pinned against his head while his nose twitched in anticipation of fresh scents. Sure, he was larger than an average apprentice, but that was because of the delays in his life, and it sure as heck didn't mean the shrubs didn't irritated his ears and face less. "Sure hope there's a squirrel at the end of this annoying patch."

[Dyzzie]

The young apprentice nearly faltered in her steps when he remarked that he hadn't been given her name, and she was startled to realize she hadn't given it to him, a total slip on her part, and heat flooded her face - hidden by the fur of her pelt, "Sorry." The apology was brief, a passing murmur, before she added more strongly, "Lilypaw. My name is Lilypaw." She didn't glance his way, covering up the falter of her steps with a bit quicker of a pace, but degrading herself internally. She really had no decent practice at this 'talking' with others thing if she could fumble something as simple as introductions. They give their name, you give yours.

Lilypaw flicked an ear, pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, adding it to the growing list of conversational lines to practice infront of a reflective source of water. She instead allowed herself to focus on the larger tom. The tabby was no small cat, but the tom was still a bit bigger than she was, and his speedy pace and long limbs seemed to do a good job of keeping her on her toes. She still had a bit of growing to go to fill in her own leg-to-body ratio better, but she was managing to mostly keep up with him. (She wondered how much of the size difference was based on age. He'd said he was delayed, but not by how long). She flicked her ears at his words, letting her muzzle part to draw in a breath, scenting the air with the roof of her mouth as she nodded in agreement, flicking her tail when the strands caught in a some of the brush a bit, wincing at the sting but moving on, "If there's not, there hopefully will be something worth while." She added, picking up her pace to close a bit more of the distance between them until she was level with his side, rather than trailing behind, still giving him enough lead to follow. "How did you find this place, through all this brush?" She finally asked, glancing towards him, her expression curious.

[Carotius]

OOC: GAH.

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He flicked an ear in acknowledgement of the she-cat's introduction, half his attention focused on a faint scent he caught on the breeze. Indeed, a squirrel had passed through here a while ago, but maybe if they kept up this pace for a bit longer, they could be free of the undergrowth and track the prey down to the roots of a tree. If they didn't catch the squirrel in time, they might stand a slim chance of finding another prey loitering around the area too. That's what he observed in some of the failed hunting he did in since his apprenticeship, at least.

Barkpaw glanced back towards his acquaintance as he ducked beneath a particularly thick swathe of thorns. "Boredom made me explore the territory on my own more often than not. That, and a little bit of hardheadedness both figuratively and literally," he replied, sighting the gap in the tendrils he often slipped through when going through the patch on both directions. Good thing too, because his brown pelt was beginning to prickle and itch from all the thorns that tugged at him. "On the other side, there's a bunch of holly bushes surrounding an old oak, and I notice a lot of prey hanging out there in the warmer seasons." Triumph made his tail waggle around almost uncontrollably as he put a paw to the gap, pulling aside the thorns to widen it enough to allow a cat to pass through. "She-cats first."

[Dyzzie]

Introductions were a moment of swiftness, but the acknowledgement was still there, the subtle notice of the other's name as they continued to move through the undergrowth - the female was more than grateful for her short fur at the time, especially with the way branches and leaves, thorns and twigs grabbed at them. She moved with a growing ease, following his lead as to where to step, where to go. "Usually when I'm bored, I'll wander about - but I don't usually go for thickets," She responded, her tone calm, but her thoughts amused. She glanced his way when he spoke of hardheadedness, and a smile fluttered across her features momentarily, "Nothing wrong with a bit of hardheadedness." She mused, her voice a bit more calm, a bit more friendly as she continued to interact, speak, learn to be friendly.

She glanced at him when he spoke of holly surrounding an old oak - of prey hanging out in warmer seasons, before raising an eyebrow when he swept the thorns aside with a paw, stating she-cats first. She grinned briefly, flicking her tail tip against his shoulder, "So polite." She mused, making her way past him and looking around, sniffing the air as she glanced towards the holly, the old oak. Prey was definitely in the air. She stayed just outside the thorns though, waiting for him to join her before speaking softly, "So, shall we hunt?" She asked, eyes locking on a rabbit that had just scurried into sight.

[Carotius]

Dyzzie
OOC: I'M ALIVE.

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Once Lilypaw squeezed through the widened gap, the scent of squirrel and rabbit struck his nose, prompting his head to swivel rapidly, green eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of movement. Right there. A fairly plump rabbit had hopped into view, nibbling on something it found on the ground; the other apprentice must have noticed it too, for she stood stock still, her eyes riveted on the cottontail creature. Barkpaw's ear twitched as something small rustled through the holly on the opposite side of the rabbit. Moving only his eyes, the young tom managed to glimpse a blur of grey fur settling beneath the shade, an acorn held almost possessively in its tiny paws.

"We've got ourselves a rabbit and a squirrel. Let's see if we can't catch both," he whispered in earnest, already slinking into the shadows of the bushes once more in stealthy pursuit of the grey-furred acorn-eater. The brown apprentice was mindful to keep his tail off the ground, but below the low-hanging twigs and branches zigzagging within the bush; he knew his tail once had a tendency to brush against the leaves and stir up enough noise to scare prey away. No more. Laying one paw after another, careful not to let his claws unsheathe in excitement, he stalked closer and closer to the squirrel, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Barkpaw remembered a lesson from Pinethroat (or whichever other warrior had offered to train him), to block off a prey's possible escape routes, especially when there was more than one cat in the hunting party; right now, there were only two, and the preys' path to freedom was through to the old oak, which the young tom now had his back against. Once in a relatively safe position, he settled himself into a preparation crouch, but without tensing his muscles. His eyes flicked up from his target towards where his hunting companion was.

Ready when you are.